In literature, Holly Golightly is a contradictory: she wants everything but doesn’t treasure anything; she doesn’t know what she has until it is gone. In film, she is more of a dilettante, playing the female lead in the first romantic comedy. The book by Truman Capote and the film starring Audrey Hepburn are certainly opposites although I kind of liked both works.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s – chosen as a title because of Holly’s proclivity towards daft comments echoed some of Capote’s friends and illustrated in the film when Hepburn ends an evening by having coffee and a pastry in a Givenchy dress outside the jeweller – is about a number of characters who cannot decide what they want. Holly Golightly is a Manhatten socialite who wishes to settle down a number of men for their money, although she may already have been married in a previous life. The Narrator (given the name Paul in the film) also seeks a meaningful relationship and begins to think that Holly may be the answer.
The protagonist of the novella can never get exactly what she desires because she is designed to be a commentary about consumerism in the United States. She wants it everything, for no other reason than because she can. There may be a real person underneath all of her masks but she rarely lets her guard down. Until she acknowledges her true self and chooses substance over style, she will indefinitely remain unsatisfied.
The protagonist of the film is much less enigmatic. She is more open to “Fred” and understands that he may offer her some sort of permanence that wealthy suitors cannot. Initially, Paul is in a relationship with a pretentious decorator prone to rococo flourishes. When they are alone, Paul and Holly have a connection and begin to realize that they can simplify their lives.
Similarities remain. Director Balke Edwards renders Capote’s prose to the screen remarkably well, translating an engrossing literary character into a pop culture icon. The film also pays tribute to the splendour of New York City, at least how people would like it to be. The dialogue in both formats is engaging, witty and memorable.
The two works begin to diverge as the conclusion nears. The novella becomes a journal of unfulfilled aspirations and the struggle to persevere nonetheless whereas the film allows those wishes to become reality. Both messages are valuable although perhaps the film contains slightly less gravitas. Despite trends in modern cinema towards superficial subjects and daft writing, this needn’t be the case. However, like Capote’s characters discover, you can’t have everything.
On screen, “Cat” is very well trained and plays the role of Holly’s feline counterpart well. The two are perfectly matched for each other, although Holly will not name the animal because she does not feel that they have a meaningful relationship. They maintain a certain charisma and both Hepburn and the cat steal the scenes whenever they appear on camera.
Unfortunately, Mickey Rooney portrays Mr. Yunioshi as a stereotypical and unsophisticated Japanese man constantly at odds with Holly and her late hours. In the novella, Yunioshi is as captivated by her as much as any other character and since he is a photographer, he is treated as much as an artist as the nameless narrator who is a writer himself. This one significant flaw detracts from what could be an absolutely timeless classic. I am unsure whether this is regrettable or not — could foresight have prevented this error in judgment or did the prevailing thinking of the times make it inevitable? ***