Audrey had a way with people. She wooed them. She still does. So many of her films are almost travel-bios advertising the towns they tour – each city becoming a character of sorts in the film.
Roman Holiday (1953) sweeps her up into Gregory Peck’s arms for a guided tour of Rome offering an overworked Princess a rare holiday for a day.
In Funny Face (1957), Audrey tours Paris and transforms from bookish to bombshell. Bonjour Pari!
Breakfast at Tiffany’s catches cabs all around NYC with George Peppard. Their iconic day of firsts is a perfect city glance. 
Set in the well-sauced sixties, the story surrounds the nightlife loving New York model escort who befriends the young and beautiful writer George Peppard, who has similar secrets of his own.
Despite Mickey Rooney’s unfortunately racist caricature, much of this film still holds up. It’s a Pretty Woman story of sorts, in which Audrey Hepburn gets to play against type as Holly Golightly. 
No longer the little girl, wistful and tender hopping about Rome, this role created by author Truman Capote is much darker: a girl, full of sorrow, running from her past. The mask she wears just happens to have thick fake lashes and a perfect wardrobe dripping with tasteful jewels.
Honest and safe in each other’s presence, the two main characters grow more comfortable together and slowly more cognizant the fact that to true love requires vulnerability, dependence, and exclusivity – all of the relational holds she’s been running from her whole life.
She shows him her Sunday afternoon side, singing on the fire escapes and feeding the cat. Henry Mancini wrote the famous song “Moon River” for this film. Studios weren’t going to let Audrey sing it because of her whispey vocals, but Mancini stood up and said if she didn’t sing it they wouldn’t get to use it.
Peppard quickly becomes the one man in New York who is privy to her past as a young girl on the farm, married off to a widow at fourteen. She seeks freedom in the Big Apple but finds only a new sort of slavery. She calls herself a wild thing who can’t be held down. She won’t even give the cat a name because he doesn’t really belong to her. To belong to somebody would give them power over her that she can’t allow – it hurts too much.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s, now iconic in both fashion and film, is truly one of the saddest stories, but it teaches its audiences that to love is to allow someone else in, for better or worse, and that that can be beautiful.
It’s iconically beautiful, scenes of my childhood unveil in perfect cake-topper symmetry. Emma Watson’s eyes sparkle as she sings through the little town. In her quiet pastel village, she’s the odd duck as the independent bookish type in bright blue. She’s a Hermione amongst so many muggles.
And the ancient story goes that her father offered to bring her a gift and she asked only for a single rose. I loved the incorporation of the original fairy tale. 
When he is captured, she sacrificially takes her father’s place as a prisoner at the enchanted castle where famous voices fill the gorgeous household items: Emma Thompson as Mrs. Potts, Sir Ian Mckellan as Cogsworth, Ewan McGregor as Lumiere, and sweet Stanley Tucci as Maestro the piano.
Gaston truly stole the show. He and LeFou, French for “the fool,” perfectly capture their cartoons and embody the enemy and comrade just back from the war now looking to settle down. Rumors regarding LeFou’s identity seem forced since he is more admirer side-kick than love interest.
Not since Wall-E has a Disney flick seen the need to bend each voice so electronically. Poor Emma seemed almost upset about it sometimes, almost as much as she seemed mostly happy during the Be Our Guest scene (in which she never eats) or the library scene – always almost excited. She was most certainly asked to play Belle almost expressionlessly, especially opposite the oddly shifting CGI-bodied Beast. Emma’s stalemate facials perhaps made the beast more lifelike until he became Matthew from Downton Abbey – a truly unexpected transformation.
Jane Austen’s unfinished novel hits screens with a thud. Tea cupboards swing wide with hospitality for the nearest of kin when they are widowed and destitute. Lady Susan, perfectly underplayed by Kate Beckinsale, overstays her welcome with two families.
When her almost grown daughter enters the picture, a play for obedience turns to persuasion, and competition reigns. Who the winner is in the end is unknown as it screen cuts like the novel, without conclusion.
Mowgli is just a little boy who must learn, as all others do, how to survive in his world: jumping over giant tree limbs, swinging from vines like an orangutan, singing with bears and monkeys, running from Shere Kahn, howling as the adopted son of the wolf pack.
The screen goes dark after the final, gorgeous, framable shot of this art film closes with the unique credit sequence. The lights come up in the theater and the audience exits reluctantly, as sad to leave the jungle as Mowgli was when he realized he had to rejoin the man village. Director Jon Favreau, who also brought us Elf and Iron Man, made a masterpiece with this live action re-make of the 1967 Disney favorite. It stays true to the characters, the music, the art of the original. 
The classic Jungle Book comes to life in glorious widescreen with the unmistakable voices and cadence of favorite actors like Bill Murray and Christopher Walken. May the wonders of this kind of movie making never cease. It’s amazing to think that it was all made on a sound stage in Hollywood. 
Everyone old enough to appreciate the original MUST watch this film. It’s rare that I say I loved everything about a film, but I wish I had the ability to stop blinking and never miss a single frame of this perfect picture. See it, and live the beauty of the original film. Sit up close. Baloo, Bagheera, Mowgli, and every jungle friend will be your friend for life.
The nods to the Star Wars canon of films and universe lore were extensive. They allowed family and friends to participate on set in small ways and asked the old gang of concept artists to get back together to dream for VII.
So the CGI worked, as it appropriately nodded to George Lucas and ILM’s life works but didn’t go overboard. Most CG characters were meant to be despised. The likable oracle however, Maz Knata, with her all-seeing tiny eyes, had Han’s approval and therefore ours. He nods, we nod. He falls, we fall. We may have seen it coming, but it’s still a shock, no matter how poetic it was.
The power of the force was treated exactly like I’ve seen addiction. Ben Solo, now Kylo Ren, craves it, seeks it, cherishes it, blocks out all others. He’s addicted, swallowed by it. His father wants to rescue him at all costs. Han’s fatherly love is beautiful and sacrificial. Perfect.
We also rejoice and applaud vigorously in theaters along with the new characters as they too rediscover old favorite characters, ships, weapons, and the mysteries of the force. My friend, Dusten (pictured below dressed as Kylo Ren for opening night, followed by his daughters in festive array. They are the best!) said that he loved how the three new characters were given Luke’s characteristics. It’s true, equal parts insecure orphan, trooper uniformed rescuer, and stellar pilot.
Fin, played by John Boyega, according to the exposition is basically one of Invisible Children’s rescues. He has his Jack from Lost’s savior complex in tact, and he’s reluctant enough to drop into any scenario with our support. We want him to win forever.
Splatter: on FILM 