#549) Think of Me First as a Person (1960-1975)

#549) Think of Me First as a Person (1960-1975)

Directed by George Ingmire

Written by Dwight Core Sr.

Class of 2006

Trailer 

This is another tough one to track down, but “Think of Me First as a Person” is available for purchase on George Ingmire’s Vimeo page.

The Plot: The NFR’s love for well-crafted home movies by amateur filmmakers continues with the touching “Think of Me First as a Person”. Filmed throughout the 1960s and ’70s, Dwight Core Sr. tells us about his son Dwight Core Jr. (nicknamed “Dee”), who was born with Down syndrome. Using his own words, as well as an essay written by Dee’s sister Carolyn, Dwight Sr. wants you to see past Dee’s disability, and think of him first as a person.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film “a loving portrait” that “represents the creativity and craftsmanship of the American amateur filmmaker”.

But Does It Really?: I’m genuinely surprised we’ve gone this long on the NFR without a movie about the developmentally disabled. Given my own personal experience with a developmentally disabled family member, I know the world the Core’s live in, and I appreciate how Dwight (with assistance from George) has chosen to tell his personal story. “Think of Me” strikes the right tone with its delicate subject matter: It’s never too sentimental or manipulative, just a plain-spoken man asking for a kinder world for his child. Although I question this film’s NFR eligibility on a technicality (more on that later), I absolutely recommend “Think of Me First as a Person” for viewing and future preservation.

Everybody Gets One: Most of my information regarding George Ingmire comes from an essay he wrote about this film for the Center for Home Movies. “Think of Me First as a Person” came to be when Ingmire was approached by fellow future NFR filmmaker Helen Hill about the CHM’s annual Home Movie Day screening in New Orleans. Ingmire recalled a collection of home movies from his recently deceased grandfather Dwight Core Sr., and recommended one of them be screened. Among his grandfather’s home movies, Ingmire found Dwight Sr.’s rough cut of “Think of Me First as a Person”, as well as his recorded narration and notes. Ingmire then went about digitizing the material and completed his grandfather’s film.

Wow, That’s Dated: Of course, treatment and services for people with developmental disabilities have come a long way since the 1960s, particularly for those with Down syndrome. Easily the film’s most dated quality is the use of the term “mentally retarded”, which is used here in its proper (if antiquated) medical context.

Title Track: The title comes from the Rita Dranginis poem of the same name, also from the perspective of a developmentally disabled person. “Think of me first as a person/who hurts and loves and feels joy”.

Other notes 

  • As much as I endorse having “Think of Me” on the NFR, I have to ask if it was inducted too soon. Yes, the footage used in “Think of Me” was filmed in the ’60s and ’70s, therefore surpassing the 10 year eligibility for any film in the NFR, but the final film wasn’t completed until 2006, the same year of its NFR induction. It shouldn’t have made the cut until 2016 at the earliest. I’d be curious to hear more about how the NFR justified this decision.
  • Unsurprising given George Ingmire’s background in sound production, the silent home movies now include an appropriate (and unintrusive) soundtrack. Dwight Sr.’s footage is now underscored by corresponding sound effects (the squeaking of the backyard swing, the laughter of children at play, etc.).
  • As previously mentioned, this movie is not an attempt to elicit false sympathy for Dee and his family. Dwight Sr. focuses on Dee’s strengths (his energetic curiosity and love for dancing) rather than the detriments caused by Down syndrome. This also comes across in Dee’s sister Carolyn’s essay, interestingly titled “My Favorite Child”.
  • Dee spent most of his childhood at the Lynchburg Training School in Lynchburg, Virginia. Originally designed to treat those with epilepsy, Lynchburg underwent several changes throughout the decades, before becoming a home for the developmentally disabled in the 1950s. In 2012, the Department of Justice determined that these larger institutional training centers did more harm than help, and the renamed Central Virginia Training Center closed permanently in 2020.
  • During my viewing I realized that, unless I’m missing something, “Think of Me” is the only film on the NFR to discuss a developmental disability at length (I’m excluding titles such as “Forrest Gump” and “Being There“, where although the lead character obviously has some sort of developmental disability, it is not the focus of the film). When considering similar titles for NFR consideration all I could think of was “Rain Man” and all the Oscar-bait crap we got in its wake. And we have another eight years before we can add “The Peanut Butter Falcon” to the conversation.

