Film Review: Paris When It Fizzles Sizzles (1964)

Yes, it’s an old movie. And yes, most of it actually takes place indoors, in a movie set “hotel room” with a fake backdrop of the Parisian skyline.

Nevertheless, I was sick with the flu when I chose this film, and when one is sick with the flu, one does not normally want to watch anything more demanding than, uhm, a romantic comedy. If Audrey Hepburn is in it, one can feel that one is still watching quality film, non?

Anyway.

Still, I expected more, and not simply because Hepburn was in it. Luminous and the epitome of grace as always, she still couldn’t save what was a mess of a screenplay, made all the more ironic by the fact that the chaotic plot revolves around an unfolding mess of a screenplay.

William Holden plays Richard Benson, a washed-up Hollywood screenwriter and “international man of wit” who must come up with a script to fulfill an expensive contract within 48 hours. He enlists the assistance of comely and intelligent Gabrielle Simpson, played ably by Hepburn, and together the two enable each other’s increasingly illogical fantasies as they stumble and drink their way towards a decent storyline.

I love Holden. I loved him in Sabrina and loved him even more in Born Yesterday. When I eventually get around to seeing Bridge On The River Kwai, I’ll probably just kiss the screen, he’s such a phenomenal presence. He plays dark-and-mysterious so well, and he uses that to his advantage here. He skirts the edge between devilish and just plain creepy, and while it’s a little disconcerting to see his — ahem — much-lived-in face come so close to Hepburn’s own line-free, youthful one (poor Audrey — forever consigned to being partnered with men old enough to be her father), it’s not difficult to see why wide-eyed, impressionable Gabrielle falls so hard for this writer so close to being a has-been.

Still, their sometimes-uneven chemistry can’t save the ridiculousness of the story. If you’ve seen Adaptation, or even the so-awful-I’ve-seen-it-a-dozen-times John Candy vehicle Delirious, you’ll recognize the plot device: writer pounds away at the keyboard working on a story, while the film cuts intermittently to scenes showing said story unfolding. As the writer changes plotlines, so does the “story.” Confused yet?

Caveat: I disliked Adaptation. Loved Meryl Streep and Nic Cage, but it was just too Hollywood self-referential to me. That’s not why Paris When It Sizzles disappointed me, though; it’s just that, well, the story (or, depending on their level of sobriety, stories) that Gabrielle and Richard spin out of their drunken fantasies bored the heck out of me. I mean, vampires, runaway carriages, fat French inspectors watching them from behind Le Figaro? Gabrielle’s voiceover about how she envisions one of the secondary characters looking like Tony Curtis, and then the camera zooms in to a scene in their screenplay where said secondary character is played by — wait for it — Tony Curtis? Perhaps watching it from the vantage point of a post-New Wave, postmodern generation has jaded this avid filmgoer, but I found nothing especially funny or even interesting about these devices. Were they so avant-garde back in 1964 that the audience could be forgiven for missing the otherwise boring overall story?

I enjoyed the little throwaway lines, the sly references to many, many films (including some of Holden’s and Hepburn’s; I picked up on The World of Suzy Wong, My Fair Lady, Funny Face, Charade, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca), hearing Hepburn utter, “I’m, like, so happy for you,” with a straight face. Famed playwright Noel Coward makes a credible appearance as Richard’s overbearing producer, and of course Tony Curtis plays a hapless secondary character playing a hapless secondary character. (And no, that was not a typo.) Curtis is perhaps the most hilarious character, and he plays the role of the slightly effeminate, dazed-and-confused bit player to the hilt. Too bad he’s only in a handful of scenes. (Oh, but does he chew up the scenes!)

I’ve seen both Holden and Hepburn in much wittier, funnier, more romantic films. I remember reading somewhere that Holden and Hepburn had fallen deeply in love during the making of Sabrina, but because of Holden’s then-marriage and especially his confession of having had a vasectomy, Hepburn immediately broke off the affair as she had always wanted children. He reportedly never got over the breakup, and you can almost see the wistfulness in his expressions as he gazes at Gabrielle/Hepburn.

Unfortunately, this film does little justice to what could have been a great reunion of two classic Hollywood stars. Holden played a much better leading man in The World of Suzy Wong, and Hepburn — while lovely as ever — seems a little too haunted and knowing to play yet another ingenue. Her role in Charade (1963) as the experienced and sophisticated widow suits her well-earned maturity much better.

Still, it’s not a bad film, and if you’re a Hepburn fan anyway, you may as well see it. The cinematography showcases a glowing Paris, although if you’re only watching this to see Paris, you’d be better off getting Funny Face or even Charade. Unlike those two movies, where the city plays a critical role, Paris is really nothing more than a pretty background in this film, which is an awful shame. Many of the exterior scenes were filmed in what are obviously elaborate soundstages, and others appear to be stock footage.

The funniest part of the film (to me, anyway) comes at the very beginning, in the opening credits, where Hubert de Givenchy is credited with not only Ms. Hepburn’s wardrobe but also her perfume (L’Interdit, I presume?). Certainly this may be the only time in American movie history that a star’s perfume is also given credit? Makes you wonder if perhaps the film was released in, uhm, Smell-O-Vision.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.