In the Heat of the Night

In this 40th Annual Academy Award Best Picture winner, directed by Norman Jewison, a black Philadelphian detective gets caught up in a murder investigation in the racist south. Virgil Tibbs, played by… well, they call him MISTER Poitier!, is mistaken for a criminal by Police Chief Bill Gillespie. He is then, through odd circumstances, asked to stick around and partner-up with Gillespie. The two don’t exactly hit it off immediately, but slowly overcome their prejudices as their respect for one another grows. Like Poitier’s other two films that year, “To Sir, with Love” and “Guess Who's Coming to Dinner,” this movie is fueled by the racial tension it explores. 

However, another film was released in 1967, and it deserves another look. “The Graduate” stars Dustin Hoffman as a recent college graduate, Benjamin Braddock; Anne Bancroft as a seductive older woman, Mrs. Robinson; and Katharine Ross as Mrs. Robinson’s daughter, Elaine. Benjamin returns from college to his white-collar family’s home in California with no sense of direction and uneasiness of the uncertainness of his future. After being forced to bear his parents’ coordinated graduation party and an onslaught of congratulatory cheek-pinches and unsolicited pieces of career advice like, “I just want to say one word to you. Just one word… Are you listening?  …’plastics,’” he is asked to give Mrs. Robinson a lift home. Once at Mrs. Robinson’s house, she insists that he accompanies her inside and then in a quite forward and almost desperate act of “seduction,” strips down and throws out an open invitation. The two spend the rest of the summer in hotel rooms, and between visits, Benjamin lounges around poolside or in front of the television as the realization that something might be missing from his life slowly begins to dawn on him.

This film has a lot going on, and Director Mike Nichols is to thank for much of it. His film was ranked as high as 7 on American Film Institute’s “100 Years…100 Movies” series. He brought a level of passion to the film that went way beyond normal directing duties. For example, he felt so strongly about the music in the film, he battled producers and sacrificed his first casting choice for Mrs. Robinson, Doris Day, in order to secure that the music of Simon and Garfunkel remain dominant in the film. 

From a technical standpoint, Nichols owned it. He utilized a long telescopic lens and straight-on camera angle during the film’s climax to create the optical illusion that Benjamin wasn’t gaining ground during his sprint toward Elaine’s wedding. This served as a brilliant metaphor for everything that had come before in Benjamin’s journey. Throughout the film, camera angles are used to counter audience expectations. Imagery of Benjamin being submerged in water helps communicate his overwhelmed and static state. “I knew that Mike Nichols was a young director who went in for a lot of camera. In fact, I told my operator and my assistants, 'You fellows be prepared because you’re going to do some way-out shots,’” said Cinematographer Robert Surtees.  For one shot, involving Benjamin jumping into a swimming pool in full scuba gear, a special cameraman was hired and forced to rehearse for two days. Influenced by European filmmakers, Surtees and the “New Hollywood” director envisioned the look of the film as more “art-house” than “Oscar-nominated,” (though he would win Best Director for the film) as they rewrote the book on cinematography.

Another strongpoint is the film’s cast. In an odd way, Mel Brooks actually played a key role in this. Nichols had exhausted Hollywood’s cache of available leading men and things were beginning to seem hopeless. In the original novel, Benjamin is described as a tall blue-eyed, blond-haired WASP. Nichols was more interested in finding an underdog than a track star. Here’s part of conversation between Nichols and Robert Redford during the casting process: "Well, let's put it this way - have you ever struck out with a girl?” asked Nichols." "What do you mean?" responded Redford. "That's precisely my point," said Nichols.

Hoffman was trepidatious about moving away from New York’s Off-Broadway theatre world. “I’m immediately feeling miserable,” he said. “I just have bad feelings about the whole thing. This is not the part for me. I’m not supposed to be in movies.” However, he had been wooed into film by Brooks and the script to “The Producers.” Brooks was familiar with “The Graduate” as his wife, the already-cast Bancroft, had been reading it quite a bit around the house. Brooks saw no harm in letting Hoffman go out to L.A. to screen-test because he was sure Hoffman didn’t stand a chance in hell. Hoffman auditioned and would later refer to the entire experience as “a Jewish nightmare.” When the screen-test concluded, Hoffman went around shaking hands and thanking the crew. When he got to the propman, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and spilled New York subway tokens all over the floor. They both dropped to pick them up, and the propman handed over his share and said, “Here, kid. You’re going to need these.” But Hoffman’s nervousness and awkwardness was just what Nichols was looking for. 

"So old Elaine Robinson got started in a Ford."

My favorite aspect of the movie is the music. “The Graduate” is the film that shaped how modern films utilize pop music. Before 1967, films would either solely use an originally composed score or record a song for the film, and then release it for radio play. The film includes "The Sounds of Silence," "Scarborough Fair,” "Mrs. Robinson," "The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine" and "April Come She Will." Paul Simon was originally reluctant about contributing to the film, but eventually presented a song, “Mrs. Roosvelt” (about Eleanor Roosevelt), that would become the classic “Mrs. Robinson."  

Photo by Richard Avedon.

“April Come She Will” is one of my all time favorites. In it, we hear the changing of the seasons; feel the weight of age and the loss of time. With only acoustic guitar and a single voice, the song isn’t simple, but direct. Like the montage it scores, it summarizes a dichotomy of love and simultaneous emptiness. During the montage, Benjamin walks in and out of each day of his affair with Mrs. Robinson, but with each new shot of Benjamin, something more is lost behind his eyes. That look of loss might be his draining complacency. That scene drew me into the story and helped make a film that could be misconstrued as just a light-hearted bedroom romp, into a real look at the stalemate that can consume a young man with no direction. I was that guy for a long time. I was that guy through most of my twenties. There was a period in my life when I watched “The Graduate” once a week. Some scenes made me giggle uncontrollably; others felt like they were out of a horror film. I’m now five weeks away from graduating and standing at monumental crossroads in my life, and I watched this film again for the first time since attending college. I’m still laughing at the more comical scenes, and cringing at others. Some films wear their release date on their sleeve; some find and explore themes that are universal. For me, “The Graduate” passes the test of time.