Is The Graduate ruined for me?

I was watching The Graduate for probably the 25^th time last weekend.

It’s always been on my top 10 list of films. And not only because, like its protagonist, I was also a confused 20-year-old boy-man who graduated college early and had yet to have sex with anyone.

Did I just admit that publicly? Well, if that’s the worst thing you can say about me…

In any event – Mike Nichols’ direction; the performances by Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft; the funny, squirmy, ring of truth screenplay by Buck Henry and Calder Willingham based on Charles Webb’s novel. And so much more. It ALL works.

Doesn’t it?

Well, it did for me. The first 24 times. Until last week when I was stopped dead in my tracks by one of its most potent sequences.

It’s about 15-20 minutes in when the sensuously seductive, middle-aged and married Mrs. Robinson coerces young Benjamin into driving her home and then condescendingly intimidates him into walking her inside her house and up the stairs to see her daughter’s portrait because she’s “afraid to be alone.”

Do people even get portraits done anymore?

Upstairs and in her daughter’s room, Benjamin’s now a nervous wreck, but, well, at least this is almost over. Until she begins to get undressed for bed, at which point he runs down the stairs to leave and she calls down to him, demanding he bring up her purse and put it back on the bed in her daughter’s room.

Which he does. Cause that’s what guys like us do.

At which point he turns and sees her quickly re-enter fully naked, lock the door to prevent him from leaving and stand boldly in front of him. She then declares – in a measured but very definitive voice – she is available to sleep with and that if he won’t do it now he should call her any time, day or night and they will make arrangements. It’s not a seduction so much as a challenge, bordering on a demand.

Never mind Mrs. Robinson is a long-time family friend and that her husband is his father’s long-time business partner. Or – creep alert – that she’s known since his toddler years. It doesn’t matter to her. One bit.

Except to him it does.

And Mrs. Robinson knows that. Because as she stares him down, still in front of that locked door, she demands he tell her he understands not only what she is saying but what she really means. And by her tone, it’s clear she won’t take no for answer.

If only Benjamin had this gif to express himself

Benjamin begins to stammer, sighs deeply and, in a desperate panic, finally says the words. At which point he pushes her naked torso out of the way, there’s a closeup of his fumbling hands unlocking that door, and he runs all the way down the stairs and out of the house in panic.

We don’t see Mrs. Robinson’s reaction to his exit but all through the scenes leading up to this climactic (Note: Though not quite. Not yet.) moment she smirks, lies, manipulates and even gently laughs at him. She’s confident this kid will soon be intrigued and very likely tempted. After all, she knows she’s eye candy to any man, especially a boy-man who is lucky enough to get a full-frontal, closeup view of her in the actual flesh. She’s doing HIM a favor. Trapped or not and whether he likes it or not.

But…how could he not like it???

This is how it read to me in 2024, a time when I am long past my twenties and far more experienced than I ever dreamed I’d be all those years ago.

The predatory behavior. Exposing yourself to an inexperienced minor (Note: It wasn’t until the early 1970s that the age of consent was changed from 21 to 18) in a room you lock from the inside. Not letting them leave until they either have sex with you or verbally, and convincingly, say they will consider it at some future date.

Some might consider it potentially traumatizing. If not downright abusive. Or even illegal.

Of course, in 1967 this was not only acceptable but a key factor in making the film one of the biggest box-office and critical hits of the decade. Benjamin was considered a lucky guy and Mrs. Robinson was thought of as a MILF (Note: A today term, but apt) doing him an, ahem, solid.

A neurotic mess when she locked that door, he would even continue to be a few sequences later when they check into a hotel room together. That is until he resists immediately f-king her once inside and she begins to laugh at him – and then accuses him of being gay.

That does it. He turns the lights out and it’s game on.

It took all that effort and all those “insults” for him to become a man. A guy who only months later would have the nerve to date her daughter and treat her shabbily, then decide he’s fallen in love with her even though she hates him, and then go all out and finally manage to convince her to marry him.

What could go ever wrong?

Thanks to Mrs. Robinson, Benjamin will NEVER need therapy. Not only that, he has finally found the stones to stand up for himself and get what and who he wants against all odds.

As all real men do.

A few questions to consider:

What would we have said if Benjamin were Belinda and MR. Robinson locked HER in a room and exposed HIMSELF? Likely, that would not have been considered a good thing then or now. But if we kept the sexes of Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson intact? Do we think any differently about it, even today?

How about if Benjamin didn’t respond to all that pressure and was impotent with Mrs. Robinson that first time in their hotel room because he was simply nervous? What’s the aftermath? Or his next move in the dating pool? And, well, how would that go?

