My Favorite Movies: The Graduate (1967)

If you line up all the great American movies side by side, it is easy to tell where the line is divided between what can be considered classic and what is modern. There is a distinct difference between the movies of classic Hollywood before the late 60s and the ones that came out after the popularity of movies like Bonnie and Clyde, In the Heat of the Night, and The Graduate. There is no one specific reason for The Graduate being as monumental as it is. I think it simply hit the right note for a lot of people.

It also helped create the beginnings of what would essentially become the American version of the New Wave cinema movement that was rushing through Europe earlier that decade, but took a while to reach our side of the water. The movement was basically a rebellion against traditional movie-making. Boundaries were questioned and limits were tested. Our version led to movies like Midnight Cowboy and Easy Rider, but it did, more or less, begin with The Graduate.

Mike Nichols was pretty young for being an Oscar-winning director, though he had made the hugely influential Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? a year earlier. Only in his mid-thirties at the time, Nichols was at the right age to create something timelessly youthful. This is one of the rare films that truly understand the younger generation without talking down to it. I first saw it at a young age, which is when it makes the strongest impact. It stuck with me and it still holds up after years of repeat viewings.

This really is the sort of movie that should be dated, but isn’t. The movie’s style is undeniably from the 60s, yet it presents itself without flash or grandeur. Probably the most dated thing about it is the music from Simon and Garfunkel, which itself has become timeless. The film’s soundtrack is the first album I ever bought, and songs like “Mrs. Robinson,” “Scarborough Fair” and “The Sound of Silence” remain favorites.

People who either haven’t seen the movie or who only saw it once and have allowed their memories to conform to pop culture references, think that this is a story about a young man’s romance with an old woman. That is not so. This is not Harold and Maude, nor a romance in any way. It does begin with an affair between a twenty year-old college graduate and one of his parent’s friends, but does not exclusively revolve around it. In fact, the affair is only part of the story in forms of suggestion and implication and the word sex is never uttered.

The affair is merely a setting to more clearly showcase the loneliness and confusion that Dustin Hoffman’s character goes through, as well as serving as a catalyst for his relationship with the Katharine Ross character. Benjamin Braddock is the young man in question, and he is the everyman to which all teenagers can relate. He is frightened by prospects of his future, constantly infuriated by his parents, and incredibly eager to do something wild.

That is when Mrs. Robinson shows up, barreling into Ben’s room during a party one night and demanding that he drive her home. Once there, she tells him he must stay until her husband gets home at an undetermined time. This leads to the immortal quote, “Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me.” She just laughs at him, “The idea never occurred to me, but I’m flattered.” She’s lying.

In recent years, I have come to feel sorry for Mrs. Robinson. Maybe I’m just getting older, because she is obviously the representative of the older generation, just as Ben is for the young. Anne Bancroft’s performance is a delicate mixture of coldness and the desire for attention. This woman is trying to bury herself beneath any relationship she can get her hands on. A telling scene is when Ben insists that the two have a real conversation. She suggests they discuss art, before stating she knows nothing about the subject. He then begins prying about her husband, and when he discovers they met in college, he asks what she majored in.

“Art,” she replies. I can’t decide if this is the truth or more burying, nor which one is more pathetic. She is clearly meant to be the villain of the picture because she does everything in her power to keep Benjamin and her daughter Elaine apart, even though they have grown quite fond of each other. Quite frankly, would you want your daughter running around with a guy you know first-hand is a pervert? This is supposed to make her mean, but I think it makes her real.

I have never felt any real connection between Ben and Elaine. He seems to fall for her mostly because she is much sweeter, nicer, and more pleasant than her mother. The sudden contrast is masquerading as love. I remember that the first time I saw The Graduate, I cheered for Ben and his quest for Elaine’s hand. Now, I just think he’s stupid. I can understand what leads him to the wild behavior that drives his actions for the second half of the film. Mostly, his parents are to blame. They are portrayed as extremely obnoxious people who have no time nor desire to really listen to their son.

Consider the scene of Ben’s birthday party, during which he is surrounded by his parents’ friends he doesn’t like, and forced to demonstrate his birthday present: a diving suit. He lunges into the pool and sits at the bottom, presumably waiting for things to change. That is why Mrs. Robinson’s proposal seems like the perfect way to get him out of his little funk. It seems to me that he never gives Mrs. Robinson due credit because she keeps to herself so much that her actions towards the end of the film come across as more cruel than they probably are. She did, after all, spark Ben’s fascination with her daughter, and she gave him a real purpose.

He is still a very selfish, misguided guy, though. He throws away his entire life to chase after this girl he only had one date with. His parents did spend all that money on his education and really did have only the best in mind for him. Other adults are equally dismissed, even though there probably was a good career in plastics. Youth would rather be free of authority than stuck in a life-long routine. That is why I see this movie as more of a cautionary tale than an inspirational one, though it presents its message subtly.

At the end of the film, Ben convinces Elaine to run away with him. Within moments, they are bored with each other. This proves that rebellion is not triumph and infatuation is not love. That’s the way I see it, and others would be pleased to argue with me. That’s the beauty of the film. It presents the basic, simple facts of the case and lets the viewer fill in the emotional blanks. You may find yourself relating to Mrs. Robinson, or cheering for Ben, or even despising all of the characters involved. Any way you see it, each viewing will still be just as fresh, interesting, and funny as it was last time.