AFI #17: The Graduate (1967)

This is a version of a review airing on ABC Radio Ballarat and South West Victoria on July 24, 2020, and ABC Central Victoria on September 7, 2020.

This is part of a series of articles reviewing the American Film Institute's Top 100 Films, as unveiled in 2007. Why am I doing this? Because the damned cinemas are closed and I have to review something.

(PG) ★★★★★

Director: Mike Nichols.

Cast: Dustin Hoffman, Anne Bancroft, Katharine Ross, William Daniels, Murray Hamilton, Elizabeth Wilson, Buck Henry, Brian Avery, Norman Fell.

He didn't see the diver coming.

In the introduction of his potentially bullshit book Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, Peter Biskind notes that two films in 1967 "sent tremors through the industry" - Bonnie And Clyde and The Graduate.

The former mixed violence and impotence to create two unforgettable and never-before-seen characters (but more on that when we get to #42). The latter was a laugh-out-loud lightning-in-a-bottle satire that became a cultural phenomenon, striking a chord with audiences - especially young people - unlike any film before.

President of Embassy Pictures Joseph E Levine marvelled in 1968 that "wherever we’ve played it, whatever the weather, it’s a sell-out attraction". 

"And people have been coming back two and three times to see it again," continued Levine. "I haven’t seen anything like this in all the years I’ve been in the business. It's absolutely incredible.” 

In the end, it fell short of The Sound Of Music's box office record at the time, but it remains in the top 25 films of all time in North America when adjusted for inflation. It won six British Film Awards, five Golden Globes and a best director Oscar for Mike Nichols. It even produced a Billboard #1 song.

But why was this film about a college graduate caught in a love triangle between his parents' friend and her daughter such a hit? And why is it still revered today?

As The New Yorker wrote in '68, just seven months after its release, The Graduate hit that sweet spot between critics and average punters. "Its sensational profits suggest that Hollywood can have both its cake and its art," wrote Jacob R Brackman. "The Graduate seems to be telling us that the public has been under-rated. Due weight having been given to such factors as economic achievement, popularity at different age and social levels, and critical reception by mass and elite media, it is clearly the biggest success in the history of the movies."

Unlike any film before, The Graduate spoke to young people. "It’s come to be seen as the first 'serious' movie targeted at the baby boomers, who were just coming of age," wrote Vox in a 50th anniversary re-appraisal. Nichols' film, especially in its first third, understood the weight of expectation the teens and 20-somethings of that time felt bearing down on them; the level of judgement that awaited their success or failure, the indecision that wracked their lives as they tried to make sure they took exactly the right first step on their path to a better tomorrow. 

In its second act, the film showed that those choices have profound consequences, that pretty and polite suburban America is not the moral bastion it pretends to be, and that the values of the parents were not the values of their offspring.

"Never before had a high-profile Hollywood film taken such a candid look at sex in the suburbs, or focused on a more unlikely trio," wrote David Sterritt in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die. "If any movie hammered the last nail into the coffin of mid-century 'momism', this was it. Neither motherhood, suburbia, nor the suffocating fog of postwar middle-class mores would ever seem quite the same."

And in the final act, all bets were off. The future is a mess, young people don't know what they're doing, and love, lust and sex will fuck you in the end.

"You're right - waxing is better than shaving, I can see that now."

All of this is told in a prescient mix of the awkward and the absurd. Nichols' direction and Robert Surtees' cinematography are great at getting the point across. A welcome home party for Benjamin (Hoffman) featuring only his parents' friends has the camera right up in his face, while there are numerous uses of water to symbolise Benjamin's state of mind - his parents literally hold him under as he is forced to demonstrate his new scuba suit in the family pool, but later after shagging Mrs Robinson (Bancroft), he's literally floating (and says as much). In one magnificent cut, Benjamin pushes himself up onto a lilo, and (through the magic of editing) lands on Mrs Robinson, post-coitus. And as the film builds to its conclusion, Nichols ramps up the tension with bustling scenes, constant movement, and Benjamin seemingly lost in a storm of his own creating.

Hoffman's career-making turn as the nervous worrywart-turned-crazed stalker is a highlight. His character arc is extreme, but Hoffman makes the transition convincing - the same guy who squeaks nervously (and hilariously) while chatting with Mr Robinson (Hamilton) is definitely the same guy who won't leave Elaine alone until she agrees to marry him. He makes all the inadequacies, fears, passions, confusions, pressures, and idiocy of youth real.

Equally good is Bancroft as the alcoholic mom-next-door Mrs Robinson. The archetype she created is now a jokey stereotype - it's Stifler's mum, and it's Stacy's mum. But back here at the source, she's a fascinating and multi-faceted character. She's a woman whose fire went out long ago, snuffed out by a shotgun wedding. She's not even trying to reclaim anything through her tryst with Benjamin - it seems to barely even alleviate her boredom. But the affair is hers, and Benjamin is hers, in the sense that a car or a coat is hers. And when the prospect of Benjamin getting entangled with her daughter Elaine (Ross) arises, she strikes, like a cobra. The fire hasn't quite gone out - but it's reborn as anger. 

"Well, here is to you, Mrs. Robinson,” wrote Roger Ebert when revisiting the film for its 30th anniversary. "You’ve survived your defeat at the hands of that insufferable creep, Benjamin, and emerged as the most sympathetic and intelligent character in The Graduate."

"Fine, Roger Ebert likes you better. Congratulations."

While Benjamin's character and his stalkerish tendencies haven't aged well, it hasn't diminished the power or importance of the film - it's just re-calibrated its message a little. It's still a potent movie, and still hilarious. "Plastics" remains the best one-word punchline in the history of cinema, while "You're the most attractive of all my parents' friends" is an outstanding line for many reasons (that also happens to be funny). 

But if there's one lasting legacy of The Graduate, it's its soundtrack. As Sterritt put it in 1001 Movies..., Nichols' idea to use Simon & Garfunkel hits plus some new tunes from the duo (most notably the tune Mrs Robinson) was a unique trendsetter that "used (Simon & Garfunkel's) popularity as an additional selling point and, equally important, a signal that this film would plug into youth-culture sensibilities more directly and sympathetically than any other of its time". It's strange now to think that no one had really used contemporary music to such powerful effect, but there's a first time for everything, and this is that first time.

The sexual politics have aged, but are still relevant - just in different ways than first intended. But The Graduate was always much more than just "Mrs Robinson, you're trying to seduce me". Artfully directed, beautifully shot, and absurdly hilarious, it boasts two great performances, an excellent script, a zeitgeisty soundtrack, an outstanding ambiguous ending, and a sympathetic eye on the concerns of youth while poking a satirical stick at suburban morals.