Sam Wasson "Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M: Audrey Hepburn And The Making Of Breakfast At Tiffany's" (Aurum)
I loved Audrey Hepburn In those classic movies she did. By the end, I found that everyone who knew her loved her - so no startling revelations here. Indeed, the author didn't set out to insult anyone: according to the subtitle, his intent is to position Audrey and "Breakfast at Tiffany's" as precursors to the "modern woman", although it's not clear who that woman is.
Audrey herself professed to put children and family far before her career and testimony from her son Sean and Robert Wolders, her longtime spousal equivalent until the end of her life, supports this. Apart from the flashy career she fell into and ultimately abandoned, Audrey was a firm traditionalist. Perhaps it was her character, Holly Golightly, the author had in mind?
The idea for the book surely came from Wasson's other book, "A Splurch in the Kisser: The Movies of Blake Edwards", the director of "Breakfast". He is the most fleshed-out character in this book, partly because of Wasson's access to him and his friends. He managed a happy, sometimes whacky set that presaged the zaniness of his Inspector Clouseau movies.
Most of the others involved in "Breakfast" have died: the two lead actors, the writer, one of the producers and the composer of the haunting title song, "Moon River" - Henry Mancini. The notes at the back cite lengthy input from Richard Shepherd, a producer, supporting actress Patricia Neal, and Hepburn's family. The remaining sources are magazine interviews with the principals and biographies of Truman Capote, Edith Head and others. So far so good until Wasson attempts to put words in his protagonists' heads as he does with Hepburn. Here she - supposedly - is as she waits in a car to begin the first scene in front of Tiffany's at 5 A.M.:
"What she had to do now was to forget that she wasn't anyone's first choice, and that Capote was dissatisfied (some said), and that no one seemed to know how much Holly was, well, whatever she was ... She had to forget about her fights with Mel (Ferrer, her husband) whom she missed as much as she was glad to be without. It wasn't something Audrey had put words to. Was it really true love? Or was it grown-up love, the kind they don't make movies about?"
This seems to be a monumental presumption. One of the magazine sources Wasson uses elsewhere in the book is "Photoplay", a popular movie rag of the 1950s and 60s and this pulpy item certainly reads the same way.
Truman Capote's Holly Golightly was based on his mother and some of his "swans", the New York socialites he palled around with. She was a dreamy-eyed girl who partied hard and supported herself by sleeping with men for money. In hiring Hepburn, the producers hoped to win over the production code people, and by blurring the reality of how Holly made a living, the movie manages to leave unsaid that she is, essentially, a hooker. The casting of everyone's favourite good girl helped sell that idea.
If Wasson's theory is that Holly (not Hepburn) signalled the "dawn of the modern woman", he also conveniently ignores the whole prostitute thing and apparently bases this on the fact that Holly lived alone and made her own way in the world. That girl is the one that Helen Gurley Brown celebrated in 1962 with "Sex and the Single Girl" and sassy as she was, Helen wasn't recommending prostitution for her career-minded readers.
In the end, it's enjoyable for the light-as-a-feather gossipy story it really is: part fact, part made-up stuff posing as fact. The author's attempts to make it some sort of comment on the dawn of something serious was off-putting and a little insulting to the reader's intelligence. Ignore the ridiculous subtitle: this is a story of how an entertaining movie was made, and some of the drama that went into hoodwinking the public as to what it was really about.