Movie Review: How To Steal A Million (1966)

Genre: Romantic Crime Comedy  
Director: William Wyler  

Starring: Audrey Hepburn, Peter O'Toole, Eli Wallach  
Running Time: 123 minutes  

Synopsis: In Paris, Nicole Bonnet (Audrey Hepburn) is unable to convince her father Charles (Hugh Griffith), a master forger, that he should stop creating and marketing fake versions of classic art pieces. Charles lends a fake "Cellini" Venus statue for the centrepiece display at a museum exhibition, while Nicole and sophisticated art thief Simon Dermott (Peter O'Toole) start a romance after she catches him in the act. When Nicole learns the Venus may be inspected and exposed as a fake, she tries to convince Simon to steal it from the heavily-guarded museum.

What Works Well: This sophisticated and glossy heist romance and comedy is an effective vehicle for fashion icon Audrey Hepburn to model a succession of chic Paris-inspired outfits. She also brings a wide-eyed sparkle to the role of a daughter exasperated by her eccentric father's obsessive hobby, and mesmerized by a suave gentleman thief headquartered at the Ritz Hotel. The second half is focused on improvised heist mechanics featuring a tiny broom closet and the deft exploitation of the human condition to counter sophisticated technology. The script is occasionally witty but also leans on theatricality, while French actor Moustache contributes a few fine comic moments as a member of the museum guard team.

What Does Not Work As Well: The first hour is slow and ponderous, director William Wyler unnecessarily prolonging character introductions and dawdling on clutter, and Nicole's repeated use of "Papa" in her conversations with her father achieving fingernails-on-chalkboard levels of irritation. The romance ignites with nothing more than a kiss, the mild twist related to O'Toole's role is telegraphed well in advance, and Eli Wallach never finds traction as an under-scoped art collector.

Key Quote:

Charles Bonnet: Don't you know that in his lifetime Van Gogh only sold one painting? While I, in loving memory of his tragic genius, have already sold two.



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Movie Review: The Children's Hour (1961)

Genre: Drama  

Director: William Wyler  

Starring: Audrey Hepburn, Shirley MacLaine, James Garner, Fay Bainter, Miriam Hopkins  

Running Time: 107 minutes  

Synopsis: Best friends since age 17, teachers Karen Wright (Audrey Hepburn) and Martha Dobie (Shirley MacLaine) now run a private boarding school for girls. Martha has always harboured a secret crush on Karen, and resents her friend's impending marriage to Doctor Joe Cardin (James Garner). Martha's aunt Lily (Miriam Hopkins) and troublesome student Mary (Karen Balkin) both have reasons to gossip about the relationship between Karen and Martha, and Mary's grandmother Amelia (Fay Bainter) expertly spreads the harmful rumours. 

What Works Well: Lilian Hellman co-wrote the script based on her own play (inspired by actual events), and William Wyler directs with an unflinching commitment to the darkest corners of the human soul. Karen loves Joe and Martha loves Karen, but their good intentions are easily victimized by malevolence. Negativity invades the school sanctuary through the evil Mary (one of the screen's nastiest children); the selfish Aunt Lily (still delusional about a stage career); and the influential grandma Amelia (wielding community power like a judge and jury). The final act displays the fearsome destructive capacity of group think when combined with prejudice.

What Does Not Work As Well: The theatrical origins are clear, and translate to a limited number of sets, longish scenes, and unconstrained performances, with Audrey Hepburn alone in maintaining a measure of control.

Conclusion: Hatred thrives in empty chambers.



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Movie Review: Bloodline (1979)

A so-bad-it's-almost-good crime and business drama, Bloodline is a dressed-up pig choking on layers of glossy lipstick.

When her tycoon father dies while mountain climbing, Elizabeth Roffe (Audrey Hepburn) inherits a financially troubled pharmaceutical empire. Corporate lawyer Rhys Williams (Ben Gazzara) appears to be her trusted advisor, while the board of directors is stacked with greedy cousins including British aristocrat Sir Alec Nichols (James Mason), racing driver Hélène Martin (Romy Schneider), and two-timing lothario Ivo Palazzi (Omar Sharif).

The cousins and/or their spouses and lovers all have financial troubles and pressure Elizabeth to float the company to raise funds. She resists, determined to protect her father's family-ownership legacy. Inspector Max Hornung (Gert Fröbe) finds evidence Elizabeth's father was murdered, and her life is soon in danger. Meanwhile, prostitutes are being killed during the filming of snuff porn movies under the watchful eyes of a mystery man.

