Funny Face
What a surprise: another Film Club pick that was previously a blind spot in my film viewing! That I hadn’t seen Funny Face before this week was most appalling because my favorite genre of film is the musical and two of my favorite movie stars are Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. How and why did I go so long without seeing Stanley Donen’s beloved film? However, while my expectations of Funny Face were extremely high, given said genre and starring actors, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a mixed reaction to a film as I did to this one.
While I have a special place in my heart for nearly every musical film, I frequently have to watch musicals from the 1950s and earlier with a degree of leniency. The toughest part of these films for me to swallow is that the story must be finagled in a way to incorporate songs by a composer(s) (in this case, George and Ira Gershwin) that may have preexisted the story itself by decades. As it happens, five of the songs in the film were originally written for a 1927 Broadway show which was also called Funny Face and also starred Fred Astaire, but otherwise is completely unrelated to the film. Another song was originally written for a completely different Broadway musical. The remaining songs composed for the film are no more relevant to the story and characters than the others (“Think Pink” and “How to Be Lovely” are two such examples). Nevertheless, in nearly every number I was transfixed by the visuals: the brilliant use of color, the depth of the direction, the fabulous costumes, and, of course, the choreography.
The integrated musical with songs intended to further character and story was present on Broadway from as early as the 1930s. In fact, in 1957, the same year that Funny Face was released, West Side Story premiered on Broadway. By the 1960s, Hollywood had more fully embraced the integrated musical, the Tin Pan Alley composers were replaced with the likes of Rodgers and Hammerstein, and bigger budgets allowed for grand set constructions and location shooting. Funny Face is fascinating because you can see it being pushed and pulled between these two eras of the musical film genre. You can see the direction and choreography wanting to follow the natural evolution of the genre, while the tenuously-connected songs and script are interested in clinging to old Hollywood. Case in point: our two lead actors: the decades-reputable Fred Astaire and the immensely popular Audrey Hepburn, during her heyday.
The funniest thing about Funny Face is the fact that the film refuses to admit that Astaire was pushing 60 years old to Hepburn’s late 20s. We are instead supposed to see Astaire as the same spry and charming youth that he was a couple of decades earlier in Swing Time (1936, dir. George Stevens). Even back then he would have been about 10 years older than Hepburn. This vast difference in the two represented eras of Hollywood film is only heightened when the film asks Astaire to simply do what he did in the good old days with his choreography. It’s frustrating because Astaire was a very adaptable dancer, and had already proved his capability with the more modern style of Michael Kidd, choreographer of The Band Wagon (1953, dir. Vincente Minnelli), and would do so again in his last film, Finian’s Rainbow (1968, dir. Francis Ford Coppola). Nevertheless, Astaire’s dancing never fails to delight me. No matter how jarring it may feel as it begins, he works his magic in such a way that I forget my mild annoyance and am invested in his movement. However, when paired with trained ballerina Audrey Hepburn, the unthinkable happens. Astaire is outshone. While in their first number together, “Funny Face,” they seem very well-matched as dance partners, when it comes to the more graceful wedding dress dance, Hepburn is perfection, with gorgeous lines and fluidity that only highlight Astaire’s age and loss of flexibility. What’s more, in the best dance number of the film, Hepburn’s modern dance set in a bohemian café (massive respect to choreographer Eugene Loring), Astaire is not a participant. Instead, he sits and watches her completely steal the movie from him.
The content of the script is similarly pulled in different directions. While the quick wit of the comedy was enjoyable and at times genuinely hilarious, the story itself was distressingly antiquated, even for the 1950s. In the world of Funny Face, the woman who is both beautiful and intellectual is as rare a creature as a unicorn, and even still, naïve to the ways of the world. Furthermore, Jo’s (Hepburn) intellectual interests are dismissed by Dick (Astaire), and her philosophical idol, Professor Flostre (Michal Auclair) is revealed to be a hypocritical cad. In the end, Jo’s enthusiasm for philosophy is proven as frivolous as those feather-headed models that tire poor Dick so. Seriously, how can Jo be so enamored with someone who blatantly states that he doesn’t care about her intellect in the slightest and whose most-uttered phrase directed toward her is “wet your lips”? Jo declares Dick to be from “the Stone Age” at his remark that men are the ones who should ask women to dance. The entire moral center of the film is set in the Stone Age.
The climactic conflict of the movie is bizarrely sexist. Dick condemns Jo’s naïveté, leaving her in a situation that he (correctly) believes will leave her vulnerable to unwanted advances. Jo regrets… not listening to him, I guess? And he eventually forgives her when he learns that she rebuffed said advances… even though she insisted that she only wanted to discuss philosophy and he believed she was being naïve, not eager to form a romance with Flostre. If I may directly quote my original notes, “WHY IS HE THE ONE WHO IS UPSET?!?!” It is one of the most ridiculous conflicts (and resolutions) I’ve ever seen in a film. Dick has undergone absolutely zero changes by the end of the film, and Jo is the one who is supposed to have learned a lesson. What is it? To expect men to attack you next time? To shut up about philosophy already? I’m still fuming about this.