Legacy 

  • “Think of Me First as a Person” premiered at the Zeitgeist Multidisciplinary Arts Center in New Orleans in August 2006. Center for Home Movies co-founder Dwight Swanson was in attendance, and coincidentally was a member of the National Film Preservation Board at the time. Swanson led the campaign that would ultimately get “Think of Me” on the National Film Registry a few months later. The version I watched was a 2008 restoration that includes the film’s NFR designation in the end credits.
  • According to George Ingmire, Dwight “Dee” Core Jr. enjoyed being the subject of a movie, and after the release of “Think of Me”, he always carried a sharpie with him in case someone wanted his autograph. Dwight Core Jr. died in 2008 at age 48.
  • George Ingmire has spent the last 20 years as a producer and sound mixer, among many other things. He is the host of two radio programs for WWOZ in New Orleans, and is currently working on podcasts and videos regarding COVID-19. You can learn more about him at his official website.

#548) Jeffries-Johnson World’s Championship Boxing Contest (1910)

#548) Jeffries-Johnson World’s Championship Boxing Contest (1910)

OR “The Great White Nope”

Class of 2005

NOTE: While the actual Johnson-Jeffries fight itself was 100 minutes long, I have yet to find a complete recording of the fight online, or any information that one even exists. The longest version I could find is the 27 minute video embedded below.

The Plot: Boxing got its first “Fight of the Century” on July 4th, 1910 in Reno, Nevada, when James J. Jeffries came out of retirement to battle Jack Johnson. Throughout the 1900s (when boxing was predominantly played by and for White people), African-American Jack Johnson had been building his reputation as a champion boxer, and although he was named World Colored Heavyweight Champion in 1908, he wanted to claim the title from White champion James J. Jeffries. After several active White boxers were defeated by Johnson, Jeffries was finally coaxed into the fight, with the press calling him “The Great White Hope” that would keep boxing segregated. 20,000 people showed up to watch the match, the racial tension rising with the summer heat. As the surviving footage shows us, the fight was one-sided from the start, and Johnson soundly defeated Jeffries in 15 rounds, simultaneously cementing his legacy and breaking an important racial barrier.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the fight “[a] signal moment in American race relations” and claims the film was “the most widely discussed and written-about motion picture made before 1915’s ‘The Birth of a Nation‘.” You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?

But Does It Really?: Like so many of these early NFR entries, “The Johnson-Jeffries Fight” is on the list for the event it is covering rather than anything noteworthy about the film itself. Jack Johnson is an important figure in African-American history, and this fight was the apex of his career, to say nothing of its historical importance to race relations in this country. I’m glad that the film survives and has found its inevitable place in the NFR.

Nobody Gets One: An NFR rarity: I don’t know who filmed this. There’s lots of talk about this footage’s controversial distribution (more on that later), and while a few names are bandied about, I cannot find one reliable source that can confirm the production company behind the Johnson-Jeffries footage or the person or people who filmed it. You’d think everyone would be tripping over each other for this credit.

Wow, That’s Dated: In 1910, boxing was still a controversial sport in America, and Nevada was one of the few states in which boxing was legal. Also this was back when boxing matches went a maximum of 15 rounds rather than 12.

Other notes 

  • When “Johnson-Jeffries” showed up on my watchlist, my first thought was, “Didn’t I already watch this for the blog?” Turns out I was thinking of the “Corbett-Fitzsimmons” fight from 1897. Where “Johnson-Jeffries” is more historically significant, “Corbett-Fitzsimmons” is on the NFR for more aesthetic/technical reasons, which I allude to in that post.
  • As expected, the footage of the fight is silent, and I provided my own soundtrack by hitting random on my Spotify “Liked Songs” list. I don’t think Jeffries ever dreamed of getting his butt kicked to the work of Cake, Norah Jones, Cat Stevens, or Neil Diamond. And yes, in hindsight I should have gone with that guy who sings “Flake“. What’s his name?
  • The first third of the footage is all the pomp and circumstance leading up to the fight: the boxers entering the ring, etc. Perhaps watching the shorter versions is the way to go. Just fight already!
  • Maybe I just don’t get boxing. Half of it is two men circling each other, and the other half is them awkwardly holding each other like it’s a middle school dance. You get maybe three minutes of excitement interspersed over two otherwise-boring hours. It’s like watching baseball or “The Shining“.
  • When did boxing move indoors?
  • Round 15 finally brings us some real action when Johnson punches Jeffries and gets him on the rope, the first knockdown of Jeffries’ career. To prevent Jeffries from getting his first ever KO loss, Jeffries’ manager threw in the towel, giving Johnson a win by technical knock out.

