“Just you wait, ‘enry ‘iggins, just you wait!”
Ahh, Prof. Henry Higgins, one of the most memorable figures of any musical. Yes I know, his origin is not My Fair Lady, but rather, the George Bernard Shaw play Pygmalion, which is the basis for the musical. Colonel Pickering, Mrs Higgins, Mrs. Pierce, Freddy Eynsford-Hill, and of course, Eliza Doolittle herself, also own their origin to Shaw. But since my familiarity with Eliza, Higgins and the rest is restricted to the Oscar-Winning film, I can’t really comment on Pygmalion. Nor the Lerner and Loewe Broadway show either. I can only talk about the film.
I don’t recall how old I was when I first was introduced to My Fair Lady. It was definitely as a child, pre-junior high days. I remember my Mother explaining it to me as happening around the same time as Mary Poppins. Imagine my dissappointment that they never co-existed. And such opportunities too! After all, during the Little Bit O’Luck sequence, a suffragette parade passes right through. Where’s Mrs. Banks? But, of course, it never happened. Nor did Freddy Eynsford-Hill ever encounter Bert and his fellow chimney sweeps, while he pined away outside Prof. Higgins’ residence. What could’ve been!
I mention this, because I just recently saw My Fair Lady the way it was meant to be: on the big screen. Every month, Turner Classic Movies, in conjunction with Fathom Events, presents a classic movie at the Cinemark theaters. My wife, her parents and I had previously gone to last month’s (to be honest, I’ve gone to many of these!) installment, The Wizard of Oz. And while there, we saw this month was to be My Fair Lady. I was instantly excited to see it, and made my plans. And for me, it’s funny, because though I’ve listened to the soundtrack so many times, there isn’t a lyric I don’t know by heart, it’s a whole different story from actually seeing the show itself.
But before I get into the show itself, I guess I should come clean about pre-conceived notions going in. Look no further than Prof. Henry Higgins.
I can’t admit to having seen much else of Rex Harrison (save stumbling over bits of Dr. Doolittle on tv here and there). And I’m sure as a kid, I missed out on the subtleties (translation: boorishness, or worse) of his character. What I do know is, he left quite the impression. He wasn’t Mr. Henry Higgins, after all; no, he was Prof. Henry Higgins. He spoke so quickly, used words like bullets out of a machine gun, and just dominated everything scene he was in. The show may have been called My Fair Lady, but for me, it was The Great Professor. Of course….I was a kid, and my judgement wasn’t….shall we say….fully developed. My current students will tell you, it probably still isn’t…but I can assure you it was worse then. Sure, Eliza’s story was nice….but it was a vehicle to show the greatness of Henry Higgins! And for those of you who know the show….yes, you’re right. I would’ve been celebrating Higgins too, and completely ignoring Eliza, extolling the triumph with lauds of You Did It! I think I probably saw some of the warning signs; why is Higgins not dressed like everyone else at Ascot (more on that later)? And why does his own mother, who seems a decent person, take to Eliza and not him? But like I said, I had seen it, I liked it, I LOVED the music (On the Street Where You Live maybe my favorite song to ever originate on the Broadway stage), and it was a long time till a repeat viewing. And oh yes, toss in a love of history, a fascination with the British Empire of Victoria and Edward, there was no question of where my class allegiances were. Sure, Alfred P. Doolittle could bring the house down with Get Me to the Church On Time, but if I was going to be there, I wouldn’t be hanging out with him and his cronies, relying on a A Little Bit O’Luck. Nor would I be in the market place with Eliza selling flowers. No sir, put me in fancy clothes, give me elocution, a rigorous education, and call me a gentleman like Prof. Henry Higgins and Col. Pickering. That’s what the younger me thought. But just like our esteemed Professor, just you wait!
Going into My Fair Lady in 2019, the first reservation I had was misogyny. That’s no surprise. It may have been years since I had seemed the film, but I still remembered that Higgins was rather nasty to Eliza. And even if I hadn’t seen the movie, I’ve been listening to the soundtrack. “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?”, the parade of insults when Higgins describes the pandemonium when you left a woman in your life, and all the jabs the Professor delivers right at Eliza. These range from “cold, heartless, gutter snipe” to “brazen hussy.” And that’s just what are included in Alan Jay Lerner’s lyrics. How much more insulting was Higgins when not singing?