It's unfortunate one of Audrey Hepburn's final roles landed in a Sidney Sheldon novel adaptation, her presence and expensive gowns consumed by rubbish. A plastic script by Laird Koenig is mishandled by director Terence Young, and any potential for quality is eradicated by botched editing. Even the usually reliable Ennio Morricone flounders, his music score unmemorable and unsuitable. The international cast members (also including Irene Papas, Claudia Mori, Michelle Phillips, Maurice Ronet, and Beatrice Straight) go through the mechanical motions, spouting lines with television-level efficiency and a bewildering lack of conviction, eyes firmly on cashing the cheque.  

Elizabeth invests her time traveling for no purpose between European cities, with one particularly awful detour to Poland, where amateurish flashbacks are supposed to capture key moments (involving a horse and big needle) from her father's formative years. Somehow, Poland of the 1940s here resembles the Middle Ages. When not in jet-set and time-travel mode, Elizabeth is dodging an unseen assassin in repetitive but tension-free close-calls. The rest of the characters personify Eurotrash in action, unhappy women spending money their incompetent and philandering husbands do not have, while everyone tries to keep up appearances.

An irrelevant snuff movie subplot is wedged into the drama, providing Young an excuse for superfluous nudity and titillation. And adding a final bizarre tone, Inspector Hornung spends most of his scenes talking to a computer, which seems to have all the answers but only reveals them at the necessary pace to prolong the movie. 

Hardened by ineptitude, Bloodline is an embarrassing stain.



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Movie Review: Two For The Road (1967)

A romantic drama with a humorous bite, Two For The Road traces the multi-year history of one complicated mariage.

The film jumps between different time periods, starting with the present. Married for 12 years, successful architect Mark Wallace (Albert Finney) and his wife Joanna (Audrey Hepburn) start a vacation road trip in France, driving a white Mercedes convertible. They are tense with each other, both wondering if their marriage is worth saving. In multiple flashbacks, chapters from their lives together are revealed.

They met when Mark was a young architect visiting France on his own to photograph landmark buildings, and Joanna was part of a touring amateur singing group, and the only member to avoid a chicken pox outbreak. They traversed the countryside together for a week, fell in love and decided to get married, although Mark always expressed his distaste for commitment.

A few years later, as a happy couple they endured a road trip in the station wagon of Cathy and Howard Manchester-Maxwell (Eleanor Bron and William Daniels) and their daughter from hell Ruth. After barely surviving that ordeal, Mark and Joanna committed to only ever travel with each other.

The next road trip finds them traveling through France in an unreliable green MG, with Joanna announcing her pregnancy. On this trip they meet rich land developer Maurice (Claude Dauphin), who becomes Mark's most important but exceptionally demanding client. With the arrival of daughter Caroline, the stresses caused by Mark's narcissist tendencies and Joanna's emotional abandonment are laid bare.

With fast editing and frequent jumps to various milestone events within a 12 year history, director Stanley Donen creates an eclectic chronicle of marriage. Written by Frederic Raphael, Two For The Road benefits from excellent chemistry between stars Albert Finney and Audrey Hepburn, and presents a clear-eyed view of highlights and lowlights experienced by a passionate couple, all enlivened by a celebrated Henry Mancini soundtrack.

Love undoubtedly flourishes at the intersection of Mark's talkative confidence and Joanna's circumspect patience with playful inner strength. Finney and Hepburn convince as a couple with plenty to share, nurture and enjoy, creating a bond worth saving despite many spiky moments, barbs, and bickering flowing in both directions. Gradually the film reveals their worst moments and fundamental betrayals, genuine affection deeply challenged by diverging attitudes towards his career commitment and her desire for a family.

Two For The Road embraces the definition of road trip in the automotive era, and cars with personalities play an important role in tracing the journey of this marriage. While Hepburn's hair, wardrobe, and accessories provide generous assists, the various adventures are defined by vehicles. Wealth and success are represented by a swish Mercedes, happy newlywed struggles mean sharing the station wagon of the Manchester-Maxwells, and the barely functional MG plays an essential part in shaping the couple's destiny. A red roadster on a business trip warns of impending danger to the relationship.

Water is another recurring theme. Whether by the beach, next to a swimming pool, in a bathtub, or under the rain, Mark and Joanna often have their union reinvigorated by a good soak.

The final third of Two For The Road hits a bumpy patch, Donen almost losing control of the steering wheel as the marriage veers off the road and the furious edits creep into dizzying where-are-we-now territory. But just like the connection between Mark and Joanna, the film is both malleable and sturdy, if not without visible stress marks.



