A Love/Hate Relationship with the AFI's 100 Romances
by Elizabeth, ReelClassics.com
June 11, 2002
Lists ... shmists... twists... jists... mists... The American
Film Institute continues to make them because they usually spark a little
controversy and temporarily reignite public interest in the ever-declining
medium of movies, providing a nice promotional platform for the AFI and,
indirectly, its efforts toward film preservation. Thus, all things considered, I
support the list-making because it promotes a worthy cause, even if I can't help
but disagree with the way things turn out much of the time.
In its most recent list, "100 Years ... 100 Passions," the AFI
has ranked the greatest love stories of the first century of American cinema.
That CASABLANCA (1942) came
in at #1 was no great surprise. The film is worthy of its legendary status and
few would venture to dispute its position as the silver screen's greatest
romance. That GONE WITH THE WIND (1939)
and WEST SIDE STORY (1961)
came next also lacked any shock value -- the former, the epitome of a sprawling,
epic film romance, and the latter, a modernized Romeo-and-Juliet romantic
tragedy as eternal as love itself. But the lack of controversy among the top
three vote-getters does not make the list worth complaining about. Indeed, when
a consensus exists, it is only proper that the list should reflect it. I also
have no complaints about the general trend in the list toward unrequited-love
stories. (Seven of the top ten films do not have happily-ever-after endings, and
an eighth is ambiguous as to its finale outcome.) Personally, I have always been
partial to romances that don't work out in conventional terms, because they give
you a taste of perfection and leave the rest of what might have been to your
imagination -– the imagination being the ultimate romantic medium because it
permits brief memories of potent screen moments to evolve into meaningful,
personalized fantasies.
My complaints -- and they are personal -– are in the details.
Primarily, the AFI voters seem to have been unable to set aside their critical
eye and appreciate the sheer emotion of these screen romances without analyzing
the writing, lighting, cutting and camera angles they are made of. Two primary
examples:
SINGIN' IN THE RAIN (1952) is one of the great movie musicals of all time, and
its predecessor, AN AMERICAN IN PARIS (1951), though it won a Best Picture Oscar
for the innovation of its "American in Paris Ballet" sequence and its
contribution to the art of film dance, is another excellent yet somewhat
less-worthy film. Both star Gene Kelly,
undeniably one of the silver screen's sexiest dancers in pants. However, for all
its charms (of which there are many), SINGIN' IN THE RAIN is much more of a
satirical comedy than a love story. In fact, romantic chemistry is virtually
non-existent in the film. You sure don't see it between
Kelly and co-star
Debbie Reynolds, and what is
there is most evident when Kelly is
alone with his umbrella, "dancin' and singin' in the rain." AN AMERICAN IN PARIS
on the other hand, is a love story. Though it lacks
SINGIN' IN THE RAIN's wit,
AN AMERICAN IN PARIS and its swaying, Gershwin-scored pas-de-deux between
Kelly and Leslie Caron far surpasses
the former in the romantic chemistry department. Yet the AFI voters ranked
SINGIN' IN THE RAIN 16th on the list, while AN AMERICAN IN PARIS came in at #39.
Relatively speaking, in terms of their romantic content, their positions
should have been reversed. And to carry the argument still further, BRIGADOON,
Kelly's 1954 ballet-romance with
long-legged dance dynamo Cyd
Charisse, didn't even make the list.
Charisse's two specialty
numbers in SINGIN' IN THE RAIN had provided that film with a much-needed jolt of
sexual chemistry, further diminishing
Debbie Reynolds' romantic
appeal, and when she and Kelly were
finally left alone together in BRIGADOON, the fire they ignited in the heather
on the hill was enough to establish theirs as the purest form of
love-making-through-dance on screen. And yet the AFI voters chose to
ignore this film entirely.
In a similar example of relative mis-values,
Katharine Hepburn and
Cary Grant (the list's top two romantic
performers) appeared together in four films, two of which made the list:
THE PHILADELPHIA STORY (1940)
at #44 and BRINGING UP BABY (1938) at #51. Much of the romantic appeal of
THE PHILADELPHIA STORY is
attributable to the added presence of
Jimmy Stewart however, and the romantic triangle he anchors in the film
makes a comparison with BRINGING UP BABY unfair. Instead, the ranking of
BRINGING UP BABY should be reconsidered in the presence of another list no-show,
Hepburn and
Grant's second teaming of 1938,
HOLIDAY. While both HOLIDAY and BRINGING UP BABY can accurately be described as
screwball comedies, BRINGING UP BABY, with its leopards, loon calls and dinosaur
bones, is far more screwy than HOLIDAY, which for all its eccentricities, is at
heart, a love story between two, free-thinking social outcasts. While BRINGING
UP BABY is probably a better film overall, and certainly a better comedy,
HOLIDAY is a superior love story, and once again, the critical eye of the AFI
voters failed to make the distinction between a great film and a great film
romance.
