The most iconic role of Audrey Hepburn's career has to be her performance as Holly Golightly in one of the defining pop cultural films of the '60s. Holly is a high-class, highly disorganised and somewhat quixotic call girl, who makes an acquaintance with Paul (George Peppard), her new neighbour and a new resident in New York. Holly has dreams of a future of riches and a life of luxury. In the early hours of the morning, she is often found drinking coffee and munching on a croissant while gazing through the inviting windows of Tiffany's, a designer store in which she sees the promise of a life of glamour and escapism.
Paul is a kept man and a failing writer. He is passively fighting for meaning and self-respect. The extremely extroverted Holly takes a liking to the somewhat more introverted Paul and what began as an acquaintance shows the promise of becoming something more. But Holly does not like becoming attached to people or places, and anything more than a fleeting romance with her neighbour threatens to introduce a level of commitment to her life that she has thus far done her utmost to avoid.
Breakfast At Tiffany's is the Ferrero Rocher of romantic comedies: it is confectionery but it is confectionery of the highest quality. This was to the chagrin of the writer of the original novella, Truman Capote, on whose work the film is based. He wanted a more sexual, less elegant Holly (Marilyn Monroe was his preferred choice). He also disliked the romantic developments between Holly and Paul as it diluted the book's original themes in which the male lead was essentially homosexual. However, despite the film clearly being a sanitised version of Capote's story, it does hang together rather well.
The most successful element of the film is, ironically, Hepburn's portrayal of Holly, which delivers elegance and charm in abundance. In the film, Holly comes across less as a call girl and more as a big city socialite trying to bag an extremely rich man so that her desire for the good life may be eternally satisfied. Holly is not completely defined by such superficial desires, however, she is confused and misunderstood, most significantly by herself. She creates personas, even changing her name and accent in order to separate herself from the past and start anew. She avoids attachment as a way of protecting herself against the vicissitudes of circumstance; in so doing, she prevents herself from finding true happiness. Hepburn has said that she struggled with the role of Holly because of the fact that the character was such an extrovert, and one can see a new energy emerge in Hepburn's performance. She perfectly encapsulates the verbosity and sheer size of personality that the character Holly possesses. Gone is the demur, humble Hepburn persona, and in steps the loquacious, unpredictable, larger-than-life personality which defines the film. What remains consistent about Hepburn's performance in comparison to her previous work, however, is that she maintains the effortless charisma that defines her as an actress.
George Peppard's Paul, on the other hand, is about as a dull as a leading man can get. He's attractive enough but doesn't have enough agency to be a truly interesting character. This is an issue with the way his character is written for the screen and perhaps also speaks to Peppard's limitations as an actor; he just doesn't exude enough of anything to grab the audience's attention and often comes across as sulky and, quite frankly, anodyne. It therefore becomes puzzling as to how he has been able to engage the affections of his much more fascinating neighbour.
The comedic moments in the film are hit and miss. There are wonderfully entertaining scenes such as Holly and Paul's afternoon of doing things they've never done before during which they wander the streets of New York, joyously pulling pranks and engaging in petty theft. There are also painful misfires such as the entirety of Mickey Rooney's disgracefully over-the-top performance in yellowface as Mr Yunioshi.
In terms of drama, the film certainly generates investment as a quasi character study of its central protagonist, Holly. But the energy of Hepburn's performance is rarely matched by the film's plot, which eventually provides an all-too-easy conclusion for what is a complex performance.
Yet the film does succeed as a highly enjoyable slice of escapist romance. It features Hepburn in her iconic black dress complete with cigarette holder and pearl necklace. It provides Hepburn's first teaming with musical composer Henry Mancini, a relationship which would go on to be wonderfully productive and, in this film, spawned the tender classic Moon River (sung by Hepburn herself no less). And it is, overall, a rather heart-warming film in its own charming little way. It might lack bite but for those with a cinematic sweet-tooth, you won't find much that satisfies your appetite better than this.
Paul is a kept man and a failing writer. He is passively fighting for meaning and self-respect. The extremely extroverted Holly takes a liking to the somewhat more introverted Paul and what began as an acquaintance shows the promise of becoming something more. But Holly does not like becoming attached to people or places, and anything more than a fleeting romance with her neighbour threatens to introduce a level of commitment to her life that she has thus far done her utmost to avoid.
Breakfast At Tiffany's is the Ferrero Rocher of romantic comedies: it is confectionery but it is confectionery of the highest quality. This was to the chagrin of the writer of the original novella, Truman Capote, on whose work the film is based. He wanted a more sexual, less elegant Holly (Marilyn Monroe was his preferred choice). He also disliked the romantic developments between Holly and Paul as it diluted the book's original themes in which the male lead was essentially homosexual. However, despite the film clearly being a sanitised version of Capote's story, it does hang together rather well.
The most successful element of the film is, ironically, Hepburn's portrayal of Holly, which delivers elegance and charm in abundance. In the film, Holly comes across less as a call girl and more as a big city socialite trying to bag an extremely rich man so that her desire for the good life may be eternally satisfied. Holly is not completely defined by such superficial desires, however, she is confused and misunderstood, most significantly by herself. She creates personas, even changing her name and accent in order to separate herself from the past and start anew. She avoids attachment as a way of protecting herself against the vicissitudes of circumstance; in so doing, she prevents herself from finding true happiness. Hepburn has said that she struggled with the role of Holly because of the fact that the character was such an extrovert, and one can see a new energy emerge in Hepburn's performance. She perfectly encapsulates the verbosity and sheer size of personality that the character Holly possesses. Gone is the demur, humble Hepburn persona, and in steps the loquacious, unpredictable, larger-than-life personality which defines the film. What remains consistent about Hepburn's performance in comparison to her previous work, however, is that she maintains the effortless charisma that defines her as an actress.
George Peppard's Paul, on the other hand, is about as a dull as a leading man can get. He's attractive enough but doesn't have enough agency to be a truly interesting character. This is an issue with the way his character is written for the screen and perhaps also speaks to Peppard's limitations as an actor; he just doesn't exude enough of anything to grab the audience's attention and often comes across as sulky and, quite frankly, anodyne. It therefore becomes puzzling as to how he has been able to engage the affections of his much more fascinating neighbour.
The comedic moments in the film are hit and miss. There are wonderfully entertaining scenes such as Holly and Paul's afternoon of doing things they've never done before during which they wander the streets of New York, joyously pulling pranks and engaging in petty theft. There are also painful misfires such as the entirety of Mickey Rooney's disgracefully over-the-top performance in yellowface as Mr Yunioshi.
In terms of drama, the film certainly generates investment as a quasi character study of its central protagonist, Holly. But the energy of Hepburn's performance is rarely matched by the film's plot, which eventually provides an all-too-easy conclusion for what is a complex performance.
Yet the film does succeed as a highly enjoyable slice of escapist romance. It features Hepburn in her iconic black dress complete with cigarette holder and pearl necklace. It provides Hepburn's first teaming with musical composer Henry Mancini, a relationship which would go on to be wonderfully productive and, in this film, spawned the tender classic Moon River (sung by Hepburn herself no less). And it is, overall, a rather heart-warming film in its own charming little way. It might lack bite but for those with a cinematic sweet-tooth, you won't find much that satisfies your appetite better than this.