Legacy 

  • Jack Johnson may have won the fight, but he lost the war. For starters, a series of riots occurred throughout the United States in response to Johnson’s victory, the first nationwide race riot in America. As a result, various states chose to ban public screenings of the fight footage. A nationwide ban on distributing boxing footage across state lines was implemented in 1912, and stayed in effect until 1940.
  • James Jeffries returned to retirement after his bout with Johnson, although he spoke highly of his opponent in later years. “I could never have whipped Johnson at my best…I couldn’t have reached him in 1,000 years.”
  • Two years after his fight with Jeffries, Johnson was arrested for bringing a White woman (his girlfriend Lucille) over state lines “for immoral purposes”. An all-White jury found him guilty, and Johnson fled the country rather than serve jail time. He returned in 1920 and served 10 months in Leavenworth. Johnson continued boxing (even during his international exile), and lost his heavyweight champion title to Jess Willard in 1915. Johnson died in 1946 at age 68 following injuries sustained from a car crash.
  • Jack Johnson is still a noteworthy figure in African-American and sports history, with such boxing legends as Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson singing his praises. Posthumous tributes and honors for Johnson include a Ken Burns documentary, the play (and subsequent movie) “The Great White Hope” starring James Earl Jones and Jane Alexander, and an official pardon in 2018 from…whoever was president then.

#547) Jailhouse Rock (1957)

#547) Jailhouse Rock (1957)

OR “King in the Clink”

Directed by Richard Thorpe

Written by Guy Trosper. Story by Ned Young. Songs by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller.

Class of 2004

The Plot: Blue collar Vince Everett (Elvis Presley) is sentenced to prison for involuntary manslaughter after beating a man to death at a bar. While in jail, Vince’s cellmate/former country singer Hunk Houghton (Mickey Shaughnessy) recognizes Vince’s musical potential and convinces him to pursue a singing career once he’s released. A year later, Vince is on the outside, struggling to become a recording star; but with help from promoter Peggy Van Alden (Judy Tyler), creates his own label and releases a hit single. More records and a movie deal come to Vince, but will all this success go to his head?

Why It Matters: The NFR praises the film’s “edginess”, and calls the title dance number “both ridiculous and infectious”. An essay by film critic Carrie Rickey admits that “Jailhouse” isn’t a great movie, but “remains the most eloquent record” of Elvis and ’50s teenage mania.

But Does It Really?: This is another missed opportunity from the NFR. Sure, there should be an Elvis movie on a list of significant American films, but why this one? Yes, the “Jailhouse Rock” number is arguably the King’s most iconic movie moment, but the rest of the movie is such a drag. Where’s “Blue Hawaii” or “Viva Las Vegas”? If “Jailhouse Rock” could be partially preserved with just the title number, I’d agree to this choice for the NFR. As it currently stands, however, this is not the best Elvis representation.

Everybody Gets One: Born in 1935, Elvis Aaron Presley (yes, that’s his real name) seemed to develop his musical talents early, despite his inherent shyness about performing. A recording session with Sun Records (see “Listen to This”) led to radio and live performances. His first single with RCA – “Heartbreak Hotel” – was an instant hit in 1956, and quickly made Presley the face of the booming rock and roll movement. By year’s end, Elvis made his film debut with a supporting role in “Love Me Tender” (a film whose title was changed to capitalize on another Elvis hit). “Jailhouse Rock” was Elvis’ third movie in less than a year, and his second starring role.

