Author Paul Varjak (George Peppard) stumbles into the life of flamboyant escort Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn). Though kept by a wealthy, married woman (Patricia Neal), he falls for Holly and tries to win her affections. But Holly, who is intoxicating to all, is scared of anything that might tie her down, and spends her time searching for a rich sugar daddy, though what she needs is something to make life feel worthwhile, something metaphorically like Tiffany’s.
Audrey Hepburn is Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She dominates every scene she’s in, and the few she isn’t in only work due to anticipation of her return. And she’s amazing. I can’t look away from her. There’s many other aspects of the film that are top notch: the script—filled with witty neo-realistic dialog, the score by Henry Mancini, the cinematography, the art direction which is a love-letter to New York City, smart editing, and excellent supporting performances by Buddy Ebsen, Martin Balsam, and Patricia Neal, but it’s all about Hepburn. The image of her in that Givenchy black dress and long gloves is iconic.
Hepburn made Holly Golightly. Truman Capote created the character for his novel, but his version was a rough, crass woman, whose charm was always a fake. Hepburn’s Holly was still deeply troubled, but her elegance, while learned, were part of her. She wasn’t pretending to be alluring and glamorous; that was now her nature. She’s foolish and sometimes cruel, but bewitching. Partly that’s because that fit Hepburn, but more because it is what Hepburn wanted. Producers Martin Jurow & Richard Shepherd, screenwriter George Axelrod, and later director Blake Edwards shaped Holly to Hepburn, and then she did the rest. The result is one of the great screen characters. Some (particularly Capote) complain that they changed the ending from the novel, but they had to. The novel’s ending was built around the novel’s Holly, and the film’s Holly was a very different creature, with a very different fate.
I often see Breakfast at Tiffany’s labeled a romantic comedy, which it isn’t. It’s only partially a romance, and while it has comedic moments, it’s not a comedy. I can’t think of another film where the word “bittersweet” fits better. Our portal character may be Paul, but the film isn’t about him. It’s a drama about a girl finding a direction.
George Peppard’s performance has been criticized as bland, but I don’t see that as a flaw. Paul has to be plain and earthly, as a counter weight to the fireworks that is Holly. Peppard pushed to tone down the character’s vulnerability, making him more of a he-man (a kept he-man) and in doing so, also reduced his own appeal. No doubt his intention wasn’t to shine even more of a light on Hepburn/Holly, but that’s what he did, and it works.
But there is one flaw with the film, the horrible Asian stereotype played in yellow-face by Mickey Rooney (Edwards said he’d give anything to be able to recast the role). Besides being racist, the character doesn’t fit the rest of the film, doing slapstick pratfalls, and is never funny. It isn’t a fatal flaw mainly because of how little he’s in the film—only a few minutes. An easy edit could remove 90% of him without effecting anything (and should be done). A clever one could eliminate him altogether.
Ignoring Rooney (and I do my best to), Breakfast At Tiffany’s is a masterpiece. It’s emotional, thoughtful, and gorgeous, and elevated Hepburn from a good leading lady to one of cinema’s greatest stars.