Breakfast at Tiffany's

Released:  October 5^th, 1961

Rated:  not rated

Distributor:  Paramount Pictures

Starring:  Audrey Hepburn, George Peppard, Patricia Neal, Buddy Ebsen

Directed by:  Black Edwards

Written by:  George Axelrod

Personal Bias Alert:  loves the book, likes mixed tones

7.5 of 10

            James Dean’s red jacket.  Marilyn Monroe’s white halterneck.  Audrey Hepburn’s little black dress.  Some outfits are so iconic that they become ingrained in the pop culture landscape, latching themselves onto their wearer until, long after their star has faded, the outfit becomes the lasting image of the person.  The woman who waltzes into a Halloween party sporting a LBD, statement necklace, and a long cigarette holder will undoubtedly proclaim that they are Audrey Hepburn.  Those of us who’ve had the pleasure of seeing Breakfast at Tiffany’s will perhaps murmur the correct answer, but the distinction between Hepburn and her character, Holly Golightly, has been smeared by time, melding the two legacies in a way that makes them almost indecipherable.

            But the inauspicious Audrey was, in many ways, the opposite of Holly.  It’s a testament to her grand performance that the character is remembered so, well, grandly.  A bravura socialite, Holly flits through Breakfast at Tiffany’s as if nothing can bring her down, even as the floor is crumbling beneath her.  There to catch her is Paul (George Peppard), her upstairs neighbor and kindred spirit.  Together, they battle the ups and downs that their busy Manhattan lives throw at them while scraping together enough money from less than legal means (which were downright risqué for the time) to pay the bills.

            Peppard’s more stable Paul takes a backseat to Hepburn’s lurching Holly, but both successfully navigate their characters through the film’s vacillating tone.  They’re charming, funny, heartbreaking, and forceful, managing to stay in synch with each other and keep the film bounding along with an affable appeal.  Their romance is the film’s primary concern, which is one of the many changes writer George Axelrod made when adapting the book.  The film is lesser for it, as Truman Capote’s wonderful little novella captures an underrepresented sort of relationship that is about connection instead of romance.  The ending of the book, which happens to be a personal favorite of mine, pierces into the meaning of these relationships with such clarity that it’s almost too beautiful to look at.  In changing the nature of Paul and Holly’s relationship, the film sets out on a much simpler, well-trod path, and while it’s a perfectly adequate entry in romance’s storied history, those who know the source material will mourn what was left behind.

             The pieces of Capote’s novella that were kept are the more amusing and rewarding aspects of the film.  Holly is a magnet on the page and the screen, keeping all eyes on her energetic escapades and unhidden blemishes.  We find out early on that she suffers from some form of anxiety that she refers to as the ‘mean reds’ and uses this flaw as an excuse to keep others at a distance.  As in the novel, Holly takes this so far that she refuses to name her adopted cat, but director Blake Edwards takes the personification to a whole other level.  The cat is used as a literal representation of the anxiety that exists within her, always lurking in the background or hovering over her as she goes about her day, threatening to jump to the forefront at any moment.  This is one of many ways that Edwards uses the visuals to bring the nuances of Capote’s work to the screen, and as a bonus, to keep the visuals from falling into complacency.

            The team at Paramount were certainly happy with the finished product, no matter how far it strayed from the source material.  Audiences were, too, and newcomers are still delighted by its complicated but never frail lead.  The long shelf life of book and movie have been earned by both, but it’s the book, I suspect, that will outlive its lesser offspring.

Other Notes:

Ø  Yes, the portrait of Mr. Yunioshi is deeply offensive.  There’s no way around that.

Ø  If my interpretation of the cat is correct, then that ending could imply some rocky times ahead for Paul and Holly.

Ø  Because I grew up in the ‘90s, I’ve had Deep Blue Something’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s stuck in my head for days now.