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Movie Review: Wait Until Dark (1967)

A suspense thriller, Wait Until Dark places a blind woman in peril but is otherwise too contrived to be effective.

A doll stuffed with heroin is smuggled across the border on a flight from Montreal to New York and inadvertently ends up in the apartment of housewife Susy Hendrix (Audrey Hepburn) and her photographer husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.). Susy is blind, having recently lost her eyesight in a car crash, but Sam pushes her to be independent. Drug smuggler Roat (Alan Arkin) searches the apartment but is unable to find the doll. He recruits con artists Mike Talman (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston) to trick Susy into revealing its location.

With Sam away at work, Mike pretends to be a visiting army buddy, Carlino pretends to be a crude cop, and Roat pretends to be Roat Sr., a crazy old man, as well as his son Roat Jr. They come in and out of Susy's apartment to try and get her to talk about the doll. At first trusting Mike, Susy starts to grow suspicious of all the visitors, and her only ally is the bratty young teenaged girl Gloria (Julie Herrod), who lives upstairs.

An adaptation of a play by Frederick Knott, Wait Until Dark suffers from an over elaborate plot that strains all credibility. To create the sustained drama in Susy's house, the script has the ruthless Roat concocting a most obtuse plan involving intricate playacting by three criminals, several disguises, a revolving door of comings and goings, a careful schedule of pre-planned telephone calls, signals transmitted by flashing light through kitchen blinds, and a surveillance van.

For the purpose of getting a defenceless blind woman to reveal the location of a doll, none of this makes the least bit of sense, especially after Roat's quick willingness to inflict severe bodily harm to get what he needs is revealed early on.

Director Terence Young hopes that no one notices the massive plot holes, and almost gets away with it thanks to a delicate Audrey Hepburn performance. She generates maximum sympathy as a blind but supremely attentive and smart woman, alone, being preyed on by three goons, and with no one to turn to except her young neighbour.

Alan Arkin is the other big bonus as the fierce Roat, but he disappears for long stretches, leaving Crenna and Weston to carry the bad guy load, and they are merely average.

The stage-bound theatrics rumble on with only moderate moments of suspense, mostly courtesy of Hepburn's acting, until a rightfully famous climax featuring a showdown between Susy and one criminal. The film finally jettisons the amateur playacting and ineffective psychological pressure to focus on attacker and victim, the audience sucked into Susy's dark world of mounting terror with clever use of light.

Wait Until Dark is better when the darkness finally arrives, but all the waiting is problematic.

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Movie Review: My Fair Lady (1964)

A musical drama and romance, My Fair Lady is a lavish, joyful story filled with social satire and wondrous songs.

London, in the early 1900s. Phonetics Professor Henry Higgins (Rex Harrison), a conceited confirmed bachelor, stumbles upon young Cockney flower seller Eliza Doolittle (Audrey Hepburn). A strong believer that language skills determine status, Higgins accepts a challenge from his colleague Colonel Pickering (Wilfrid Hyde-White) that he can transform Eliza into a classy society woman within six months by improving her oration. Not quite knowing what she is getting herself into, Eliza accepts and moves into Higgins' home, and he initiates round-the-clock training.

Eliza's good-for-nothing perpetually unemployed father Alfred (Stanley Holloway) senses an opportunity to make some money off Higgins. Meanwhile, Eliza finally makes a breakthrough in her pronunciation skills and Higgins starts to test her in social circles, including interactions with his mother Mrs. Higgins (Gladys Cooper) and a young potential beau Freddy (Jeremy Brett). Eliza starts to develop feelings for Higgins despite all his faults, but his supreme arrogance gets in the way.

An adaptation of the Pygmalion-inspired stage musical conceived by lyricist Alan Jay Lerner and composer Frederick Loewe, the film version of My Fair Lady succeeds in translating the show onto film with a rich aura of grandeur. Extravagantly directed by George Cukor, the film features magnanimous sets and splendid costumes to go along with George Bernard Shaw's acerbic commentary on England's classism.

The highlights are many, built around some of the best and most famous songs to make it into a film musical. As is commonly the case in musicals the first part is by far the stronger, and Cukor hits a stunning purple patch including Eliza dreaming about a better life in Wouldn't It Be Loverly, Alfred espousing the skills of doing nothing in With A Little Bit Of Luck, and then reaching a climax with the stunning double back-to back peaks of The Rain In Spain and I Could Have Danced All Night.

The most biting sequence in terms of sharp wit occurs during Eliza's first planned sojourn into the world of the wealthy at the Ascot races. Cukor stages the Ascot Gavotte with delightful discipline, laying bare the habits of the affluent yet ridiculous class, where every movement is measured and critiqued but nevertheless absurd. Eliza will never fit in with these people, and nor would she want to.

