Roman Holiday (1953) dir. William Wyler
Starring: Audrey Hepburn, Gregory Peck, Eddie Albert

***

By Alan Bacchus

Like the breezing feeling of driving around the Roman Portico on a Vespa, such is the experience of watching Roman Holiday, the delightful romantic comedy and screen debut of Audrey Hepburn and accidental advertising campaign for Vespa scooters.

Miss Hepburn in first major screen role at the age of 24, plays Princess Ann, a royal from an unspecified country, likely patterned after then youthful princess Elizabeth II who was inaugurated as the Queen the year before. Ann’s come to Rome on an official visit, which means endless days of bows, curtsies, pomp and ceremony. As she watches the vivacious energy of the common people in the streets she desperately yearns to experience the city this way. The night before she’s due to leave Rome she escapes from the room and lands herself in the middle of Rome at night.

Sleepy-headed and thus out of sorts, she falls into the company of a handsome journalist Joe Bradley (Gregory Peck), and winds up sleeping on his couch. The next morning, Joe and Princess Ann gallivant around the city riding Vespas, getting her hair done, sight seeing etc. Only Joe knows it’s actually the Princess and hides the fact that he’s a journalist in order to get an exclusive story. Even though they fall in love her royal duties prevent her from being with Joe, but not before Princess Ann admonishes her affection for him in a coy speech to the press in the film’s finale.

Roman Holiday feels like a template film for modern romantic comedies – specifically 'Notting Hill', and virtually every romcom made by Garry Marshall. Despite being a royal of privilege and wealth her character is written as a porcelain doll unable to experience the real joys in life – only the fake, manufactured life of being a public figure to be gawked at like an ornament on the mantelpiece. Thus the audience feels empowered to see the upper class in a position of superiority. But it’s really fairytale stuff, a reverse Cinderella/Pygmalion story which isn’t all the original in the first place.

Conflict is kept to a minimum for the most part, as Joe is never really taken to task for his deception of Ann. There’s also some laughable lapses in cinema logic – specifically the idea that the Princess can walk around Rome not noticed. Or even that by cutting her hair she would be rendered completely invisible. But there’s no such thing as common sense in cinema as long as it fits into the formalized structure of the genre. And this screenplay is crafted to genre-perfection.

The screenplay, written by then blacklisted Dalton Trumbo, who couldn’t take credit for the work, was originally packaged for Elizabeth Taylor and Cary Grant. When Hepburn replaced Taylor Grant bowed out for fear of being upstaged by the meatier role and Hepburn’s innate on screen charm. Peck admirably shares the screen and the starring credit, furthering his reputation as a Hollywood nice guy. Hepburn even won an Oscar for the work.

In 1953, the on location setting was new and fresh, and even with today’s eyes Rome in the 1950’s is rendered impossibly romantic. And with Peck and Hepburn searing the screen it justly remains a classic today, a dreamy romcom par excellence.

The Heiress (1949) dir. William Wyler
Starring: Olivia De Havilland, Montgomery Clift, Ralph Richardson

***½

By Alan Bacchus

The story of a frumpy spinster and wealthy Heiress, unlucky in love, finds her soul mate in penniless gentleman and fights to keep him against the wishes of her controlling and oppressive father, would seem like ripe material for a triumph of love over money. William Wyler’s adaptation of Augustus Goetz’ play, itself a refashioning of Henry James’ Washington Square is one of the most unexpectedly cynical takes romance in studio Hollywood.

It's the story of love from the angle of the courtship ritual - in this case the Victorian way - a brutal class system transported to America fits like a square peg in a round hole. Olivia De Havilland, one of the most radiant movie stars to ever grace our screens plays the dowdy, shy, and believe it or not, unattractive spinster Catherine Sloper. She's the heiress to a family fortune, but only if she can find a husband to marry. Her knight in shining armour appears to her at a party, a polite gentleman, Mr. Townsend (Clift) who courts her adhering to all the rules of the Victorian aristocracy. It’s a very specific procedure, articulately with precision by Wyler, of dance, calling upon, formal greetings, and most importantly paternal approval.

Ralph Richardson plays the father, a successful and wealthy doctor with a very doubting eye. He’s characterized early as an oppressive figure with expectations too high but in general disappointed in his daughter’s inability to fit into the social culture of his 'class'. While he can be a complete shit and disrespectful at times we do feel he has his daughter’s best interests. And so for much of the film he walks a fine line between fatherly and overprotective.

Montgomery Clift plays Townsend with his usual sympathy. He pours out his love for Catherine so quickly. It’s romantic and honourable until Catherine’s father starts poking holes in his character. And the judge of character were never more important in this society, as tender as currency back in these days.

Old man Sloper approaches his suspicions of Mr. Townsend like he’s diagnosing an illness. Through his conversations at tea and dinner and meetings with his family he slowly sands off the lustre of his charm and find a potentially nefarious motives.

But what it ultimately comes down to is his contempt for his own daughter, feeling that they only thing she has to offer is her money. By the midpoint, we’re kept in the dark as to whether Townsend is genuine and whether the love between the two can surmount Sloper’s obstructions. Is Townsend a golddigger? Or does truly love her?

Admittedly I expected, up until the very end studio Hollywood optimism would prevail, and so when the carpet is pulled out from under Catherine, it’s a sharp jolt to us, the audience, as well. Wyler completes a dark and pessimistic character arc for Catherine, the stuff of great tragedy. Of course, if I had read Henry James, I wouldn’t have had this expectation. And so the ability of Wyler and Fox to tread such dark territory and fool me to easily is admirable.