Or imagine a gay but closeted Benjamin in 1967. Would all this have changed him into believing he was straight? Or added yet another level of self-hatred to his pitiful secret desires? Perhaps it would immediately force him out of the closet simply to prove something. And what exactly would the result have been back then?

Revisiting a socially liberal, though seemingly apolitical classic like The Graduate and realizing it doesn’t fully hold up to contemporary morality, doesn’t mean we were all wrong about it. Nor does it detract from its craft, its humor, its insightfulness or its fine performances. It simply gives new perspectives on human behavior. And enlightens us on the nuances of consent and the dynamics of power.

TCM host and film scholar Jacqueline Stewart wrote about Gone With The Wind in the aftermath of George Floyd’s death and America’s new, imperfect reckoning with race. While others called for it to be pulled off the MAX platform, she instead wrote an introduction to contextualize it and led a filmed discussion for viewers who wanted to revisit it and see classic cinema for its flaws as well as its greatness.

She notes GWTW glorifies a system of brutality (e.g. slavery) and downplays the inhumane treatment of African people in a way that has shaped Americans’ understanding of race. But elaborates that given its enduring popularity the answer is not to ban it altogether but rather use its allure as a way to educate ourselves…The ability to complicate the pleasure we get from these works…puts us in a position of having more meaningful discussions about them.

On that note, there is a riveting documentary/play/movie that was just launched on MAX this weekend called, Slave Play. Not A Movie. A Play. Directed by Jeremy O. Harris, who wrote the provocative, and much acclaimed theatre piece, Slave Play, whose Broadway production received 12 Tony nominations several years ago, it’s a unique offering.

In under two hours, we get to see very dramatic, whole sections of various incarnations of the show from early workshopping to Broadway excerpts, as well as staged scenes Mr. Harris directed at the Yale Drama School.

More importantly, it contextualizes not only issues of race but queerness, love, marriage and yes, consent, in ways most of us have likely not ever considered or connected before.

If I told you that you would get to see period Civil War era scenes of a Southern white woman order her mulatto slave to have sex with her; a Black gay man humiliate his gay, white trash partner; or a Civil War overseer refuse to beat a Black female slave even though she urges him on, you might well say – um, that’s not for me.

But in actuality, that’s what Mr. Harris wants you to say. And think.

So he can then pull the rug out from under you mid-way through and let you know what this is all really about.

It’s insight that can happen when those of us who watch movies, television and theatre – the old, the recent and the new – get to see them through a contemporary gaze. When we don’t shut our minds off but instead open them up to all types of material and ways of thinking we failed to consider previously or perhaps never could have imagined.

Simon and Garfunkel – “Mrs. Robinson”

09.25.22

by notesfromachair

The Others

There is a 305 feet tall monument in New York Harbor that was built as a symbol to welcome all immigrants into the United States.

It is called the Statue of Liberty and was a gift from France to the U.S. in the late 1800s to honor American values and the end of slavery (Note: Ahem) after the Civil War.

The idea for this gift came from a conversation between Edouard Laboulaye, a politician, law professor and president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, and the sculptor Frederic Bartholdi.

I’ve thought a lot about the Statue in recent weeks as the United States continues to have a centuries old debate about immigration.

Among the questions raised in this debate are statements like:

–How many do we have to take?

– What about US, or the U.S.?

– We feel bad for “those people” but right now we don’t have enough American jobs for real Americans.

And my favorite:

– Why must we dilute American culture, religion and skin color with THEM, to the point where our very own AMERICAN culture, religion and skin color, gets watered down and rendered unrecognizable?

There is no point getting into the details of any one of those questions, and many more, over immigration to a country whose very existence was built on a nation full of immigrants from an oppressive society traveling to a new country where everyone from anywhere would theoretically be free to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

That the U.S. has not always lived up to its mission statement is not in debate. But that this was always a fact of its intention is undeniable if you subscribe to historical facts, or any facts at all.

This week I watched the superb three-part PBS documentary The U.S. and The Holocaust by filmmakers Ken Burns, Lynn Novick and Sarah Botstein.

It’s a riveting six hours of overtly watchable, if maddening, history that sadly feels all too contemporary.

This is not only because it gives us a painstaking account of the rise and, not necessarily guaranteed at the time, fall of the Nazi Party.

Rather it is due to the fact that with the myriad of interviews with people who were there, combined with historical footage, governmental documents, and accounts from some of those serving the White House during those years, it explains the reluctance of the U.S. to open its doors fully to Jews desperate to escape (nee migrate) here, at the time.

