Mojo Movie Review of the Week: “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

 

I’m hosting a bunco game next month. My theme is “Breakfast at Tiffany’s/Autumn in New York”. I picked the dual theme because they are both wonderful movies, set in a wonderful place, at a wonderful time of year.

I’ve been planning the party for several months. So you can imagine my delight to find that today, September 20, is the 50th anniversary of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. It’s a no-brainer then that it’s my movie of choice for my weekly review.

SPOILER ALERT: MOVIE DETAILS REVIEWED. Read at your own discretion.

Based on Truman Capote’s 1958 novella of the same name, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” is a definite favorite. Set in New York City in October and starring Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard, its timeless story of finding yourself through love, laughter, tears and trials, has become a classic film enjoyed by each generation since its premiere in 1961.

Right off the bat, it piques the attention. On the corner of 5th Avenue and 57th Street in NYC is the historic façade of Tiffany & Co., where a lone cab deposits Holly Golightly, dressed to the nines and all alone. The rest of the City is sleeping. While window shopping she enjoys her coffee and pastry. Henry Mancini’s melancholy instrumental “Moon River” adds a twinge of lonely hope, and we already feel our tears being formed.

The characters in this story are brilliantly complex. In their first meeting, our pair discover they have a mutual bond of being young, single, and in want of a better life. They form an instant roller-coaster friendship, borne of convenience as much as foundation.

George Peppard’s portrayal of the book’s narrator, Paul Varjak, is Holly’s newest neighbor, a struggling writer… and a kept man. Throughout the movie, he waivers from feeling inadequate and emasculated to finding the strength to take care of, and eventually walk away from, Holly. He enjoys her company and her support while he has it, and never gives up believing she’s only hiding her true self from the world.

Holly is a young woman who makes ends meet by accepting dates from men who give her $50 for the powder room, and by giving the weather report to incarcerated mob boss, Sally Tomato, at Sing-Sing. She sets down no roots. Her cat has no name. She’s been in her apartment for over a year and still hasn’t unpacked. She’s a girl in search of something, and she has no idea what. She tells Paul that when she’s feeling scared and sad, “the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there.”

Shortly after their first meeting, an inebriated date tries to pursue Holly. She eludes him by way of the fire escape into Paul’s apartment. This scene is beautifully written and beautifully played. Holly and Paul do not get intimate; rather, they look for comfort and understanding from each other. They get their little digs in, as Holly points out for a writer, he hasn’t done much “lately”. She tries to push his buttons and finally succeeds. Threatened with being returned to her drunken, violent date below, Holly apologizes and nicknames him “Fred”, after her brother.  He listens intently as she tells him about Fred. Suddenly tired, she climbs into bed. Paul, enticed, sits awake, holding her and trying to figure her out. Once asleep, her brave façade dissolves into nightmares. Paul’s tender concern for her alarms her more than the drunk, and she quickly returns to her apartment. She refuses to give up anything of herself and Paul is left alone, puzzled.

A self-proclaimed free spirit, Holly smokes and drinks too much. Another of my favorite scenes follows one such binge. After a few rounds, she announces to Paul she’s going to set her sights on Rusty Drawler, the 9th richest man in America. Holly senses Paul’s disapproval as he states the obvious, “Holly, you’re drunk.” She ignores him, explaining that to take care of homeward bound Fred, she must marry into money. Noting her empty bottle, she asks Paul to get whiskey from his apartment but he refuses. She staggers to her wallet and hands him money for it, stating he should be used to taking money from women. What started out as two friends enjoying each other’s company has turned into one’s drunken attack against the other. Both characters have trusted each other when they didn’t think trust was possible. Paul is already in love with Holly, but she refuses to accept it. It’s safer for her to insult and alienate him. This is no casual scene, as the actors give a remarkably exuberant performance, full of nuance and indirect communication through body language and tone.

The movie sees them both through failures and successes. Holly unwittingly gives Paul the confidence to start writing again and cast aside his lover in hopes of something more substantial. Holly keeps him as a trusted friend. With Paul to always catch her, she’s free to continue with her failed relationships. He is safe for her; for he, too, is a failure of sorts. But Paul’s love for Holly grows, and soon he’s frustrated with being cast aside. He spends a good portion of the movie pretending to be in love with the woman he has, while longing for love from the woman he doesn’t.

The rest of the movie finds them in several more conflicts with the world, and each other. It’s a superbly told story of two lost souls fighting and surviving the best they can, and finally realizing they are better than what’s expected of them. Love, and life, are never easy. Sometimes you have to walk away from what you think you want in order to find what you truly need. Sometimes to you have to strive for it. Sometimes it’s been there all along, hiding under your façade.

Mojo Movie Review of the Week: “Mary Poppins”

SPOILER ALERT: MOVIE DETAILS REVIEWED. Read at your own discretion.

There’s more than a handful of you wondering why I would review a two and a half-hour movie that’s nearly 50 years old, and seen by so many through the generations. The answer is simple: It’s worth it.