Title Track: This movie was originally titled “The Hard Way”, and then later “Jailhouse Kid”. Songwriters Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller procrastinated on writing the score until one month before shooting began, and in one day cranked out four songs, including “Jailhouse Rock”. The song was released as a single six weeks before the film premiered.

Other notes 

  • It was Kathryn Hereford who suggested to her husband, MGM producer Pandro S. Berman, that he should make a movie with Elvis to cash in on his popularity. It was the first movie under Berman’s company Avon Productions, though Berman spent most of the “Jailhouse” production preoccupied with another movie: “The Brothers Karamazov”.
  • Known primarily for costume dramas, Richard Thorpe was an MGM mainstay known for his quick productions (he typically printed the first take). “Jailhouse” aside, Thorpe is best remembered for the NFR movie he didn’t direct. Thorpe helmed the first two weeks of “The Wizard of Oz“, but was replaced when the producers felt his footage lacked a certain fantasy quality.
  • Elvis’ infamous manager Colonel Tom Parker is listed in the credits as a “Technical Advisor”.
  • I wasn’t expecting Elvis’ acting chops to be on par with Olivier, but on the whole he’s…almost good. It always stuns me when someone who is so charismatic and energetic in their musical performances can be so stale and uninteresting when handling basic dialogue.
  • I’ll go ahead and assume prison isn’t nearly as fun as this movie makes it out to be. Also, is this the same prison where Johnny Cash was sent to after shooting that man in Reno?
  • A big “screw you” to the audience: the first song in the movie isn’t sung by Elvis/Vince, but rather by his cellmate Hunk.
  • I feel like becoming a hit musician would be a lot easier today. No need to get a record deal; just go viral and let the deals come to you.
  • Ooh, Elvis said “Hell”. How did this movie maintain a G rating? This is followed by Vince forcing himself onto Peggy, claiming “it’s just the beast in me”. Wouldn’t someone who hates “women-beaters” also be anti-assault?
  • Vince is upset because someone became more famous by covering one of his songs? Not so fun on this side, is it Elvis?
  • Making their sole NFR appearance is Dean Jones, seen here as a local DJ/friend of Peggy’s, still about a decade away from his run of Disney comedies such as “The Love Bug” and “That Darn Cat!”.
  • To ease Elvis into production, the “Jailhouse Rock” number was the first scene filmed for the movie. The original choreography by Alex Romero left Presley unimpressed, so Romero watched Elvis dance and based the new routine on his improvised moves. It’s definitely the movie’s highlight, but that’s not saying much.
  • If nothing else, the “Jailhouse Rock” number shows “Elvis the Pelvis” at work. Tame by today’s standards, but I see why ’50s America was up in arms. He could put an eye out with that thing.
  • My favorite random shout-out: When Vince and his new leading lady Sherry go out to be seen, Vince takes her to Knott’s Berry Farm! I legitimately laughed out loud.
  • What even is this movie? I get that Vince is supposed to start out as a jerk whose experience in show business helps him become a better person. Unfortunately, Elvis isn’t a good enough actor to make these shifts, and we’re left connecting the dots on our own. I went into “Jailhouse Rock” figuring this would be an easy, fun write-up, but instead it was a simultaneously frustrating and boring viewing experience.

Legacy 

  • Both the movie and song of “Jailhouse Rock” were hits with audiences, but were both unfortunately overshadowed by a real-life tragedy. Shortly after production wrapped, Judy Tyler and her husband were killed in a car accident near Rock River, Wyoming. They were both 24. Elvis was so shaken by this, out of respect for Tyler he did not attend the film’s premiere (and allegedly never saw the final film).
  • After “Jailhouse”, Elvis would make another 28 movies over the course of 12 years! Elvis was so focused on his films and records that he stopped doing live performances in 1961. Unhappy with most of his movies (and the lack of offers for more dramatic work), Elvis left Hollywood when his various contracts expired, and returned to live shows with his famous 1968 comeback special. Presley continued his reign as the king of rock and roll until his tragic death in 1977 at age 42.
  • This is your reminder that indie film/TV star Riley Keough is Elvis’ eldest granddaughter. She’s Lisa Marie’s daughter with her first husband Danny Keough.