As the film puts it, this was principally due to:

a. A repressively strict immigration quota system and, more importantly,

b. A nationwide resistance to allowing our country to become overrun with others who would threaten the religious, economic and social balance in the U.S.

In simpler terms, this means Jews who would be needy, Jews who would take American jobs and, mostly, Jews that were branded as inferior and responsible for the economic troubles real Germans, nee Europeans, were forced to endure during the 1930s.

It wasn’t until several decades later when America had already won the war; six million Jews, not to mention many millions of others, had been killed; and the country had fully recovered from the Depression it was still reeling from in the 1930s, that US immigration quotas were lifted.

Yet all the while most of the top decision makers in the U.S. government knew of the grave danger and mass murders the Jews in Europe were enduring all through the 1930s.

Also, as the filmmakers inform us, public sentiment AGAINST welcoming any more European Jewish immigrants was well over 70% during most of that time.

This included a large and very rabid Nativist, Anti-Semitic movement dominating a significant section of public and private institutions in the U.S. being spearheaded by people like much adored, wholly American aviation hero Charles Lindbergh.

Well, what do you do when so many in a country don’t want to open its doors for outsiders from another country and culture to come inside?

How about when those citizens, already hurting from their own economic woes, claim there is no room for THEM?

These questions plague us to this day. To wit:

What can you say when people whose lives are in danger, people who have no physical resemblance to the majority of US, literally arrive here (Note: We are more connected these days and have better transportation) by the tens of thousands?

Do you tighten the borders, raise the quotas and build a theoretical and/or literal wall to keep them out? (Note: Also known as buying them bus or plane tickets to simply get them out of your sight and away from your town).

Or do you take history into account, visit New York Harbor (note: physically or virtually) and consider who you are as a nation and how you can learn from your past mistakes?

Here is some information about our very own Lady Liberty that might shed some light on things, as she is wont to do anyway.

Mr. Laboulaye, who as mentioned had the idea for Her in the first place, was a staunch abolitionist and supporter of the Union Army during the Civil War. In other words, he was rabidly against slavery, especially the kind that helped build the United States.

So when that particular form of servitude was officially outlawed here (Note: Ahem, again) he decided it could be significant to have a proper symbol of freedom greeting all newcomers on their arrival to these shores of freedom.

It would be the first visual they saw upon arrival, an encouraging beacon lighting the road to a new life in the offing.

That sculpture, Lady Liberty, actually depicts the Roman Liberty goddess, Libertas. She holds a torch high above her head in her right hand and in her left is a tablet on which the Roman numerals for American Independence Day, July 4, 1776, is inscribed.

Fundraising efforts included visiting the torch for 50 cents as the platform was being built (1876, Philadelphia)

But the pedestal on which she stands, which would become part of the statue we know, took more than a decade plus to finance and build in the U.S. separately through donations spearheaded by a member of the media, a newspaper publisher (Note: Imagine that!) named Joseph Pulitzer.

It accounts for half the height of what is now one of the most iconic monuments in the world and bears a plaque of the poem The New Colossus, written by 19^th century poet Emma Lazarus.

Not coincidentally, Ms. Lazarus was a Sephardic Jew from an immigrant family of Portuguese descent, as well as an activist on behalf of Jewish immigrants. (Note: Imagine that, again!).

And though her poem was not written specifically for the Statue her words have, over the years, become synonymous with its intent.

Among the most famous is this section:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

This is not to say that it takes someone Jewish inside the U.S. or a foreigner from outside the country (Note: In France, no less!) to show and tell us what democracy and American values are all about.

However, it has always been of interest to me that it took Czech born film director Milos Forman to make so many great films chronicling America, including the quintessential American counterculture musical, Hair; the fictional story of E.L. Doctorow’s America in Ragtime; an unlikely depiction and ultimate condemnation of American censorship in The People vs. Larry Flynt; and a celebration of oddball American creativity in the Andy Kaufman biopic, Man in the Moon.

It has also not escaped me that the very, very New York Jewish immigrant, Irving Berlin, wrote one of most popular anthems the U.S. conservative movement has ever wrapped its arms around, God Bless America.

All this is to say that every once in a while, and perhaps more often than that, it’s nice to be reminded who we really are, or strive to be, by some of the OTHERS who, rightly or wrongly, admired US.

And to welcome them into the fold and learn from them the lessons we were all supposed to have known in the first place.

Aretha Franklin – “God Bless America”

notes from a chair

Tag Archives: documentary

Is The Graduate ruined for me?

The Others