Revisiting ... The Graduate

Late last year, I told my cousin Mary that I wanted to start a monthly feature for the blog in which I watched a movie I hadn't seen in years. It could be something I adored when I first saw it or a flick I didn't care for even though many others do. I even watched The English Patient and took notes on it to prepare for this project. Then, of course, life interfered.

While cleaning out my 2008 notebook, I remembered another project I wanted to start. Therefore, this entry gives me the opportunity to do that and to start "Revisiting."

The 1960s were a turbulent decade, a furious energy reflected in Hollywood and many films of 1967. Mark Harris, a longtime presence at Entertainment Weekly, traces the evolution of the five movies nominated for Best Picture, four with social leanings and one old-fashioned big-budget song-and-dance epic. Inspired by Harris' book, Pictures at a Revolution, I decided to watch or re-watch the five flicks in question, looking at their quality overall and their relevance today. It's funny how time has changed opinions - including mine.

1) The Graduate (winner of Best Director Oscar). My second viewing; first was in 1996.

When I first watched The Graduate, I was 20 years old and, like our protagonist, a soon-to-be college graduate. I related to Benjamin's (Dustin Hoffman) anxiety and disaffect (although I always had too much ambition to be like him). The script by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry spoke to me, as it did to many people in their teens and 20s in the late 1960s: It was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay. As for Anne Bancroft, I remember thinking her Mrs. Robinson a cold, bitter shrew. Otherwise, The Graduate held a place on my all-time Top 10 list for years.

Funny what a decade or so of life experience can do for you.

Today, I notice The Graduate more as a directorial achievement - that's a well-deserved Oscar for Mike Nichols - and less for its storyline, now so often copied. Nichols uses light and shadow for great dramatic effect, e.g., staging conversations between Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson in the dark. He sets up a heartbreaking moment when Robinson daughter Elaine (Katharine Ross) uncovers her mother's affair with her boyfriend: As the camera pans out, she's tinier and tinier, in a corner, face wet from tears and rain. Nichols' greatest act may be the ways he employed the oft-played Simon and Garfunkel tunes: sometimes whistled, sometimes heavy on the guitar, rarely played all the way through.

I also have an empathy for Mrs. Robinson I lacked before cynicism and disappointment entered my life. Through reading Harris' book, I learned the emotion Bancroft tapped into was anger, a discovery that illuminated her performance. Conversely, I now find Benjamin spoiled and lazy, one of those tired people forever trying to find themselves. Dude, stop flitting about. Join the Peace Corps if you're bored. Be grateful you aren't going to 'Nam.