For the record, other list features which amazed me were the surprisingly low
ranking of THE QUIET MAN (1952)
(#76) and the surprisingly high ranking of
MY FAIR LADY (1964) (#12).
Unquestionably a romance, and one with unique and charming character,
THE QUIET MAN is a delightful
film about two strong-willed characters (John
Wayne and Maureen O'Hara) who
are meant for each other and fall in love at first sight, yet require the help
of an entire Irish village to surmount the personal and cultural obstacles
between them. The romantic and sexual chemistry between
Wayne and
O'Hara is unmistakable (their
kiss in the rain compares favorably to the end of
BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S (1961)
(#61)), and the only way I can explain
THE QUIET MAN's place at #76 is
to suggest that the Vietnam-scarred AFI voters probably still find themselves
reluctant to acknowledge all-American icon
John Wayne in any capacity. In this
case, such prejudices are really a shame because
THE QUIET MAN is one of
Wayne's best performances and one of
his least iconic films.
MY FAIR LADY's ranking at #12
surprises me because, like SINGIN' IN THE RAIN, it is a better satire than a
love story, and the chemistry simply isn't there. Again, the film's best
romantic moments occur when the principal characters (Audrey
Hepburn, Rex Harrison and Jeremy
Brett) are alone, singing "I Could Have Danced All Night," "I've Grown
Accustomed to Her Face" and "On the Street Where You Live" respectively. And
while Harrison and Brett's songs are both
specifically about Hepburn, her
"I Could Have Danced All Night" is as deliberately ambiguous as the romantic
plotting of the film itself. It may be a Cinderella story, but the casting of
Prince Charming is definitely against type, and it is not altogether clear at
the end that he even understands the value of the prize he has won. Though a
marvelous movie musical, the strong romantic appeal of
MY FAIR LADY to the AFI
voters escapes me, and I can only attribute it to the combination of classic
love story elements (taken from the Greek myth of Pygmalion which, interestingly
enough, did not have a happy ending) and the generic love affair which audiences
have always carried on with Audrey
Hepburn, no matter her co-star.
In a brief aside, it seems a crime to include such worthy films as SLEEPLESS IN
SEATTLE (1993) (#45) and AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER (1957) (#5) without acknowledging
the film that inspired both of them, LOVE AFFAIR (1939) with
Irene Dunne and
Charles Boyer. Though the original
has its short-comings and suffers somewhat from its quick, cost-cutting, 1939
pacing, Dunne captures the joys
and sorrows of a woman in love better than any of the leading ladies who have
succeeded her, and to leave her performance out seems entirely unfair.
On a positive note, I was pleasantly surprised by the inclusion (or relatively
high ranking) of such films as A STAR IS BORN (1954) (#43), BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
(1991) (#34), ON GOLDEN POND (1981) (#22) and CITY LIGHTS (1931) (#10), all of
which evidenced a willingness on the part of some AFI voters to follow their
hearts and think a little outside the box. But when it comes to KING KONG
(1933) (#24), the voters appear to have left the box behind entirely and pulled
one out of left field. While definitely a love story, to rank this
one-sided, gorilla-loves-constantly-screaming-Fay-Wray romance in the top 25
seems downright bizarre.
Lastly, a few more no-shows which would have made my list: GOODBYE, MR. CHIPS
(1939), WATERLOO BRIDGE (1940), HOW GREEN WAS
MY VALLEY (1941), PENNY SERENADE (1941),
THE PRIDE OF THE YANKEES (1942),
THE VALLEY OF DECISION (1945),
THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES (1946), ROBIN AND MARIAN (1976), and (outside
the box) NATIONAL VELVET (1944), THE YEARLING (1946) and HEAVEN KNOWS, MR.
ALLISON (1957). Of these eleven films, only three (GOODBYE, MR. CHIPS, WATERLOO
BRIDGE and ROBIN AND MARIAN) even made the AFI's list of the 400 nominated films
from which the voters were asked to chose their top 100, which to me
demonstrates the power of suggestion. Other romantic films the AFI neglected to
nominate which might otherwise have made the list include A TALE OF TWO CITIES
(1935), YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE
(1937), OUR TOWN (1940), PEOPLE WILL TALK (1951), INVITATION (1952), THE LONG
GRAY LINE (1955), GIANT (1956), MIRACLE IN THE RAIN (1956), THE RAINMAKER
(1956), SEPARATE TABLES (1958) and EL CID (1961). Failure to include the
majority of these films as nominees was a major oversight on the part of the AFI,
which I can't help but attribute to a propensity toward flattering the egos of
filmmakers and stars who are still living (and thus, still potential AFI
patrons) as well as a desire to line the pockets of the film industry by
choosing movies that are more widely available on video and DVD over
less-publicized greats. Cynical of me? Yes. Calculating and political of them?
Yes. But remember, there is a motive and a method to the madness of these lists
which we the audience are not meant to understand or contemplate beyond our
ability to count to 100.
© 2002 Reel Classics, L.L.C.
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