Beverly Gray is the author of the new book Seduced by Mrs. Robinson: How The Graduate Became the Touchstone of a Generation. She also has written biographies of Roger Corman and Ron Howard. She has written for the Hollywood Reporter and teaches at the UCLA Extension Writers' Program. Her blog can be found at beverlyinmovieland.com. She lives in Santa Monica, California.
Q: Why did you decide to write about The Graduate, and what
do you see as its legacy 50 years after it first appeared?
A: I’ve long been interested in films from 1967, the films
honored at the 1968 Oscars. It was the time I, as a young person, got
interested in movies, many of which would be honored with accolades. It was the
first time that movies had resonance for me as a young person living in
America. There was violence, with Bonnie and Clyde; civil rights, with In the
Heat of the Night and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner; and moving beyond our
parents, with The Graduate.
I was especially intrigued by The Graduate. It was not
expected to be a movie blockbuster but a fun, sexy little comedy. But it
happened to tap into the Baby Boom generation—not only the war in Vietnam,
though it was not in the movie, but also something about the discomfort of
young people [trying to] move beyond the life their parents were [planning] for
them—so people like me latched onto it.
Q: What about its legacy?
A: It’s interesting to me as well, of the movies I mentioned
above, some have left a legacy. There’s Cool Hand Luke – “What we have here is
a failure to communicate” – and Bonnie and Clyde, which upped the ante on
screen violence, yet these films don’t seem to get mentioned any more.
But The Graduate wormed its way into our culture. It had a
tremendous influence in Hollywood. It influenced young filmmakers—Steven
Spielberg, Ron Howard, Ang Lee, the Coen brothers. People took ideas away and
put these in their own films. But also The Graduate has left a residue in our
culture—“plastics.”
In politics, when Robert Dole was going to be the nominee to
be the leader of the Republican Party, and Pat Buchanan was trying to wrest the
nomination away, he predicted he would be like Benjamin Braddock, saving the
party from an uninspired marriage to Bob Dole.
Q: You mentioned that the film wasn’t expected to be a big
hit. Can you say more about that?
A: The people involved with it had very little Hollywood
track records. The producer, Lawrence Turman, had produced one movie but wasn’t
a big-name producer. Mike Nichols had never directed a movie; he had just
started moving beyond his reputation as a comic performer. Dustin Hoffman was
starting to make a name for himself in quirky roles Off-Broadway. Charles Webb,
the novelist, was unknown. Anne Bancroft was the one with sort of a name.
[These were mostly] unknown people.
Trying to adapt The
Graduate for film, Turman went around to the studios and everybody turned
the project down. He found Joseph E. Levine, who was best known for shlock
movies. By no means was this a mainstream Hollywood product. It was sexier--it
dealt with subjects that were not [usually] dealt with. It was a little
European in terms of its use of sex.
Q: What impact did the casting of Dustin Hoffman and Anne
Bancroft have on the film?
A: Dustin Hoffman’s casting was really interesting. I should
mention it was not his first role. I knew he had a tiny part in an offbeat
indie but I discovered he also played the lead in a strange movie shot in
Spain, Madigan’s Millions, where he does a Jerry Lewis shtick.
In The Graduate he
was playing a romantic lead in a part people imagined as an academic success
story, about a young man who was also a jock, a big man on campus—basically
Robert Redford, tall, handsome.
People were really surprised and almost appalled by the
casting of Hoffman in this role. There were a lot of references in Hollywood to
the casting of “this ugly boy.” There was a write-up of Dustin Hoffman in Life
magazine, a big photo spread introducing this new young actor, that said “a
swarthy Pinocchio makes a wooden role real.” It went on and on. It makes him sound
like a horrible deformed little cretin. Other reviews made him sound like a
troglodyte.
[But] young audiences fell in love with Dustin Hoffman. The
Hollywood people would say, it’s a great movie, too bad you miscast the lead.
They didn’t expect the outpouring from young people for someone who looks like
them, who not only gets the girl but gets more than one. They were rooting for
him.