Listen to This: Elvis’ first professional recordings for Sun Studios in 1954 were part of the National Recording Registry’s inaugural class of 2002. The NRR write-up includes an essay by guest writer James L. Dickerson. Also on the NRR are two songs made famous by Elvis, but preserved here with their original artists: Carl Perkins’ “Blue Suede Shoes” and Big Mama Thornton’s “Hound Dog”.

#546) Antonia: A Portrait of the Woman (1974)

#546) Antonia: A Portrait of the Woman (1974)

Directed by Judy Collins & Jill Godmilow

Class of 2003 

The Plot: As the title suggests, “Antonia” is a portrait of Antonia Brico, a trailblazer for women in the classical symphony scene. In the 1930s, Brico became the first woman to conduct both the Berlin and Los Angeles Philharmonic, and later founded the first all female symphony orchestra in New York. Despite her rising star, Brico found the constant sexism within the community tiring, and by the late 1940s settled in Denver, teaching piano and conducting semi-professional local orchestras. Now in her ’70s, Antonia Brico recounts her life and accomplishments, as well as the occasional reignition of her dreams for worldwide acclaim.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is mostly a run-down of Brico and the film, though they do highlight Brico’s “ebullient, forthright warmth” in the face of her many obstacles.

But Does It Really?: Every so often with this blog, the routine of cranking out these posts leads to fatigue. Thankfully, there’s always a movie that comes along to energize me and remind me why I’m doing this blog in the first place, and “Antonia” is one such movie. In less than an hour, I was introduced to Antonia Brico and felt like I had learned her life story on an intimate level. Obviously, Ms. Brico’s accomplishments speak for themselves, but the film shows us the person behind these achievements, and the lasting effect these (sometimes missed) opportunities had on her. “Antonia” is a tribute to an unsung artist who finally got her moment in the sun, and the film is worthy of NFR preservation.

Everybody Gets One: Upon seeing the name Judy Collins in the credits, my first thought was, “Like the folk singer?”. Turns out, it IS the folk singer. Before becoming the singer who brought us “Both Sides Now“, Judy Collins grew up in Denver, and as a child was taught piano by Antonia Brico. Collins eventually gave up the piano at age 16, much to Brico’s dismay (even after Collins became famous, Brico bemoaned “you really could have gone places”). In the early ’70s, Collins was invited by Ms. magazine to interview a female role model, and Collins chose Antonia Brico. Collins decided to film the interview, and hired Jill Godmilow after seeing her documentary “Tales”. After four days of interviewing and filming, both Collins and Godmilow were pleased with the results and agreed to expand this interview into a documentary short, and eventually a feature.

Wow, That’s Dated: Mainly the long-gone era when Americans actually cared about the symphony.

Seriously, Oscars?: After premiering at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, “Antonia” played the festival circuit, as well as a successful run in select cities (including Denver). “Antonia” received an Oscar nomination for Best Documentary, losing to fellow NFR entry “Hearts and Minds“.

Other notes 

  • A few other notes about Antonia Brico. Born in the Netherlands, Brico was adopted and at age six relocated to Oakland, California. Her foster mother made Antonia take piano to prevent her from biting her nails, and the child found solace in music. After studying at the Berlin State Academy of Music, Brico made her conducting debut in 1930 with the Berlin Philharmonic, which led to her work with orchestras throughout Europe and the United States. Work became more sporadic as the 1930s gave way to the ’40s, primarily from the aforementioned sexism (her time with the New York Metropolitan Opera ended when lead baritone John Charles Thomas refused to be conducted by a woman).
  • A reminder that Denver, Colorado is a lovely city. I’ve only been there once, but it was a wonderful experience, and one of this native Californian’s rare encounters with accumulated snow.
  • If there’s one thing that will endear me to your movie, it’s rehearsal footage. I love watching creative people putting in the work to make their art, and watching Antonio Brico collaborating with her orchestra is fascinating.
  • Shoutout to Coulter Watt, the film’s cinematographer and Jill Godmilow’s then-boyfriend.
  • Among Brico’s words that really resonated with me was her belief that “my instrument is the orchestra”. It’s declarations like this that make Brico’s passion for music really shine through. To paraphrase Madeline Kahn, she wants to “be the music”.
  • My other favorite Antonia line is when she refers to Judy Collins as “disgustingly young”.
  • I will admit that I wouldn’t necessarily recognize Judy Collins on sight, so it makes a lot more sense why she is featured more prominently in the interviews than Jill Godmilow is.
  • Among Brico’s controversies was her public feud with pianist José Iturbi, who believed women were inherently less talented than men. There was even talk of a “Battle of the Sexes” style showdown between the two using kettle drums. It never happened, but the film uses animation to fantasize how that would have gone down.
  • I’m calling it right now: Frances McDormand will one day play Antonia Brico in a movie. They look just enough alike that it could work.
  • One of the film’s final moments is Antonia lightening the mood in her house by playing some jazz and ragtime on the piano. Turns out Brico played more modern music in her early days to make ends meet.