After the intermission, the songs take a break and visual splendor takes over, as Cukor unspools an effusive embassy ball scene, a standard-setting affair with sparkling costumes and matching behaviour in ballrooms and hallways filled with highbrow diplomats, royalty, military types, intelligentsia and glitterati.

With a mammoth running time of 170 minutes, the film of course has its faults. Higgins gets too many similar songs. Why Can't The English Learn To Speak, An Ordinary Man, You Did It, and Why Can't A Woman Be More Like A Man are all fine but also all too similar, hammering away at overlapping narcissism themes and pushing Higgins' characters towards an almost unsalvageable corner. The second half does inevitably sag, although it would have been miraculous had the momentum of the sterling opening 100 minutes been sustained.

Despite having her singing dubbed by Marni Nixon, Audrey Hepburn sparkles with wit and honesty, and carries the Cecil Beaton designed costumes with remarkable grace. Whether as a Covent Garden flower girl or as a tentative debutant on the elite social scene, the role of Eliza is a prominent jewel in Hepburn's extraordinary career crown. Rex Harrison matches her with a performance full of self-satisfied bombast.

My Fair Lady is traditional Hollywood at its finest, putting on a no-expenses-spared show with the stars shining bright.

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Movie review: Charade (1963)

A stylish spy thriller with a dash of humour, Charade thrives on a hip vibe generated by a crackling mystery, a stellar cast, and a cool Parisian setting.

Regina "Reggie" Lampert (Audrey Hepburn) is trapped in a loveless marriage with a husband she barely knows. While she is on vacation, suave stranger Peter Joshua (Cary Grant) seems to make it a point to meet her. Reggie returns to her Paris apartment and is startled to learn her husband Charles is dead, having been thrown from a train, and has left her next to nothing. At Charles' funeral service, three grim strangers show up: Tex (James Coburn), Scobie (George Kennedy) and Gideon (Ned Glass). They all seem eager to confirm that Charles is indeed dead.

Joshua reappears and befriends Reggie, while in the following few days Tex, Scobie and Gideon start to make their menacing presence felt with veiled and obvious threats. American Embassy official Hamilton Bartholomew (Walter Matthau) connects with Reggie to warn her that Charles was illegally in possession of $250,000 that belonged to the United States government, and that the three henchmen are his former crime accomplices and likely won't stop at anything to find the missing money. Reggie has no idea where her ex-husband has stashed the loot, but soon realizes that even with Joshua's help her life is in grave danger, she can trust no one, and nothing is at it seems.

The premise is simple: a plucky damsel in distress is surrounded by a throng of potentially dangerous men. The bad guys are chasing a classic MacGuffin in the form of a missing cache of World War Two money stolen by four soldiers while on a mission behind enemy lines. Elegantly directed by Stanley Donen, Charade is an engaging Hitchcockian thriller handled with a light touch, the Peter Stone screenplay (based on the 1961 short story The Unsuspecting Wife) featuring a romp through Paris with romance and humour injected in just the right amounts to brighten the mood.

The Henry Mancini music score and title song, as well as the animated opening credit sequence by Maurice Binder, announce Charade as a slick example of 1960s film making. Donen aims for chic smoothness, and achieves it through personality and pacing. Even during the more serious action and danger scenes Donen leaves no doubt Reggie will emerge unscathed, and numerous hints wink at the many plot twists. Charade unfolds like a fun trip through a handsomely-trimmed maze; there are a few surprises around some corners, but never any doubt about the final destination.

On closer examination there are plot holes to be sure, as well as some incongruous character reactions as Reggie demonstrates remarkable composure and reaches for clever quips in the face of sudden danger. The flame of romance between Joshua and Reggie also has the potential to flounder on the jagged rocks of a 25 year age difference between Grant and Hepburn. That hurdle is mostly cleared by making Reggie the romantic instigator, a stance that fits in with her relief and liberation at the end of a loveless marriage. Hepburn and Grant develop an easy chemistry and glide over the rough patches on a large dose of star charisma.

The supporting cast is deep in talent. George Kennedy waves a steel claw to good effect, James Coburn does the same with a Texan accent, and Walter Matthau adds bureaucratic oiliness. Filled with unscrupulous villains chasing a cheeky heroine, Charade wins on charm.