Based on a series of eight books written by P.L. Travers, Mary Poppins is one of those iconic Disney classics that was groundbreaking in its day, and still delights generations from very young to very old. Hollywood would be hard-pressed to find another duo as dynamic as Julie Andrews and Dick van Dyke as the magical nanny and her chimney sweep pal.

People aren’t looking for babysitters any more. They’re looking for Mary Poppins: that “practically perfect in every way” person to help not only with childcare, but with all the things that go with it: raising children with values, morals, and responsibility. The kind of caretaker that makes lesson-learning fun enough to, well, sing about it.

A mixture of all things Disney: cute kids, animated animals, singers and dancers and overall colorful sets, Mary Poppins is a must-have for any family.

The movies flies us in over turn-of-the-century London,where we first find Mary sitting on a cloud, peering down toward her friend Bert, a street performer/sidewalk artist/chimney sweep.

Mary and Bert take it upon themselves to care for Jane and Michael, the young children of George and Winifred Banks, two parents who are at first so self-absorbed that they don’t even realize the old nanny has left.

Enter Mary and her magic carpet bag. The magical Nanny manages to unsettle Mr. Banks while encouraging the children’s creativity, all the while subtly exemplifying responsibility and dependability.

The first notable song in the movie, “A Spoonful of Sugar (Helps the Medicine Go Down)” is sung by the trio as they make beds, stack toys, and organize books. I can remember playing this song on my LP album as a child. It’s cheerful rhythm really did help with the housework… at least for a few repetitions.

One of my favorite parts of the movie occurs as the quartet leap into Bert’s sidewalk scene: a countryside with a flowing river, dirt roads, and a fair “behind the hill”. As the Jane and Michael scurry off to the Merry-Go-Round, Bert and Mary find themselves at an outdoor cafe, being waited on by four penguins. The combination of chalk background, animated characters, and live action humans, makes for a nearly sensory-overload experience. Throw in the dancing and stunts and it’s a fantastical feast for eyes and ears that always leaves me smiling.

This is also where we are introduced to that wonderful word, supercalifragilisticexpialodocious. The word has become an iconic part of pop culture. For all things bigger than great and grand, it’s the word to use when there is no other word.

As a gentle rain comes to London and washes away Bert’s drawings, our group finds themselves on the darkened sidewalks before making their way home for the night. The children beg Mary to never to leave, if they promise to always be good. She tells them, “That’s a pie crust promise. Easily made, easily broken.” I love how Mary talks to the children. She expects them to understand, and doesn’t cut them much slack. Children are allowed to have fun, but they’re also expected to have brains.

On their way for the next day’s errands, Mary Poppins and the children meet Bert at Uncle Albert’s. Another story is told through the song, “I Love to Laugh”. The infectious giggling and chortling acts as an anti-gravity element, bringing Mary, Bert, and the children up to the ceiling for tea with Uncle Albert. The only way down is to think sad thoughts, which proves to be more difficult than usual with Mary Poppins around. I remember often my brother and I trying to mimic the many ways a person can laugh. That created enough laughter in itself! Symbolic of the highs and lows of our human emotions, this scene playfully shows we can manage our reactions to the world around us.

Throughout the movie, Mary Poppins and Bert act as surrogate parents to Michael and Jane; all the while subtly influencing George and Winifred to becoming the parents they’re supposed to be: attentive, gentle, caring.

Through a series of mishaps and misunderstandings, the children cause a run on the bank and run in fear from their father. After several wrong turns they run, literally, into Bert, covered in soot. Michael and Jane cry their familial woes as Bert encourages them to understand their father and leads them home.

Mary and Bert introduce the children to the world of chimney sweeps. On a personal note, while I’ve always loved the songs in this scene, “Chim Chim Cher-ee” means more to me now than it ever did before. After a nice chat with my friend Lisa, who always cheers me up no matter what, I jokingly called her “Mary Poppins”. The next day, she linked this song and video to my facebook page. No matter how bad things seem, it’s not the circumstance but rather our attitude, that sees us through. Now who doesn’t love a message like that?

The final act of the movie finds the children better understanding their parents’ responsibilities, and the parents better understanding their children’s hopes and fears. When it seems that rug is pulled out from under him and George is left in shambles, he finds Michael’s tuppence in his pocket and utters the one word that always makes everything better: supercalifragilisticexpialodocious.

At home, the family, the staff, and a constable are pacing in worry when George strolls in singing “A Spoonful of Medicine”. The children are sad to leave Mary’s side, knowing her time with them is complete, but excited to see that their father has mended an old kite. He breaks into the last song of the movie, “Let’s Go Fly a Kite”, leading the family into song, and out to the park, where the bank director’s son tells him Mr. Dawes died laughing at Mr. Banks jokes, leaving an opening at the bank for a new partner… Mr. Banks has his job, and his family, back.

Her job now complete, Mary opens her umbrella and flies away from the empty house.

And that is the end of the movie. But not the lessons. Watch it for yourself. You can’t help but understand, life is what we make it… so we should always make it good.