Legacy 

  • Following the success of this film, Antonia Brico saw renewed interest in her career, leading to invitations to conduct the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Brooklyn Philharmonia. Brico died in 1989 at the age of 87.
  • There’s been slow progress in female conductors, but there are now about 50 or so women actively conducting around the world. In 2020 we finally got our first female conductor at the Oscars (Eímear Noone), but she only got to conduct the Best Score nominees. You brought her all the way out from Ireland, just let her run the whole damn show!
  • Although “Antonia” was the extent of her filmmaking career, Judy Collins is still active in the music industry, with a career that has garnered her a Grammy, four Gold records, and two Platinum records. Plus, she’s the reason “Send in the Clowns” went from “unhummable” Sondheim to oft-covered standard.
  • Jill Godmilow is still making films, her most recent is 2017’s “SCUM Manifesto”. Godmilow is also an Emeritus Professor of film and theater at the University of Notre Dame.

Listen to This: It’s not too often someone has a movie they directed on the NFR and a song they recorded on the National Recording Registry. Judy Collins’ 1970 rendition of “Amazing Grace” made the NRR in 2017. The official write-up includes an essay by Cary O’Dell, and an interview with Collins.

#545) Sabrina (1954)

#545) Sabrina (1954)

OR “The Michael Douglas Scale: The Motion Picture”

Directed by Billy Wilder

Written by Wilder & Samuel Taylor & Ernest Lehman. Based on the play “Sabrina Fair” by Taylor.

Class of 2002 

The Plot: Sabrina Fairchild (Audrey Hepburn) is the daughter of a chauffeur (John Williams, not that one) for the upper-class Larrabee family of Long Island. Sabrina has had a crush on younger brother David Larrabee (William Holden) since childhood, but David is oblivious to her feelings. After a suicide attempt, Sabrina is sent to Paris by her father to study at Le Cordon Bleu. Two years later, Sabrina returns to Long Island a cultured, sophisticated beauty, catching the eye of a now-engaged David. To prevent David from ruining his engagement (and therefore an important business merger), older brother Linus (Humphrey Bogart) pretends to be interested in Sabrina to get her away from David. But of course, fake feelings turn into real feelings, as so often happens in rom-coms like these. Who will Sabrina end up with? And how old is everyone exactly?

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is primarily a plot synopsis, followed by the assessment “Not one of Wilder’s most hilarious or thought-provoking, but still charming and entertaining”.

But Does It Really?: Yeah, I’m with the NFR on this one. There’s nothing inherently wrong with “Sabrina”, but it does pale in comparison to Wilder’s other classics. The three leads are all charming and funny, but I couldn’t get over the massive age gaps between everyone. Ultimately, “Sabrina” is a minor classic: iconic enough for eventual NFR inclusion, but not tops on anyone’s list.

Shout Outs: Linus calls David “Scarface“, one of two Wilder movies to reference that gangster film.

Wow, That’s Dated: Among the bits of early ’50s culture referenced throughout “Sabrina” are Mickey Spillaine, Adlai Stevenson, the Kon-Tiki expedition, and the play “The Seven Year Itch”; soon to be a major motion picture.

Title Track: While the film maintained the play’s title “Sabrina Fair” in its international release, the US version was shortened to “Sabrina” in order to avoid confusion with “highbrow stories” like “Vanity Fair“.

