The other night I arrived at a restaurant about 45 minutes before my dinner companions, which led to an unusually gratifying wait. Above the bar was perched a mega-size high-definition television, but the sound was off and only gentle jazz issued from the speakers in the ceiling. As my shiraz arrived, William Wyler’s 1953 classic Roman Holiday began on the screen.
Perhaps film schools make students watch great sound-era films without sound. If not, they should, it’s a fascinating exercise. The lack of sound highlights the myriad ways that mega-watt stars can convey emotion, tone and character, while drawing the viewer in.
Gregory Peck, the tall dark man of action and romance, turns out to have a tremendous gift for comedy. In the silent version, his jaunty walk, the way he talks rapidly out of the side of his mouth, his gimlet-eyed stares and dancing eyebrows create an explosion of mirth. The fellow a few seats down at the bar, as entranced by the silent spectacle as I, kept bursting into laughter while watching Peck’s silent magic, and I couldn’t stop joining in (not that I tried).
And then of course the viewer meets Audrey Hepburn. It is hard to imagine now given her iconic status, but no one knew who she was when Roman Holiday was released. Yet within a minute, millions of Americans were rooting for her to find that shoe. She doesn’t need words to convey vulnerability and to elicit from the viewer adoration and a desire to protect. As former Stanford University President Gerhard Casper once said “Falling in love with Audrey Hepburn is an essential, civilizing experience for all human beings”
Finding pearls such as this is why I’m a long-time reader. Thank you.
Peck’s contract gave him solo star billing, with newcomer Hepburn listed much less prominently in the credits. Halfway through the filming, Peck suggested to Wyler that he elevate her to equal billing — an almost unheard-of gesture in Hollywood. Roman Holiday
Come on, Keith, I’m sorry but this is just silly “You kids get off my lawn-ism”.
Do you really think there are no great comedy actors working today? That there are no beautiful actresses? That modern movies convey nothing without sound? (Hint, on any modern plane you get ample opportunity to see snippets of a variety of movies sans sound on the screens of those around you.)
To give just one example (and I choose it specifically because it will be controversial) _Fifty First Dates_. Yes the first fifteen minutes are awful, and yes the ongoing presence of Rob Schneider is unfortunate, but I would argue that is as great and touching a love story as anything that went before it. It’s a whole lot easier to have a heroic love story when there are well-defined villains (Communists or Nazis or whatever) keeping our hero and heroine apart than when what keeps them apart is simply a bizarre and incurable disease of memory.
Maynard, nowhere in the piece does Keith say that 2011 is not part of the sound era, or that great films are not being made today. Might I suggest that you are energetically postulating a fictitious lawn for the purpose of attributing to Keith a non-existent screed?
Do you really think there are no great comedy actors working today? That there are no beautiful actresses? That modern movies convey nothing without sound?
Huh? Where did all that come from? You seem to be attributing all kinds of imaginary content to Keith’s post.
You see someone writing a post about a 1950s-era film, and automatically leap to the conclusion that they must dislike the current cinema?
“Might I suggest that you are energetically postulating a fictitious lawn for the purpose of attributing to Keith a non-existent screed?” Well said.