The other piece of the puzzle was not, just how much society has changed from 1964, when the film was made, but also in my own lifetime. Heck, how much have societal norms changed in just the past five years? I’m talking about, of course, #MeToo. Though I don’t believe Henry Higgins ever sexually harassed Eliza Doolittle, a la Harvey Weinstein, he certainly wasn’t nice to her. I didn’t need to have seen the movie recently to know, from his completely discounting her after the Embassy Ball to his petulant crowing during I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face, that Higgins was simply beastly to poor Eliza. While I’m sure the music would still be great, how would My Fair Lady as whole still hold up? Would it be like Annie, Get Your Gun, where the show lives on, but not without changes to the story and the dropping of certain songs? After all, how should that final scene stand today? It’s my understanding that in Pygmalion, it’s clear that Eliza Doolittle is free of Henry Higgins, and has married Freddy Eynsford-Hill, to which the possibility of our Professor cackled with scorn. We all know (at least anyone who’s seen My Fair Lady knows), Eliza comes back to Higgin’s home/office and the film ends. What are we to make of that now?
But before discussing all of that, let me tell you what My Fair Lady is today: in a word, beautiful. It’s beautiful in it’s music, both in the melodies of Frederick Loewe, and in the interpretations by music director Andre Previn and his team of orchestrators and arrangers. Its beautiful in its filming, in it’s color. From the opening credits, one is immersed in beauty. Take a look:
All of those gorgeous flowers, dissolving from one bouquet into another, an orgy of technicolor, radiating from the screen. It was a dreary February Sunday afternoon in New England when I saw My Fair Lady, but you could feel the warmth of those flowers sitting in the theatre, just like you were in a hothouse. And again, accompanied by that glorious, glorious music. The wonderful overture setting a frenzied pace, with the melody of Higgins’ triumph, You Did It, before settling into that transcendant anthem of unrequited love, On the Street Where You Live. Whoever wrote the overture (Loewe himself? Robert Russell Bennett or Philip Lang on Broadway? Andre Previn and his staff?) knew what a great tune they had, and the orchestra plays it all the way through; this is no simple highlights of On the Street; no, you get the whole thing, complete with dramatic pause on “I won’t care if I.” The orchestra then takes on the show’s second biggest tune, Eliza’s celebratory I Could’ve Danced All Night. The music breezes on by, the strings luxuriating in Loewe’s great melody, while woodwinds dance around at very fast tempo. It’s enthralling, and just like earlier in the overture, this instrumental version pulls out the dramatic pause right where it should be, where the lyrics “I only know” would appear when sung. But this wonderful collage of musical highlights doesn’t overstay its welcome. We only get three tunes out of of the full score, before everything is wrapped up with a stirring brass fanfare and series of chords that announce, up with the cinematic curtain, let’s tell this story!
In case you’re wondering what I’m talking about, here’s the entire sequence. Warning that your computer probably won’t do it justice. Producer Jack L. Warner and director George Cukor meant for this on the big screen. And one more thing before moving on, if you’ll allow me…. just listen to that orchestra play. Recently I had been thinking about Mary Poppins Returns, and how Marc Shaiman and the music staff wanted that same big studio orchestra sound that is such a part of the original’s appeal. The new version comes close….but something’s missing. You listen to the My Fair Lady overture; there’s a sound that you just can’t recreate. Those studio musicians in 1964, who I am sure had played on many Hollywood classic musicals before….there’s confidence in knowing how to execute the material. It just can’t be redone so easily. It’s why Mary Poppins Returns doesn’t quite match Irwin Kostal’s orchestrations/musical direction from the original. And interestingly enough, Mr. Kostal was beaten for the Oscar for Music, Scoring – Adaption or Treatment to Andre Previn and My Fair Lady. As much as I love Mary Poppins, it’s hard to argue after listening to that overture. If that’s the sound of Heaven, I sure hope I’m leading a good life!
One of the reasons My Fair Lady stands out is how each song has significance to the story. Now a days, with completely sung-through shows such as Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, and Hamilton, it’s easy to believe every song in a musical has a dramatic purpose. But that hans’t always been the case. Look at The Music Man, a show I really like: Shipoopi and several of the barber shop quarter/school board songs don’t really do much to advance the narrative. Not saying they’re not enjoyable; they just don’t add to the story. Think about Singin’ in the Rain. Most every song in there is just a musical number to enjoy; it doesn’t really tell us much. Yes, Moses shows Don Lockwood taking speaking lessons (oh, if only he had Henry Higgins in Hollywood to help him. What a story that might’ve been!) But in reality, it’s just an excuse for a Gene Kelly/Donald O’Connor dance showcase.
That’s not the case with My Fair Lady. Look at how so many of the characters’ ethos are explained through song: we have barely met Alfred P. Doolittle before he launches into With a Little Bit O’Luck. Because of that routine, we now know his entire outlook on life better than when he later explains it to Higgins and Col. Pickering. We first meet Eliza Doolittle when Higgins is scrutinizing her elocution (or lack thereof) outside the theatre, . However, we don’t really come to know her until n she sings Wouldn’t It Be Loverly. That’s what introduces her as a kind, self-reliant, likable person with modest needs. Admittedly, there isn’t much to Freddy Eynsford-Hill’s character, which was probably a point of Shaw and Lerner, a commentary on the blandness of the upper class. But rather than have him explain his obsession with Eliza, why not do it in song? And of course, all of Henry Higgins’ philosophies on life (or, if you prefer, his bigotries) are showcased in his famed pattern/diatribes, Why Can’t the English, I’m an Ordinary Man and A Hymn to Him.
All you need to know about Freddy Eynsford-Hill, serenading On the Street Where Eliza lives
But the songs in My Fair Lady do more than just develop characters. They also push the narrative along, or set the stage. We are only given glimpses of Higgins’ training of Eliza, but between the Servant’s Chorus framing episodes such as Eliza with marbles in her mouth or the speaking “H”s into the burner, and Eliza’s own anthem of resistance, Just You Wait, we can tell just how grueling the process is.
The Ascot Gavotte serves a similar purpose. We know the Doolittles are of the lowest class of any characters in the show. Higgins and Col. Pickering are well-educated and professional, and the domestics in the Higgins residence all carry themselves on a level above the Doolittles. But outside of everyone scurrying from the rain after the theatre lets out, back at the very beginning of the show, prior to Ascot, we really have seen little of this fabled upper class society. Col. Pickering appears to have attended the show that first night, but Higgins definitely did not. Rather, we first encounter him lurking about outside, snooping on conversations and taking field notes. Our Professor may be well educated and speaks perfectly, but at first glance, he’s not part of the upper crust society. I take that back….he probably can be….but only when wants. He looks the part at the Embassy Ball, in a dashing suit….but that’s about it. At Ascot, he’s clearly not functioning in high societal norms. After all, he’s dressed tweed, rather than in customary gray, and his choice of hat is definitely not of the expected top variety. Do note, Col. Pickering is perfectly outfitted for the occasion….but not Prof. Henry Higgins.
At Ascot. Eliza and Col, Pickering dressed for the occasion. Not so Henry Higgins
I tend to think Higgins has a claim to society, but chooses to pass on it. We know he’s born into it; his mother is definitely part of it. Why does the distinguished professor go out of his way to not conform? There’s probably a story there….The Early Days of Henry Higgins, Professor at Large. What an idea….but I digress. The point is, when Higgins decides to take Eliza into society, to see how she will do, it’s the audience’s first look at this culture. We’ve seen the buskers and the happy-go-luckies at the bottom of society, and we’ve seen the Higgins residency….but we haven’t seen how the well-to-do- really are, not till Ascot. And so Lerner and Loewe give us the Ascot Gavotte; it’s prim and proper neoclassical melody; it’s very sarcastic lyrics poking fun at British expected manners; and it’s Bob Fosse-esque choreography (anyone else think that? Those very deliberate moves sure seem like Fosse to me!). The whole number serves a purpose of letting us know just what is this society Higgins is trying to bring Eliza into. It’s flat-out ridiculous, and it just makes you wonder, has all of Higgins’ browbeating been worth it? You make Eliza go through all those ordeals to be part of this nonsense?! But it all wouldn’t work without a song, again advancing the story. Also, just look at the way director George Cukor and cinematographer Harry Stradling jump around, with different shots. No wonder both won Oscars that year!
But where the songs in My Fair Lady really shine is not just in character development or updating the action, but in giving emotion to the moment. I already mentioned how song lets us feel Eliza’s frustration with Higgins. But then, when she finally gets it, how can you not help but break out into song? And kudos to Lerner and Loewe, for taking a verbal exercise, “the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain,” and making it into a bring- down-the-house, emotionally uplifting moment. Sitting in the theatre, I was just as exuberant as Eliza, Higgins and Pickering. I wanted to make merry with them! Similarly, how could you not feel Eliza’s sheer joy when she tells us she could’ve danced all night? Or, her complete frustration at English society, both in Higgins’ lecturing and Freddy’s longing, with Show Me? All those emotions: frustration, elation, triumph, anger, joy…the whole gamut. And it’s through song that you really feel it.
Pure elation, as Eliza successfully recites (sings) The Rain in Spain
Really, in all of My Fair Lady, there is probably only song that doesn’t add very much to the story. I’m speaking of the swan song for Alfred P. Doolittle, a Get Me to the Church On Time. It’s an excuse to give him last hurrah….and I’m okay with that. It comes at a time in the show that’s pretty much an emotional downer. Eliza has left unappreciated from the Higgins residence, but now in her fine clothes and proper manner, she can’t go back to the world of street sellers. Similarly, thanks to Higgins’ mischief, Alfred is wealthy, attired in fancy clothes…and is about to marry. Higgins has taken away their old way of life forever. What a scoundrel! I would guess Alan Jay Lerner and perhaps George Cukor felt the show needed a break from the Professor and his schemes at this point. After all, what follows is Higgins storming about, unable to understand why Eliza has left. And so, to give us a break from him (we last saw Eliza throwing a slipper at him, and he responding by damning everyone) we get Get Me to the Church On Time in between. Time-filler? Sure. Pure fun? Absolutely! So if it’s really is just an excuse to give Stanley Holloway another opportunity to clown around, then I say…play on! There are many great moments in My Fair Lady and I’ll be honest, in my longing for the upper class, Alfred P. Doolittle has never been my favorite character. But the way Get Me to the Church ends, with Doolittle and his chums staggering out of a bar, realizing its morning, and the song becoming like a dirge….it’s just tremendous. The last we see of him, he’s being carried away, laid out like a corpse, with a lily placed on his chest….I can’t think of a better farewell to his character. A throw-away number? Sure, I’ll give you that, but I can’t think of a better one!
But as beautiful as Andre Previn’s conducting of the score, and all those great Lerner and Loewe songs, they wouldn’t work if they weren’t sung well. It’s well known that Marni Nixon sang for Audrey Hepburn. Lesser known is that Bill Shirley sang On the Street Where You Live, instead of Jeremy Brett. Rex Harrison won both a Tony and an Oscar for Henry Higgins, and yes, while he pretty much talks to music, rather than sings…I wouldn’t sell him short. When you think Henry Higgins, you probably hear his bombastic scene-dominating sermons. You may hear, “But….let a woman in your life” and other egotistical pontifications. And as much as those moments fill the screen, I don’t think they are the reasons Harrison won an Oscar. No, I’d say he earned his Oscar with I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face. He stills doesn’t sing, and yes…there’s another trademark Higgins smug monologue in there. But…by the time the tune ends, there’s a different emotion in Harrison’s voice. His tone is softer, there is a definite poignancy in there. Could there even be sorrow? Once he’s done boasting that he’s “very glad she’s just a woman and so easy to forget, rather like a habit one can always break”, his tone immediately drops. What was just seconds ago a proud emphasis on the word “easy” and a swagger of breaking habits, is now a tone of resignation. It’s as if he’s having to convince himself that he still believes he doesn’t need a woman in his life. We are, of course, left to our own interpretations of what Higgins really feels. But that voice there, the way the song is resolved, this is a different Prof. Henry Higgins. Is he broken? Is he alone? Is he saddened? That’s for us to decide. But it’s a Higgins we’ve never seen, and it’s only made possible by Lerner and Loewe’s song, and Harrison’s (one-time) sensitive touch. I’m convinced that moment won him the Oscar. Take a listen.
I realize I’ve talked a great deal just about the music, but hey, it’s My Fair Lady. Higgins talks a lot too! To borrow from Eliza, “words, words, words, I’m so sick of words!” And also, it’s a musical. Of course you have to talk about the music. But My Fair Lady isn’t just beautiful to listen to, it’s GORGEOUS to look at. I’ve already talked about those wonderful flowers in the opening credits. One thing that is striking to me is that, not only did My Fair Lady and Mary Poppins premiere in the same year, not only are they both set in Edwardian London, but they were also both entirely shot on a sound stage. Not a single bit of outdoor shooting is in any of them. Originally, I was going to give the upper hand to Poppins, due to Cherry Tree Lane, with its park across the street and the whimsical ship/house of Admiral Boom. That seemed more impressive than Lady‘s street marketplace, the neighborhood where Alfred P. Doolittle avoided work, or the Higgins’ residence. But then Lady moved beyond that. With Poppins, Disney could rely on animation for a change of scenery. Not so Lady. The Ascot Opening Day….all on a soundstage. But more impressive, and a sign that Jack L. Warner was willing to spend any amount to pull off My Fair Lady, the Embassy Ball. Take a look below.
The staircases, the furniture, the palatial walls….everything proclaiming the glory of high English society at the height of the British Empire….and none of it filmed on location. Every touch created on the Warner Brothers lot. No wonder My Fair Lady saw an Oscar go to George James Hopkins for Set Design. Also nominated, not surprisingly, Mary Poppins. Again, that word, beautiful. Isn’t that what you see in that picture? And I’m not even talking about Audrey Hepburn and that gown…..more on that shortly!
But that Oscar may not have just been for the spectacular, which the Embassy Ball most certainly is. It’s also for the ordinary, or how unordinary the mundane appears. Take Henry Higgins’ library/study:
There’s so much going on. Not just books, but models. Toys, machines, graphs, instruments, artwork. Some of it we see Higgins use, like his phonographs or the device with a flame that drills Eliza to pronounce the letter “H.” Others leave us wondering. For example, there’s a portait of St. Thomas More in Higgins’ study. Why? What is it about More that inspires Higgins? We can only guess that our Professor is quite the polymath. Or perhaps its simply that Cukor and Hopkins thought it best to cram his study with anything they could imagine. It couldn’t have been cheap, but it makes its point: Higgins is a unique individual, with a thousand different interests. As such, he’s at home in this environment, and not the society he was born into. Seeing Higgins in this museum of knowledge underlines why he’s so badly out of place at Ascot. His mother is in her element there, but not son. One would have to think Freddy’s home wouldn’t be so interesting. He looks the proper role at Ascot, but we’re led to believe his intellect is only surface level.
But of course, when you’re talking beautiful and My Fair Lady, you have to discuss Cecil Beaton’s costumes. I’ve said enough; let’s let the pictures do the talking here.
Col. Pickering and Eliza arrive at Ascot
Eliza, Higgins and Pickering arrive at the Embassy Ball
Everyone remembers the spectacular costumes (and they are just that!) for the moments of high society, but Beaton deserves credit for how well he attired everyone, from all the levels of English class shown.
Alfred P. Dolittle, looking appropriately dirty and clothes a mis-match
Higgins’ typical attire, sorely out of place at Ascot.
Eliza Dolittle, as we first meet her
Eliza Dolittle, after being trained for society, in the outfit she wears when she leaves Higgins.
Much of what I’ve written are things I learned from watching My Fair Lady only just last week. The music is what I was previously really familiar with. And of course, I remembered Higgins’ look and many of those wonderful costumes…though I don’t know if I appreciated just how effective they were. There’s the saying that “Clothes make the man.” Well, while Higgins believes speech makes the man, there’s no question, the clothes the characters wear define them. It’s not just Eliza’s new manners that separate her from her old crowd in the marketplace; it’s also the clothes she’s wearing, as seen in the final picture above. And though Higgins speaks as well, if not better, than the rest of the aristocratic set gathered at Ascot, his refusal to wear proper attire (also see above) sets him an outsider. I’ve already spoken about that. It’s time to talk about Audrey.
Jack L. Warner with his stars
It’s all been well discussed how Julie Andrews was the original Eliza Doolittle on Broadway, and how Jack L. Warner passed her over for the movie, because he felt he needed an established star. In some respects, its understandable. I’ve already extolled the sets and the costumes. I don’t know much Warner paid Lerner and Loewe for the show, but the point is, this was a huge investment. He needed some assurance it would work. Julie Andrews, having never been in a movie, was a big risk. As Ben Mankiewicz pointed out in the Fathom Events/TCM showing, this derailed Andrews’ career to such a great extent, Walt Disney immediately signed her for Mary Poppins, for which she won the Oscar for Best Actress.
Audrey Hepburn was not nominated for Best Actress. Perhaps some of this has to do with the fact that she doesn’t sing. Before I never really appreciated Ms. Hepburn in the role. She was fine, she looked great, but she didn’t sing. Harrison dominates every scene he is in, and Hepburn….well, she looks pretty. Terrible thinking on my part…and completely incorrect. And that leads into the larger discussion of, in today’s society does My Fair Lady still work? Is it still necessary, or should it be retired as a jewel of the past? I’ll talk about that, as I talk about just how much Audrey Hepburn brings to the film.
And in doing so, I have to talk about my old boyhood hero, Prof. Henry Higgins.
Let’s go to the first time we encounter our leads. Outside the theater, Higgins writing down everything Eliza says, and then decrying to Col Pickering Why Can’t the English learn to speak. Granted, Higgins is a boor to Eliza, but that’s not what bothered me during my recent viewing. Rather, what bothered me was just how much an elitist he is. Higgins rails against all other forms of English that doesn’t measure up to his ideals. Years ago, I would’ve approved. I was almost an English major in college before focusing exclusively on music. Then, after going through academia and its demands for clear writing, I built up a pride in speaking correctly. But at what price? There are no minorities in My Fair Lady; every character is a white Londoner. Class is what separates them. To Higgins, it’s speech that causes that divide, and he contends that through his training, the walls can come down. But what bothers me watching in 2019 is the notion that Higgins’ notion of the English language is the “be all, end all.” I could see why he we would think that in his time, when Great Britain seemed the world’s greatest empire. And I can still see that opinion being held in 1964.
But in 2019, it just reeks of superiority. I’m not going to call it white supremacy because that’s extreme. There’s nothing that shows Higgins as a racist. But…in 2019, in a multicultural society, the idea of propping up one form of language as the only correct option just doesn’t seem acceptable. I’ve been thinking the same about academia lately. Do we need to loosen the standard for what is considered acceptable English, so that more can be accommodated ? One wonders how many Elizas a Henry Higgins discounts, just because their speech doesn’t meet his standards. There’s a line in Why Can’t the English about how the moment Eliza speaks, she’s already been judged. That classicism, which I wouldn’t have even thought about as recently as probably 5 years ago….that now bothers me in watching My Fair Lady in 2019.
The Professor, at their first meeting, showing Eliza the “mistakes”in her speech
There is quite a bit of that judgment in My Fair Lady, such as the clear distaste Higgins’ butler has when he shows Alfred P. Doolittle in. And its clear Higgins and Pickering both don’t consider Alfred to be their equal. But here’s the thing…..does My Fair Lady really prove Higgins’ theories to be correct? Let’s look at when Eliza is taken out for the first time in society, to Ascot. She may commit social faux pas by her choice of conversation but really…..she’s the only person in the Higgins’ box who has something different to say. As we find out, the perfectly mannered Freddy Eynsford-Hill has nothing to offer. And later, after Eliza finds herself unappreciated for the triumph at the Ball, she stands up for herself. Both that night and the next day at Mrs. Higgins’ house, Eliza lets Higgins know exactly what she thinks. What’s interesting, and perhaps bothersome is, Eliza was just as feisty when we first meet her, sparring verbally with Higgins in her cockney accent. But it is only when she spars with Higgins using his English, that he finds her a worthy adversary. As he proclaims, “I like you this way.” Has Eliza really changed, or is it just her way of speaking? We can still question whether Higgins actually respects her, but he holds does her in a different stature… but it’s only because of how she speaks. Has Higgins really grown accustomed to Eliza’s face….or is it because her speech is now acceptable?
It’s that sense of judgment that gives me pause about My Fair Lady today. Higgins, of course, is overbearing to to Eliza. His speech is too often insulting. But in his teaching, I give him more leeway. It’s questionable if he cares about Eliza or does he just view her as a professional challenge. Yet somehow, he does make a connection with her. Take the moment right before The Rain in Spain. Col. Pickering begs Higgins to call it a night. Eliza is clearly exhausted. But not only does Higgins not berate her, he inspires her. He speaks calmly and convincingly, telling her he knows how hard this is, but also extolling why it’s important, and what benefit it will be to her when she accomplishes it. And lo and behold…she gets it. That’s why I can’t write Henry Higgins off as a complete monster. He’s a boor, a classist, and a harsh task master….but he’s also a great teacher, and not one who completely doesn’t care. Just as he inspires Eliza to accomplish The Rain in Spain, he also tells Col. Pickering, just before they are to leave for the Ball, that Eliza matters greatly. Yes, I know….he then completely ignores her when it’s all over. What can I say, the Professor is a man of contradictions. But there is something in there that’s noble. It may be a small part of him, but he’s not completely without merit. Watching My Fair Lady in 2019 lowers my childhood admiration of Prof. Henry Higgins. But at the same time, he’s not completely to be shown to the dustbin. While not a complete hero, he does have his moments for good. After all, just as Higgins is wrong to judge people completely, so to I’m not about to judge him the same.
So if Henry Higgins was what made My Fair Lady in the past, then it’s time to give credit for why the film is beloved to me today….and that’s Audrey Hepburn. No, she’s not singing. And yes, the first hour or so of the film, she seems a cartoon character. Her cackling and yelling seems just putty in Higgins’ hands, an easy softball served up for him to knock out of the park. No wonder as a youth I gave her little credence. She was just something for Higgins to play with, while he had all those show-stopping monologue/songs. After all, she’s got cute songs like Wouldn’t It Be Loverly or Just You Wait, while Higgins is raging, Why Can’t the English and I’m an Ordinary Man. And with someone less than Audrey Hepburn, perhaps Eliza would’ve remained in Higgins’ shadow. But… we’re talking about Audrey Hepburn, and when she correctly speaks “the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain,” it’s not Henry Higgins and his methods that triumphed….it’s all about Eliza Doolittle (despite how much Higgins wants all the credit later). I’m sure other actresses could play the role fine…..but would they beam like Hepburn did? She is convincing beyond all doubt when she starts to realize she is speaking correctly. It melted my heart sitting in the theatre. I was completely beguiled. I was no longer watching Audrey Hepburn playing a role; rather, I was watching poor, beleaguered Eliza Doolittle accomplish that which just earlier, seemed impossible. Her joy was not just believable, it encompassed everyone watching. Sure, Higgins and Pickering danced and celebrated with Eliza, but the moment was hers. And when Mrs. Pearce tries to put Eliza to bed, when she Could of Danced All Night instead, her elation is ours. It doesn’t matter that it’s Marni Nixon’s voice; everything Audrey Hepburn has done has completely sucked us in. It’s not Higgins who has done this, it’s Eliza, and we could go on dancing with her.
The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly in the Plain….and melts our hearts
Eliza’s triumph is still far from complete. After all, the sequence following I Could’ve Danced All Night is the Ascot Opening Day, where Eliza’s conversational skills and proper decorum are clearly, painfully not established. But though that whole sequence is both awkward and funny, it is Audrey Hepburn’s talents that make it so. Look at the picture earlier in this blog, of Freddy, Eliza and Higgins watching an Ascot race. Look at how expressive Hepburn’s face is. Higgins doesn’t seem to care. Freddy is properly amused, to the limits decorum allowed. But Eliza is so completely enthralled. How could you not expect her to proclaim, “Come on Dover, move your bloomin’ arse!” With another actress, that whole thing might have been unbelievable; with Hepburn, though, it all seems natural.
But Eliza’s crowning moment, the point were everything came together for me, happens right before Intermission. I’m talking about that glorious sequence when Eliza descends the stairs of the Higgins’ residence, ready to go to the Ball. Watch it before I go on. Everything is perfect. Not the least of which is the music. Kudos to Andre Previn, as I Could’ve Danced All Night swells in intimate strings. And there she is, the street market flower girl now in an incredible gown, jewels draped upon her, her hair liked a crown. When Col. Pickering utters, “Miss Doolittle, you look beautiful,” he speaks for all of us. My gosh, I’m getting emotionally just typing this. And it’s not just her gentile answer of “Thank you, Colonel Pickering.” It’s the way she descends those stairs. She’s practically floating! Eliza is more a lady than probably even Higgins would’ve thought possible. For me, it’s the most magical moment in the film, and I do not lie when I say I was completely choked up watching it. I found my eyes watering and lumps in my throat. All my reservations about My Fair Lady in 2019 were gone. All of Higgins’ misogyny and classism, all was forgotten, at least temporarily. Why? Audrey Hepburn, that’s why! “Thank you, Colonel Pickering” is all she says in the sequence, but it is, without a doubt, her moment. Her grace, her beauty, her carriage, her demeanor; it makes the scene the emotional peak of the film. And how does it end? Higgins walking back, to offer his arm. For one moment, however fleeting, Eliza Doolittle is not his toy, his student, his wager….is she his equal? We know it doesn’t last, but in the moment, none of that matters. We’ve seen all Eliza’s been through; this moment belongs to her and her alone. If you wanted to make the case Audrey Hepburn deserved an Oscar nomination, you’d be hard pressed to find a stronger reason than that scene.
The best picture I could find on-line of My Fair Lady’s grandest moment
Audrey Hepburn is also responsible for changing my opinion of Prof. Henry Higgins. I’ve mentioned before how Higgins, Pickering and the domestics celebrate their triumph, without giving any credence to Eliza. What I had forgotten till I saw the film again is how Eliza is present during that entire sequence. She walks in by herself to the house, no longer on Higgins’ arm. When she walks into the study, the celebration is in full order. And most damning, there are times when it appears the celebrants are going to turn to her….but they never do. Eliza has no lines during the scene, which more than makes up for in her following blow-up with Higgins. But silent though she may be, she dominates the scene. Sure, Pickering is toasting Higgins, and yes, Higgins in his trademark style tells us how the Embassy Ball went down. It’s then that we find out what Zoltan Karpathy concluded, that Eliza’s English was so perfect that she had to be a Hungarian Princess. It’s quite the moment for the Professor. He won his wager, he successfully passed a flower girl off as a Lady, and he even outwitted a rival. This should be the celebration of his greatness, of the triumph o this methods. And if you listen to the soundtrack, it is just that.
But thanks to Audrey Hepburn, the triumph rings hollow. There she is, in the background, but there nevertheless. Still in her gorgeous gown and jewelry, and still carrying herself with perfect posture. But the look on her face is heartbreaking. She’s a specter looming over the celebration, making sure we all know it’s incomplete. The few times she thinks she’s about to be given credit, we see a hopeful, nervous smile….and then it’s gone. It’s devastating, and it only works because of the pure expressiveness of Hepburn. Kudos to her and director George Cukor, for the juxtaposition of Higgins’ major key triumph (thank you Lerner and Loewe) with the crushing disappointment and abandonment painted painfully upon Eliza’s face. And there it goes again…..the lowering of my boyhood admiration of Prof. Henry Higgins. From listening to the soundtrack, I knew Eliza was left out of the celebration. But it was seeing it, seeing her hover in their midst, invisible and unappreciated, that hit it home. For every spark of humanity in Henry Higgins, there’s that much more to scorn.
So what is My Fair Lady in 2019? Like I said, a beautiful film. Beautiful to look at, beautiful to listen to, and still an incredibly enjoyable work of art. But what it is not is the story of the The Great Professor. Don’t get me wrong, Henry Higgins is still entertaining. His words can be obnoxious, but they still cause a laugh. I don’t think he was ever a hero, but to me, he was the center of My Fair Lady. That’s no longer the case. Part of that is the way society has changed the view. His treatment of others and his elitism can’t be excused. But just as society has changed my views of Henry Higgins, so it has brought about a greater appreciation for Audrey Hepburn. Rex Harrison sings…..well, no he doesn’t, he talks to music, but it’s his voice. Audrey doesn’t sing, she doesn’t chew on the scenes like Harrison did, but she towers over the production. From her feistiness to her desolation, her grace to her triumph….it is she who dominates My Fair Lady. Let Higgins spew line after line after line. He’s almost a one-trick pony. The few moments he lets his guard down are effective (inspiring Eliza before The Rain in Spain) and his obvious deflation at the end of I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face. But let not word count be confused with greatness. The show is entitled My Fair Lady, and that’s no coincidence. It’s Eliza’s story through and through, and I see that now. I’m not saying Rex didn’t deserve his Oscar, and of course, Julie Andrews deserved hers….but Audrey should have at at least been nominated. Can we agree on that?
And finally….the ending. My understanding is that, in Pygmalion, George Bernard Shaw made it clear Eliza is now on her own. She has married Freddy, she’s not going back to Higgins. That’s not how My Fair Lady ends. BUT……the ending either George Cukor or Alan Jay Lerner gives us is far from definitive. We see that Eliza has returned, and Higgins is glad of it. He demands of her where his slippers are….but we don’t see Eliza actually fetch them. It’s also a leap to say there’s a romantic relationship there. While Higgins admits to feelings for Eliza, I’m not prepared to say that being accustomed to her face is the same as love. It could simply be familiarity, and recognizing the spark her presence brought to his routine. Not to mention there’s what is unsaid. Higgins is in midlife and lives alone, a “confirmed old bachelor.” And he invites another confirmed, old bachelor to live with him, Col. Pickering. Nothing in My Fair Lady suggests that there is something more between Higgins and Pickering…but then again, the film is from 1964. If there was a relationship, it surely would not have been shown. That’s all speculation, of course. But I think it’s just as much speculation to assume Higgins and Eliza will become romantically involved.
So why does Eliza come back? Sure, I’ll speculate. She obviously feels something for him. I’m sure there is some degree of gratitude for all she has learned. Perhaps she is interested in learning more about the science of elocution, and wants to become a Professor just like him. And what a story that would’ve made! Higgins, who sings about how women ruin your lives, training a woman professor at a time when women weren’t even allowed to vote. And then Eliza proves to be even better than Higgins! Perhaps plays a critical role in the upcoming First World War? The possibilities are endless!
But here’s the thing….Cukor and Lerner leaves it to you. There’s no need to assume Eliza is returning to submit to Henry Higgins. He’s glad she’s back, but instantly covers it up by giving an order. She takes a few steps forward…..and that’s it. You decide what you’d like. And that, my friends, is why My Fair Lady still works in 2019. We don’t know what happens next. But just because she’s back, there’s no need to assume Prof. Henry Higgins is triumphant. We saw earlier how hollow his victory was. And now, the man who bragged he would never let a woman in his life, is visibly relieved she is in it….in some undetermined form. And with that freedom, I have no guilt in saying My Fair Lady is still wonderful today. Viewed from a different perspective, yes; and Henry Higgins no longer reigns supreme. But My Fair Lady is still a triumph….and even better than I remembered. Different, and better.
Oscars almost all around. Jack L. Warner for Best Picture, Rex Harrison for Best Actor, and George Cukor for Best Director. Sadly, only Audrey Hepburn is empty-handed
Now if you’ll excuse I need find whatever happened to my slippers!
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