Seriously, Oscars?: Although “Sabrina” missed out on a Best Picture Oscar nomination, the film’s six nominations included Best Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Actress for Hepburn. “Sabrina” lost five of these nods to “On the Waterfront” and “The Country Girl”, but Edith Head took home her 6th Oscar for Costume Design.

Other notes 

  • The idea to adapt the play “Sabrina Fair” to the movies was either Billy Wilder’s or Audrey Hepburn’s. Either way, it was going to be a vehicle for Audrey from the start. Playwright Samuel Taylor was hired to co-write with Wilder, but quit after Wilder’s extensive rewriting, and Ernest Lehman was brought in as a replacement. Due to scheduling issues with William Holden, production was moved up, and the film began shooting without a finished script. Lehman would find himself occasionally writing scenes in the morning that would be filmed that afternoon.
  • Alright, let’s get this out of the way: there is quite an age gap in this movie’s love triangle. During production in 1953, Humphrey Bogart was 53, William Holden was 35, and Audrey Hepburn was 24. We know that the character of Sabrina is 22 years old when she returns from Paris, but we’re never told how old the Larrabee brothers are supposed to be. It really overshadowed my overall viewing experience.
  • This is another one of my “sixth sense” movies, where I can divine a movie’s behind-the-scenes struggles without knowing about them beforehand. In addition to the film’s truncated shooting schedule, Bogart apparently did not get along with his director or co-stars (he was aware that he was only cast as Linus when Cary Grant turned it down). In addition, Holden and Hepburn had a brief affair during filming, and Ernest Lehman suffered a breakdown from all the re-writes.
  • Audrey Hepburn is being ignored by every man in sight? This must be fantasy.
  • It was during Sabrina’s suicide attempt that I realized just how many Wilder movies feature suicide attempts as a minor plot point. Are you okay, Billy?
  • Much of the supporting cast is comprised of future TV stars. Linus’ secretary Miss McCardle is played by Ellen Corby, aka Grandma Walton. Both Nancy Kulp and Raymond Bailey make uncredited appearances here a decade before their teaming on “The Beverly Hillbillies”. And blink and you’ll miss Marion Ross (Mrs. Cunningham on “Happy Days”) as one of Elizabeth’s friends at a party.
  • Age issues aside, it’s fun to watch Bogie and Holden play against type. Bogart trades in his stoic lowlifes for a straight-laced businessman, while Holden takes a break from his cynical dramatic leads to play a more light-hearted cad.
  • Sabrina doesn’t look too different after two years in Paris, besides her haircut and wardrobe. Side note: Most of Hepburn’s dresses were designed by Hubert de Givenchy, but were actually made by Edith Head and the Paramount costume department. Because Givenchy went uncredited for his designs, Edith Head received the Oscar for Costume Design.
  • Once again, you are all so lucky that Audrey Hepburn is so charming. Her natural star power really smooths over this movie’s major problems.
  • There are times when Bogart sounds like Edward G. Robinson. Even he doesn’t remember which gangster he was. And while I’m still grossed out by the Linus/Sabrina shipping, if anyone could successfully charm a significantly younger woman, it’s Bogart.
  • “Suppose I was ten years younger and you weren’t in love with David.” Nope, still gross.
  • As you can probably guess by now, I don’t have a lot to say about “Sabrina”. It’s pleasant, but there was definitely a barrier between me and this movie. I found myself biding my time until this film’s inevitable happy ending, which is…sweet?

Legacy

  • “Sabrina” marked the end of Billy Wilder’s 12 year contract with Paramount Pictures. Wilder’s next movie would be with 20th Century Fox: the aforementioned “Seven Year Itch”.
  • This film was the first collaboration between Audrey Hepburn and Hubert de Givenchy, who would go on to design Hepburn’s iconic wardrobe in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s“.
  • “Sabrina” has had a few remakes over the years, most notably an American remake in 1995 by Sydney Pollack. Despite a cast led by Harrison Ford and Julia Ormond, a score by that John Williams, and some good notices from critics, “Sabrina” never rose above the inevitable comparisons to its predecessor.