Review of Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961) by Spangle — 28 Mar 2017

I confess that my recent viewing of William Wyler's heist comedy How to Steal a Million was the first time I had seen Audrey Hepburn in a starring role. Before that, just her bit cameo in Steven Spielberg's Always had crossed my path and that came just mere weeks before the other occasion. In essence, I am just beginning in my understanding of Hepburn as an actress and perhaps no film captures everything she was in her roles than Breakfast at Tiffany's. Yet, before I get into reviewing it, I feel the need to share. Perhaps I am a bit grim in my own personal life. Death and its inevitability is, naturally, a mainstay in my mind. This has very little to do with Breakfast at Tiffany's on the surface, though I will later try to tie it back in out of my simple need to keep on task in these reviews. For me, death was always something to be feared, though it was focused inward. My own demise, as a young child, kept me up at nights. I can remember lying in bed, paralyzed by the thought that one day, I will die. This, as it often does, turned itself into two things. One, the burning desire to be remembered. When I was younger, the mark of being remembered is to somehow have a Wikipedia page. That way, in 100 years, some stupid kid can hit "random page" and my page will pop up and they will read about how banal my life actually turned out to be. While this may be a bit simplistic, it is the truth nonetheless. Second, fear of death of those I love. Whether it be my mother or my dog, the inevitability of their deaths and my resultant mourning often leaves me on the brink of tears. With my dog, now 15, having an infection under the skin around his salivary glands and being forced into a cone of shame as we wait for the swelling to go down, the light is most certainly appearing at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps not soon, as otherwise, he is incredibly healthy for a dog his age with little-to-no gray hair and enough energy to outpace many young pups. My mother, likewise, has been quite healthy aside from aches and pains. Both are a blessing and will be missed with all of my heart.

However, both have allowed me to realize something bigger. Just as Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain showed me that death is not to be feared, but to be embraced. The mortality of those that I love has shown me that my desire to be remembered does not need to wind up in something juvenile or asinine such as a Wikipedia. To be truly remembered is to remain in the hearts and minds of those that you love. Beyond those that you love, nobody else really matters and whether or not they are aware of your existence is simply not important. As for becoming remembered or finding those that you love, you can merely go about your day-to-day life and live it as you wish. Doing as you wish rather than what others think is right for you or expect you to do is the only way to secure happiness, which is always the key to unlocking the doors awaiting ahead.

Now, what does this have to do with Hepburn and Breakfast at Tiffany's? I am getting to that shortly. But, as many know, Hepburn died of cancer in 1993. In order for her to spend a final Christmas with family, Givenchy flew her out on a private plane - which was filled with flowers - to Switzerland. For some reason, this gesture - though I had read about it before - really struck a chord with me tonight. For Hepburn, she is clearly an idol. Women today still adore her and I have known female friends who have gone as her for Halloween with a black dress and gloves, akin to her famous outfit in this film. Yet, though an icon for women's fashion to this very day and a figure that will last on in Hollywood until the end of time, her final weeks and days were spent with those that she loved. Those that were dear to her gathered around and did anything they could to bring her a last little bit of joy as they spent time together to say goodbye. No matter how loved we are, at the end, only those we love really matter and should matter once we are gone. As long as we remain in their hearts and minds, it was a life worth living.

In her most famous role as Holly Golightly, Hepburn defines her persona as people will see her for as long as she is remembered. From her iconic dresses, cigarette holder, or hairstyle, every inch of her performance has been turned into a style or fashion icon. Bubbly and boisterous, Holly is like many girls I have known. Though they may appear dumb and shallow on the outside for their love of jewels, fancy dresses, or appearances, there is no doubt something on the inside. The rest is merely a facade to hide up something on the inside that hurts them or they do not like. Hepburn's Holly really captures this inner damage as she rejects men she cares for in order to go after rich men who she does not care about. To tie it in to the earlier discussion about death, she was afraid of losing people. To love is to let people in and to open yourself up to emotional turmoil when they leave.