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The Movies Of Audrey Hepburn

All movies starring Audrey Hepburn and reviewed on the Ace Black Movie Blog are linked below:

Roman Holiday (1953)

Sabrina (1954)

Love In The Afternoon (1957)

The Nun's Story (1959)

Breakfast At Tiffany's (1961)

The Children's Hour (1961)

Charade (1963)

My Fair Lady (1964)

How To Steal A Million (1966)

Two For The Road (1967)

Wait Until Dark (1967)

Bloodline (1979)

Always (1989)

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The Movie Star Index is here.

Movie Review: Sabrina (1954)

A sophisticated romantic comedy with a bright cast and an enjoyable love triangle, Sabrina sparkles with wit and talent.

The Larrabee family are rich industrialists who control multiple companies and throw lavish parties at their grand mansion. Linus Larrabee (Humphrey Bogart) runs the business empire with cold efficiency, while his younger brother David (William Holden) is the careless playboy, already married and divorced several times. Thomas Fairchild (John Williams) is the loyal family chauffeur, and he lives above the garage with his impressionable daughter Sabrina (Audrey Hepburn).

Sabrina harbours a long-term crush on David, and when she is finally convinced that he does not even know that she exists, she tries to kill herself but is saved by Linus. Thomas packs off his daughter to Paris, where she enrolls in cooking school. Two years later, she returns as a much more sophisticated woman, with a stylish look and a new confidence to get what she wants. David is immediately smitten, but Linus has arranged for his younger brother to marry Elizabeth Tyson (Martha Hyer) in the interest of furthering a major business deal. Linus starts to spend time with Sabrina to distract her from David, and an unexpected love triangle develops.

Fresh from her break-out performance in Roman Holiday, Audrey Hepburn was quickly paired with more top Hollywood talent in the form of Humphrey Bogart, William Holden and director Billy Wilder. With a screenplay by  Wilder and Ernest Lehman, Sabrina is a lighthearted delight, making best use of Hepburn's charms and cajoling a uniquely engaging performance out of Bogart.

In many ways turning the premise of Roman Holiday on its head, in Sabrina Hepburn plays the commoner mingling with the upper classes, and she proves her range with an equally convincing turn. Whether barefoot and star-struck standing on a tree early in the film or at the height of sophistication and stealing all hearts in her post-Paris transformation, Hepburn oozes understated star power, effortlessly commanding the screen with her searching eyes and undeniable presence.

Hepburn provides an injection of life into Bogart's screen persona. Linus Larrabee has all the decisive attributes of a typical Bogart character, but despite the age difference his romance with Sabrina rings true. Both Linus and Sabrina have their hearts clearly set on other targets (David in her case, new business opportunities in his case), so when their relationship starts to warm up it crackles with the familiar current of unintended attraction.

Despite venturing into territory as dark as attempted suicide and the thorny issues of classism, Wilder manages to keep the mood jovial with exquisite pacing. The film bounces along at an energetic clip, and allows all three of the lead characters plenty of opportunities to develop along individual arcs. Sabrina uses Paris to mature from girl to woman, David finally sets his eyes on a woman that he might settle down with, and Linus awakens to the opportunities offered by a world outside the corporate boardroom.

And it's all delivered with touches of refreshing humour, including David dealing with the consequences of sitting on wine glasses, Linus wholeheartedly embracing the technology of plastics, and the patriarch Oliver Larrabee (William Hampden) slipping into the dottiness of old age.

She may be only the chauffeur's daughter, but Sabrina is the one who takes the Larrabee family on a wild ride.

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Movie Review: Roman Holiday (1953)

Audrey Hepburn's grand introduction to global stardom, Roman Holiday is a perfect romance, with the story of a vibrant but weary princess on the loose in Rome tinged with comedy and poignancy.

Young and glamorous Royal Princess Ann (Hepburn) is on an extensive goodwill tour of Europe on behalf of her unnamed country, and nearing exhaustion. Not allowed to make any of her own decisions and over scheduled with ceremonial events, she finally suffers a breakdown in Rome, throws a royal fit that rocks her entourage, and is given a sedative. But in the middle of the night Ann decides that what she needs is a break from the madness of formality, and she escapes from the embassy compound, intent on playing tourist.

Joe Bradley (Gregory Peck) is a laid back American journalist based in Rome. He stumbles upon Ann sleeping on an outdoor bench, and allows her to crash at his apartment until the she sleeps off the sedation. Joe eventually realizes that Ann is the missing princess, and with the help of his photographer friend Irving (Eddie Albert), he plans to secure the surreptitious scoop of a lifetime. But as Joe and Ann spend more time together in Rome, they grow fond of each other and both have to reevaluate their motives.

