Marty shmarty, it's all Borgnine

Marty (1955) Ernest Borgnine
Oscars for best actor, director, picture, and screenplay.

“Ah ma, I’m not sure I can deal with the heartache,” Marty says to his mother when she needles him about finding a wife. Marty is 33 years old and played by the homely (and I mean that in the nicest way) Ernest Borgnine.
“Marty” is a one man show and its Borgnine’s the entire way. If you’ve seen him “From Here to Eternity” where he plays a character fitting to his physical stature (a cruel oaf of an MP Officer who tortures Frank Sinatra) then seeing him bare his soul for ninety minutes is a shocking surprise and as unexpected to me as it probably was to the audience 50 years ago.
The difference between Marty’s looks (short, heavy set, looks like he could rip the head off a man in seconds) and his emotions is striking. Borgnine somehow makes Marty smaller with his shyness and reluctant bachelorhood. When he smiles, you see his thin coat of armor and how easily he is hurt.
Marty reluctantly goes on a date but only after an emotional outburst where he takes a stand against dating and the requisite pain that follows. He meets Clara, played with an awkward strength by Betsy Blair, and they spend the night talking and falling in love. The problem is that none of Marty’s friends and family likes Clara. They realize that inertia is a good thing and a married Marty would rock their boat too much so Marty must decide to call the girl or honor his friends and family and not date “the dog.”
The script show’s people’s selfishness will stop at nothing even if it means stopping others from reaching happiness while creating a character Borgnine was born to play, a sensitive, smart, Catholic boy looking for love in a world that doesn’t care about personal happiness.