Funny Face was a fascinating watch. While I found so much lacking in the writing of the film, the visual moments transfixed me, and the performances are quite enjoyable despite some of the material (If I had more time, I would discuss how wonderful Kay Thompson was as the unexpected comedic element of the film). I have a feeling that the film is remembered for its style first. The modern choreography, Hepburn’s overall look, and the brilliant use of color in scene after scene are such standout elements that are so removed from the writing that the film can easily be remembered as more cohesive than it is. This movie made me smile a dozen times and made me roll my eyes just as much. I can easily see myself returning to this movie with fond memories in a year or two only to be reminded of the nonsense that happens in between the delightful musical numbers. At least half of it will be worth it. – Bailey 📕🗢
🎵“… ‘S Wonderful… ‘S Marvelous…” 🎶
(Lyrics from the 1927 song, “‘S Wonderful,” by George and Ira Gershwin)
No two phrases, then those found in the popular Gershwin brother’s melody, better describe how I feel about Funny Face. I grew up watching this 1957 musical, directed by Stanley Donen, and have returned to this film time and time again. It has always been a bit of a puzzlement for me, as to why I like this film so much. It is certainly not a traditional romance, and there are times when Jo (Audrey Hepburn) borders insufferable with her fixation on Professor Flostre (Michel Auclair), but there is also a certain undeniable charm about the film that is infectious and puts a smile on my face every time I rewatch this movie.
From the intro credits to the opening musical number with Maggie (Kay Thompson) exuberantly instructing everyone at “Quality” magazine to “Think Pink!,” one is swiftly caught up in all the fashion frenzy and it is easy to take delight in the costuming, musical numbers, and staging of Funny Face. In a way it is of no surprise that this film received four Academy Award nominations (including Best Writing, Story and Screenplay - Written Directly for the Screen, Best Costume Design, Best Cinematography, and Best Art Direction-Set Decoration), but it is, in my mind, surprising that Edith Head and Hubert de Givenchy were snubbed the win for Best Costuming, as this film is truly iconic and mesmerizing through the myriad of 1950s fashions that it captured. The gowns and costumes are breathtaking, particularly each of Audrey Hepburn’s dresses, meticulously styled accessories, and overall costumes for the Paris photography fashion shoot montage. It is always amusing to watch Fred Astaire playing photographer Dick Avery and attempting to direct Hepburn’s Jo Stockton, as the two play off each other so well in these scenes.
Speaking of Astaire and Hepburn, their on-screen chemistry does at times feel a little forced, but it still somehow works and manages to carry the movie. Certainly, Dick is a better choice for Jo than Professor Flostre, but there is something almost avuncular about Astaire’s performance that nearly doesn’t work, which has nothing to do with looks or the substantial age difference between these actors in real life, rather it simply boils down to a question of screen chemistry. In some respects, there is more give and take between Astaire and Kay Thompson, as the fashion magazine’s editor, Maggie Prescott, particularly in the way they play off each other so well, as seen in the “Clap Yo’ Hands” number used as a distraction at Flostre’s residence. Upon rewatching the film again, I found myself quasi rooting for Maggie and Dick to end up together, and for Jo to wind up living her best single life by enrolling at a university or owning her own bookshop (like “Embryo Concepts”) at the film’s conclusion (hypothetical alternate ending, anyone?).
That being said, what really stood out to me upon rewatching the film was how much of a time capsule it has become of Paris, and 1950s fashion, the two unspoken ‘stars’ of the film. The locations are so highly recognizable, particularly during the “Bonjour, Paris!” number, with Maggie, Dick, and Jo exploring the city, and visiting such famous landmarks as the Arc de Triomphe, the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, and the Eiffel Tower, among several others; the film becomes a bit of a love letter to the city. Between the exterior locations and fashion photography montages, Funny Face is a visual treat for the eyes.
Lastly, I would be remiss not to mention and point out that Audrey Hepburn was able to hold her own, both through song and dance, throughout the entire film. In Funny Face, Hepburn does her own singing, and it would have been truly interesting to see what she would have sounded like in My Fair Lady (1964, dir. George Cukor) had the decision been made not to dub her voice… (but I digress…) As far as dancing goes, Hepburn is able to keep up with Fred Astaire, and the two share some lovely dancing moments, but she really shines during her rather iconic solo dance number at the Parisian nightclub, dressed in all black apart from white socks (an oft copied look that has been reiterated numerous times throughout popular culture since this film’s release). Hepburn’s youthful exuberance is infectious, there are times that she truly appears to be having fun with her dance numbers – her smile looks so genuine – making for a truly iconic overall performance.
It might seem easy to try to relegate Funny Face as being just another 1950s musical, but in my mind, there is something so elegant and sophisticated about the story, directing, music, and costuming of this film that it stands out as a true exemplar of the decade. I for one have not been able to get several of the songs by the Gershwin Brothers out of my head all month, so it may be time for a rewatch sooner rather than later. – Sarah 👰💐
What did you think of Funny Face? What was your favorite part of this film? Share your thoughts in the comments below and check back soon for the announcement of our March Film Club Pick!
Copyright © 2022 Sarah Crane & Bailey Lizotte Clark