Roman Holiday compiles the best elements of a successful romance into a flawless package. Two attractive leads from contrasting backgrounds, an exotic setting, a sprinkling of royalty, mischief, and a rebellious spirit, and the coming together of the young innocent princess with the worldly journalist. The film wears its pure romantic intentions on its lapel, and celebrates the magic that can happen in the unlikeliest of circumstances. Roman Holiday is a rich and leisurely stroll through the land of the possible, an exquisitely assembled piece of film making.

With Elizabeth Taylor and Jean Simmons both unavailable, director William Wyler plucked the 24 year old Hepburn from obscurity and gave her the chance of a lifetime, and she grasped it with both hands. Combining classic beauty with friendly accessibility and a pragmatic girl-next-door outlook on life, Hepburn establishes her coquettish persona in a few short scenes, and fearlessly matches the veteran Peck, step for step as she marches into stardom.

Peck proves to be the perfect partner for Hepburn's stepping out party, his gentlemanly air conveying distinguished experience and paving the way for Hepburn to stride into Hollywood's glamour circle, clutching the Best Actress Academy Award.

Wyler also insisted that Roman Holiday be filmed entirely on location in Rome, an astute decision that immeasurably adds to the authenticity of the experience. The familiar and famous locations, including the Fontana di Trevi, the Piazza Venezia, the Spanish Steps and Colosseum provide a backdrop that emphasizes Ann's desire to break free and see the sights unconfined by protocol, while the many Italian supporting actors in small roles add a distinctive and genuine flavour that sets Roman Holiday apart from backlot productions.

The classic scenes are many, sprinkled like gold dust throughout the film. Joe expertly rolling the blissfully sleeping Ann off his precious bed and onto the couch; Ann and Joe motoring through Rome and eventually into trouble on a scooter; Joe surprising Ann at the Mouth Of Truth; Joe none-too-subtly bruising Irving into understanding his plan for a scoop; Ann introducing herself to Irving as Anya Smith and earning the nickname "Smitty" for her troubles; and the wild rumble with government agents at the docks where Ann gets to demonstrate her guitar weaponry skills. Roman Holiday is filled with clever touches of humour and caring, the fertile ground for affection to blossom.

And just as often as Wyler and screenwriters Dalton Trumbo, Ian McLellan Hunter and John Dighton hit the right notes, they also avoid the traps that tend to diminish cinematic romances. Once Ann and Joe start to enjoy their time together, the risks to the relationship are not extraneous; rather the potential lovers themselves have to assess the complexities of where their emotions are heading and balance immediate personal fulfillment with longer-term realistic expectations. And the ending finds contentment in a mature resolution that respects the context.

Roman Holiday is a classy romance, and an impeccable launch for the most elegant of stars.

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Movie Review: The Nun's Story (1959)

A drama about the struggle to adhere to higher ideals, The Nun's Story is a sincere exploration of the conflict between two competing aspirations, both admirable.

In Belgium of the late 1920s, Gabrielle "Gaby" Van Der Mal (Audrey Hepburn) enters a convent to start the process of becoming a nursing nun. Her father Hubert (Dean Jagger) is a famous surgeon, and Gaby's ambition is to provide medical services as a nun in Congo. Gaby commits herself to learning the proper habits of a nun, including long periods of silence, letting go of her past, frequent prayers, and public confession of every transgression in front of all the other nuns. Gaby makes good progress, takes her vows, and is granted the title Sister Luke. But she continues to struggle with the concept of absolute obedience and complete humility. Her background as the daughter of a recognized surgeon is a point of pride, and her love of medicine competes with her dedication to religious ceremony.

Sister Luke serves a stint in a Belgian mental hospital, and is finally assigned to the Congo, where she is disappointed to find herself stationed at a hospital for white people rather than helping the locals. But gradually she proves her value, and is assigned to help the abrasive Dr. Fortunati (Peter Finch) as his head surgical nurse. An unconventional emergency surgery, an unexpected illness, and a shocking incident bring Sister Luke and Fortunati close together, but she is called back to Belgium. When World War Two erupts, Sister Luke is forced to assess the discord between religious duty and the longing to pursue medical and political involvement.

Directed by Fred Zinnemann from a Robert Anderson adaptation of Kathryn Hulme's book (based on the life of her friend Marie Louise Habets), The Nun's Story is involving without necessarily touching the emotional heights that it aims for. The evolution of Gabrielle Van Der Mal into Sister Luke is a ponderous journey filled with introspection, self-evaluation, self-doubt and struggle to conform to an impossible ideal. This is a story about the search for personal fulfillment through individual endeavour, and for long stretches there is not much of interest going on outside of Gabrielle's discovery process and internal thoughts.

