A week ago, the parents and I were watching a rerun of "Cold Case." This particular episode was set in the 1960s and ended with the oh-so-lovely Mancini tune, "Moon River." That got Dad thinking about "Breakfast at Tiffany's," and he rented it a day or two later.
I had never seen it (travesty!) so I watched it with them, and loved it. Audrey Hepburn was absolutely beautiful, and George Peppard was gorgeous, too.
Those were the good ol' days, before the time when the endless outpouring of bad, worse, and downright ugly movies occured that Hollywood seems so intent on tossing out, rapid-fire, to make more and more money for their already bulging coffers.
Holly Golightly: I'll tell you one thing, Fred, darling... I'd marry you for your money in a minute. Would you marry me for my money?
Paul Varjak: In a minute.
Holly: I guess it's pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?
Paul: Yeah.
Fantastic! The classic movies relied on wit and that oh-so-elusive thing called plot.
When we finished watching "Breakfast at Tiffany's," I remarked to Mom and Dad, "Now I've got to see 'Casablanca'." I rented it yesterday and Dad and I watched it last night.
I just need to say one thing:
Humphrey Bogart was not a classically handsome man. But boy, was he sexy.
And the movie! Sixty-four years later, that movie is still converting new fans.
Rick: And remember, this gun is pointed right at your heart.
Captain Renault: That is my least vulnerable spot.
So I've been converted. I have a feeling I'll be renting many, many Bogart movies, and Hepburn movies, and moving on to other famous movies, as well.
Here's looking at you, kid.
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