accidental feminist

roman holiday = eat it, anne hathaway! December 1, 2008

I’d seen “Roman Holiday” before, in my “I date a guy who only watches black and white movies and listens to opera CDs even though he’s never been to the opera” days. It was charming then (the film, not my relationship), and I knew the girls would love it. After the compulsory griping (”Is the whole thing in black and white? Why can’t we watch ‘Shrek the Third’?!”), Audrey Hepburn appeared. And there was “ooh”ing and “ah”ing and “she’s soooo pretty”ing.

What I had forgotten is just how sad the ending is, precisely because, in that wonderful way the 50’s had of bottling up its emotions and leaving them for the 60’s to deal with, everyone is sad about how things have to turn out, but nevertheless resigned that nothing can be done about it. Nowadays, princes and princesses seem to be able to date whoever the hell they want (thanks, Princess Di, for loosening that jar), and, in fact, I can think of several relatively recent movies where the princess “marries down” for love (okay, the two that come to mind are both cartoons, but my point, I believe, is still valid).

At any rate, it’s not like she and Gregory Peck were, like, soul mates or anything. But there were sparks, and if they were in “normal” circumstances, they would have been pursued. Plus, only a total gentleman takes a Quaalude-ed up girl back to his apartment for the night and doesn’t take advantage of her. Don’t let that one get away, Smitty!