The film unfolds like a documentary, an earnest depiction of the sacrifices and ceremony involved in dedicating a life to the service of others. The lack of a narrative thrust makes for a slow but educational first two thirds of the protracted 149 minutes of running time. Hepburn as Gaby is almost silently swept along by the higher calling and fully immersed in unlearning any personal desires while striving for the appropriate inward and outward behaviours of a nun.

The final third of the movie picks up the pace, as Dr. Fortunati proves to be a turning point in Sister Luke's life, then World War Two interferes and pushes for a conclusion about her aspirations and beliefs. The film finally offers a sharply defined dilemma for the main character to grapple with, and the dramatic quotient positively benefits.

Zinnemann directs with his usual courtly approach, giving every scene stately time to breathe, impress and register. The initial transformation of Gaby into Sister Luke, which occupies the first hour, is filled with imposing ceremonies in the Mother House, allowing Zinnemann and his cinematographer Franz Planer to find impressive angles and capture lofty assembly halls filled with solemn extras, while the Franz Waxman music score adds to the ambiance. It's a visual and auditory feast, the dividend achieved from the leisurely pace.

Audrey Hepburn was nominated for the Best Actress Academy Award, and her performance is a rewarding study in restraint. Hepburn conveys all her internal conflict from within an ocean of calm and through the briefest of blurted expressions, and only late in the film does she start outwardly expressing clear thoughts that challenge the rules of others. The coarse and refreshingly blunt Peter Finch injects plenty of energy, but is on the screen for a relatively short stretch. The rest of the supporting cast is a large but rather interchangeable sea of faces representing all the nuns that Gaby interacts with over the years.

The Nun's Story is impressive and dignified. What the film lacks in intensity, it more than makes up for in quiet grandeur.

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Movie Review: Love In The Afternoon (1957)

A spring - winter romance, Love In The Afternoon is talkative and static, but still manages to shine thanks to a radiant Audrey Hepburn and a congenial Maurice Chevalier.

Claude Chavasse (Chevalier) is an elderly private detective in Paris, typically hired to prove infidelity. A widower, Claude lives with his daughter Ariane (Hepburn), an aspiring cellist with a inquisitive disposition who does not hesitate to rifle through her father's files. Claude's latest client is Monsieur X (John McGiver), and sure enough Claude uncovers Madame X having a liaison with rich American businessman and renowned philanderer Frank Flannagan (Gary Cooper) at Frank's Ritz Hotel room. Monsieur X claims that he wants to catch his wife in the act and shoot Frank. This horrifies the eavesdropping Ariane, and she sets about to intervene.

Monsieur X: Please, monsieur, is the news good or bad?
Claude: That depends. Is this your wife? [Hands over a photograph]
Monsieur X: It looks like her.
Claude: Then I regret to inform you that it looks bad.
Monsieur X: Then there IS another man!
Claude: There is. And I regret to say that he looks good.

Ariane does save Frank, there is an immediate attraction between them, and they start to see each other regularly at Frank's hotel room, always in the afternoon. But Frank is a high flying businessman with a lover in every city and no intention of settling down. Ariane is a romantic looking for her dream man, but to make Frank jealous, she creates the illusion of also having numerous lovers. It's a dangerous game, as Frank is well set in his womanizing ways, and Ariane's heart is deeply set on Frank.

Cooper was 56 years old at the time of release, and only four years away from his untimely death. Hepburn was literally half his age at 28. As in the quote above, the script tries to insist that Cooper is a handsome devil, but unfortunately he was not a leading man able to camouflage his age. He carried every one of those 56 years, creating a central problem for Love In The Afternoon. As much as Frank Flannagan is a successful jet-setting businessman, Ariane is simply too smart, practical and resourceful to immediately fall for a man who could well be her elderly uncle. Any chemistry between the two quickly smells foul.

Past the troublesome age difference, the film is a romance based on a lot of talking in just the two locations. Director Billy Wilder, who co-wrote the script with I.A.L. Diamond, is rarely able to break away from Flannagan's hotel room and Claude's apartment, which doubles as his office. With a running length of 130 minutes, a sense of claustrophobia is unavoidable. Since Love In The Afternoon is based on a novel (Claude Anet's Ariane, Jeune Fille Russe), and not a stage play, the inadequate variety in settings is a sign of either a lack of imagination or budget limitations, or both.

But despite the shortcomings, the movie does work better than it should. The dialogue exchanges are sharp, Wilder and Diamond, who would go on to collaborate on a total of twelve films, finding frequent zingers that comment on everything from Paris, to shady business, and the airiness of love confronting the practicality of lust without commitment.

