breakfast at tiffanys

I borrowed Matt's wife the other day to catch the opening of the Blake
Edwards series at my beloved little Aero theatre. The series opened with one of my all time favorite films, one in which fashion and New York architecture are inseparably comingled with the plotline itself. Julie commented recently that she had never seen the film and so I had to set things right.

I'm speaking, of course, about "Breakfast at Tiffany's", with Audrey
Hepburn at her most radiant, casually tossing on Givenchy originals without a second thought and demonstrating that true elegance involves understatement and not just ornamentation.

It features George Peppard in his devilishly handsome phase, when he had the torso of a Greek statue and his eyes were deep blue pools that we'd all like to dive into. Not to mention the scene where she climbs into his bedroom window while he sleeps. I think we were both envious.



Julie was simply overcome by the beauty of it all. I hear her literally gasp several times. A grand film deserves a grand presentation, and every frame was a treat. Besides, the finale searching for the nameless cat in the rain always makes me tear up. Cinematic perfection.

Here's a tribute by Deep Blue Something. Not the version I wanted, so please ignore the graphics and turn the volume up instead. For Holly, Fred Baby, and Cat: