One of the most intense debates I ever observed in an online forum had nothing to do with politics or religion or race or any hot-button issues. Instead, it centered around whether or not it was a mistake to cast Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle in the film version of “My Fair Lady.”
On one side of the debate is Team Julie Andrews, which considered it an injustice of grand proportions that she was denied the chance to recreate her Broadway performance for the Warner Bros. film production. On the other side was Team Audrey Hepburn, who insisted their favorite star was perfect for the part even though her singing was dubbed by Marni Nixon.
I have no complaints with Audrey Hepburn’s presence in “My Fair Lady” – if anything, I considered having her on screen as the least of the film’s problems.
Yes, “My Fair Lady” is a wonderfully produced film – Harry Stradling’s cinematography and Cecil Beaton’s costuming and production design coupled with the glorious Lerner and Loewe score offers a feast for the eyes and ears. The performances are across-the-board splendid – and film buffs with a keen eye can spot old-time character actors including Henry Daniell, Alan Napier and Grady Sutton in uncredited bit parts.
But while I like “My Fair Lady,” I can’t say that I love it. For all its style, the substance leaves me cold. Perhaps it is because there is an obvious sense of artificiality to the proceedings – director George Cukor allowed the film to keep the theatricality of its setting rather than open it up for on-location London scenes. The key segments of the Ascot race or “The Street Where You Live” were obviously studio-bound – and for a film made on a then-record $17 million budget, it is strange that “My Fair Lady” looks like a filmed play rather a cinematic extravaganza.
By contemporary standards, the misogynistic badgering of Rex Harrison’s Henry Higgins to Audrey Hepburn’s Eliza Doolittle often comes across as nasty rather than amusing. However, this unpleasantness results in one brief but astonishing moment that affirms the casting of Hepburn – when they are leaving for the embassy ball, Higgins walks out ahead of Eliza, oblivious that good manners requires that he escort her. Eliza looks down momentarily with a painful expression, clearly upset at his thoughtless behavior. It takes a few second before he recognizes his error and properly escorts her outside. Hepburn’s grace and beauty – she was never more exquisite on-screen – cannot hide the brief pang of hurt in Higgins’ faux pas, and for that stunning moment “My Fair Lady” feels like a real movie with real people rather than a theatrical romp.
As for Julie Andrews – well, she did okay for herself without being involved in this film, and she had the last laugh when she accepted a Golden Globe Award as the star of “Mary Poppins” and mischievously included Jack Warner among her thanks.