Ariane's one strategy to gain Frank's attention is to hold up a mirror and talk his walk, pretending that she behaves as he does, arousing intense jealousy as Frank finally has to confront the emptiness of a life full of women but lacking the one woman. It's the film's central hook, and it works beautifully thanks to Hepburn's seductively intellectual approach to her quest. And Hepburn is the film's main asset, displaying her coy appeal, giving Ariane a delightful spirit of level-headed rebellion mixed with insecurity.

Frank: Everything about you is perfect.
Ariane: I'm too thin! And my ears stick out, and my teeth are crooked and my neck's much too long.
Frank: Maybe so, but I love the way it all hangs together.

Even with Hepburn in top form, Chevalier steals every scene he is in, creating in Claude Chavasse a memorable father pretending to still have some control over his daughter while knowing full well she is off on her own, enjoying new adventures inspired by his own detective work.

Ariane: Papa, you are a cynic!
Claude: I guess I am.
Ariane: You enjoy your work!
Claude: I guess I do.
Ariane: You'd enjoyed it even if you weren't paid for it!
Claude: I wouldn't go that far.

The one recurrent elaborate gag running through Love In The Afternoon is a good one: Frank has a musical foursome known as the The Gypsies at his disposal, and they follow him around on his travels providing musical accompaniment to his numerous trysts. The Gypsies provide the film with dry humour and an entertaining musical score, although Fascination is eventually overused to distraction.

Love In The Afternoon is an imperfect but still enchanting romance, celebrating love's ability to overcome and soar, any time of day.

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Movie Review: Breakfast At Tiffany's (1961)

A cultural and stylistic landmark, Breakfast At Tiffany's is a timeless classic, capturing a society moving into a decade of enormous change, and doing it with panache.

When Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) is depressed, she eats breakfast on the sidewalk looking through the Tiffany's store window in New York. Living with her cat (named Cat) but otherwise very alone in her apartment, Holly's life is a series of encounters with men who seek her company and pay well for it. She classifies them as rats or super-rats, depending on how loathsome they are. Holly is desperately seeking happiness, fulfilment and riches; but she is unwilling to surrender her heart or her life to any true relationship. She even stoops to the level of getting paid to visit a locked-up crime boss, oblivious she is being used to transmit his commands.

Struggling author Paul Varjak (George Peppard) moves into another apartment in the same building. Women find him attractive, particularly Mrs. Failenson (Patricia Neal), a decorator willing to pay Paul for his calculated affection. Holly wants to keep Paul strictly as a friend, and does her best to deny their growing connection. Her former husband Doc (Buddy Ebsen) shows up in New York pleading with her to return to Texas, but Holly prefers a life of independent struggle to the comfort of anonymity. Eventually she reaches a critical decision point: her prospects look grim, unless she lowers the fence around her heart.

Holly Golightly is a representative icon for women rocketing from the predictability of the 1950s into the uncertain 1960s: sexually liberated, seeking love on her terms, forging an independent identity, making new connections in a freedom-obsessed society, and pressured to revert to the old but safe environment. And there are no playbooks to guide her, only instincts and self-belief. 

That Holly grapples with the big decisions in life so stylishly is a big part of Breakfast At Tiffany's appeal. The ridiculously oversized cigarette holder; the Givenchy dresses; the hats, sunglasses, and  jewellery: rarely has a single film had such an indelible impact on fashion. Craving unaffordable luxury also starts here: Holly never has any money, and she nevertheless looks gloriously fashionable wondering where the next dollar is going to come from.

Working from the novella by Truman Capote and a script by George Axelrod, director Blake Edwards assembles all the pieces of Breakfast At Tiffany's into a dazzling tapestry. He augments the visual appeal of his stars and setting with Henri Mancini's music, the spine-tingling theme song Moon River instantly claiming a place among the classic tunes of Hollywood. Edwards elegantly inserts the song throughout the movie without overexposing it. Humour is also judiciously deployed, the party scene in Holly's apartment a chaotic joy. 

Despite being cast against her wholesome image, Audrey Hepburn pulls off the role magnificently while enshrining her quiet grace and beauty, combining Holly's fun-loving innocence with a hard edged determination to keep her heart secure. George Peppard is adequate as Paul, never catching fire but holding his own. Mickey Rooney's portrayal of upstairs comic relief neighbour Mr. Yunioshi is an unfortunate yellowface misfire amplifying Asian stereotypes.

Breakfast At Tiffany's is soulful, hopeful and pragmatic. The prize is on the other side of the window, tantalizingly within reach, but at what cost.

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