It has often occurred to me that if I could only write about film the way Gabriel García Márquez wrote about injustice and oppression (with total truth and beauty), I'd be a better man. André
Bazin was the only film critic who came close. I can still strive,
although every man must know his limitations. As the saying goes: the
enemy of art is the absence of limitations.
instance, I generally only write about anything when I first wake up in
the morning or I find myself extremely bored. That could explain the
quality of many of these 5 A.M. posts. I doubt García Márquez and
Bazin shared this problem. I picture them more as slaving away on their
typewriters into the early hours of the dawn, following that indomitable muse of elucidation; rather than waking up in their Star Wars pajama bottoms with a need to blog about Lee Marvin.
You may be
wondering what any of this has to do with Audrey Hepburn? Well, if any
singular film artist embodied the same values of truth and beauty that I
admire in Gabo and Bazin's writing, it was her. Today would have
been Audrey Hepburn's 85th birthday.
I needn't bore you
with a rehash of her luminous screen work or humanitarianism (that's
what Google is for). If I only had to mention two Hepburn performances
that were exceedingly close to me, they would be Robin and Marian (1976) and Always (1989).
Any Hepburn film is worth the time, even a walk on.
Whether she was playing opposite Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, Gregory
Peck, Fred Astaire, Rex Harrison, Peter O'Toole, Sean Connery or Richard Dreyfuss, it didn't matter. She was class incarnate. With radiance to spare. Today, all day, I will be thinking of her.
My resplendent emissary of truth and beauty.