Chapter 21: And I Said "What About Breakfast at Tiffany's"?

As a connoisseur of all things movies, Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) was probably one of the biggest and most embarrassing films that have remained unseen by me. Its not like I haven't had the chance to see it in the past. Blockbuster almost always has it in store under the "classics" section, Netflix has been streaming it online for god knows how long and TCM plays it a few times a year. This is in addition to a couple of friends who have it on DVD. So why haven't I gotten around to seeing it? Well part of the reason is because its a precursor to the modern chick-flick. I've never been a fan of the genre with the exception of Ghost (1990) and Titanic (1997). And even those movies can be classified in other ways: supernatural thriller and disaster film respectfully.

The largest reason why I never got around to seeing Breakfast at Tiffany's is Blake Edwards, the director and most overrated auteur of his time. Famous for the original Pink Panther franchise (1963-1993), Blake Edwards may have been considered talented when slipping on a banana peel was still funny but watching his brand of broad, genteel comedy today feels like the stale jokes grandpa used to make. Don't believe me, watch the "classic" A Shot in the Dark (1964) and see how it stacks up to say the worst Judd Apatow movie you can find. The only movie of his I marginally enjoyed was Micki + Maude (1984) about a bigamist who impregnates two different women.

But I digress. After all, Breakfast at Tiffany's isn't really a Blake Edwards movie, its an Audrey Hepburn movie. An actress who has had a much better track record as far as impressing me. My Fair Lady (1964), Charade (1963), Roman Holiday (1953) and my personal favorite Sabrina (1954) are all great movies I thoroughly enjoyed. Plus with a story originally penned by Truman Capote the film has a potential to at least be decent.

In a word it was a decent film, but there were things that really bothered me. The story surrounds a young lady (Hepburn) who flirts with high society and dreams of riches but lives in an empty apartment with a nameless cat. She meets Paul (George Peppard) who has just moved into the apartment building and instantly feels a connection with him. It's a swanky Manhattan romance with a fairytale feel throughout it.

Of course I can't really mention the film in full without mentioning Mickey Rooney's incredibly offensive Mr. Yunioshi caricature. Even for 1961 his portrayal of Holly's ornery Japanese neighbor had to have been incredibly offensive. Its even sadder when you consider putting a corn-fed honky in Asian prosthetics was actually quite common both before and after Breakfast at Tiffany's. White actors Peter Lorre and Warner Oland played offensive Asian stereotypes in the form of Mr. Moto (1937-1939) and Charlie Chan (1926-1942) respectively. Oland also played the original Dr. Fu Manchu (1929-1932) because Swedes so obviously look Asian. Even as late as 1976 Peter Sellers played Confucius quoting China-man detective Sidney Wang in Neil Simon's Murder by Death. With all this, people wonder why China's taking over.

But lets talk about the less offensive problems. George Peppard is so milquetoast and bland as Paul that he seems to be a spectator in his own love story. Every important development is taken with a disconnected shrug of the shoulders that when his affections are finally proclaimed they seem like the utterances of a petulant child who just woke up from a nap.

On the flip side of the coin, Hepburn does a decent job; her Holly Golightly character is charming enough for most audience members to ignore her obvious psychological problems. What psychological problems you ask? At one point she peeks into his apartment through the fire escape, crawls into his apartment interrogates him with a bunch of personal questions, sleeps in his bed then barges out after he asks her anything. Then through most of the movie she tries in vain to marry a rich sugar daddy despite the fact her little writer friend is so obviously falling in love with her.

I just don't see a very bright future for these people. I'm not saying people like Holly and Paul don't exist in real life, nor am I saying they aren't likeable or deserve happiness, I just don't see their relationship lasting past finding a cab in the rain. Even when the movie ends on a high note, I can imagine things falling apart within the next few minutes. They both come to the crushing realization that they're both unemployed and broke, her defense mechanisms will invariably come back online, he gets angry, she goes back to her apartment to find her child they failed to mention from the book and he grows some cojones and says "screw you I'm going to Disney World". Now that would be a more realistic ending.

But as it stands Breakfast at Tiffany's is a serviceable love story and a fine movie that I'm sure holds special meaning to some. People like my roommate, who find it to be one of the best romantic comedies of all time will no doubt think the same even after I have savaged it on this blog. Who am I to poo-poo it.