Part of conventional Hollywood’s dislike for his looks was
along ethnic lines. He is not the tall blond WASP…there was nothing Jewish in
the story, but he [brought] the look of being ethnic with him, and suddenly
that was okay. All of a sudden leading men were being played by Elliott Gould,
Richard Dreyfuss, Richard Benjamin, Al Pacino.
It became possible to have a leading man who doesn’t look
like Paul Newman or Steve McQueen. McQueen was the classic Hollywood hunk. His
wife described how he was in a panic about Hoffman’s screen success. He started
worrying about his own place in the Hollywood pantheon—is that [Dustin Hoffman]
the type everyone’s going to want? Hoffman’s casting has ultimately loosened up
Hollywood. Ben Stiller or Seth Rogen can now be romantic leads.
Anne Bancroft was the one name performer. She had won an
Oscar for The Miracle Worker. She was not the first choice. The first person
was not officially offered the role, but was someone Lawrence Turman was
interested in attracting—he sent the novel to Doris Day. He thought that would
be a strange and interesting switch on her usual virginal image. She said it
offended her values, but I’m not sure she received the book—her husband, a
controlling guy, kept it from her.
Other people who were considered included Jeanne Moreau, but
a Frenchwoman wasn’t appropriate. Ava Gardner was still beautiful, but when she
said she was going to phone Ernest Hemingway and he had died five years before,
[they thought] maybe she wasn’t up to the part. Another actress who would have
been an interesting choice was Patricia Neal, but she had had a stroke.
Anne Bancroft was a great choice. She wasn’t quite old
enough for the part, she had to be made up to look older. Years later she said,
I used to think I looked really ugly in The Graduate, and now I think I was the
most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
Q: How did you come up with the book’s title—and
subtitle—and what do they signify for you?
A: I’m proud to say it was my idea. I liked the idea of
putting Mrs. Robinson in the title but for copyright reasons I couldn’t quote
directly from the song, “Mrs. Robinson.” “Seduced” is such a seductive word. We
in the audience were seduced by Mrs. Robinson. The name “Mrs. Robinson” has
come to evoke titters. There was a woman named Mary Robinson who was elected
president of Ireland, and everybody joked, Mrs. Robinson is now the head of Ireland!
And the touchstone of a generation—I meant that to allude to
the fact that an awful lot of what was going through our heads in the late ‘60s
was captured in that movie. I talked to a lot of people [affected] by the
movie. They felt attitudes and belief systems were changing. Most movies we
shrug off, but some lodge in our brain, and this was one of them.
Q: What are you working on now?
A: Good question. I’m working on staying on top of the
excitement about this book. I have written two biographies, one about the man I
once worked for, Roger Corman, who is famous for B movies. He is a fascinating
individual. I wanted to write a genuinely independent biography of Roger, and I
did. And a biography of Ron Howard. That was a very different kind of book, and
a very different kind of person.
Writing biographies can be tricky. I’m also interested in
some of the other groundbreaking movies of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. I have
some ideas, but no time to develop them. I need some sleep!
Q: Anything else we should know about your new book?
A: The Graduate was lucky enough to come out at a time of
great social ferment. It was originally supposed to be shot in 1965, a quieter
time. By ’67 a lot of things had formed to affect my generation. People like me
were very much aware of the fact that we had a young handsome president killed
on November 22, 1963. That darkened the world for a lot of us.
We were very aware of the civil rights movement, which
started out as idealistic and hopeful and then there were racial disturbances
in the streets of major American cities. Our lives were feeling less stable
than we had imagined. Then of course there was the Vietnam War, which had been
going on in miniature for quite a while but ’67 was when it hit the fan.
Virtually every young man I knew was trying to figure out what to do to save
himself from being drafted.
By the summer of ’67 President Johnson had signed a bill
abolishing most graduate student deferments. Here’s Benjamin Braddock having
graduated from college, lying around his parents’ backyard, and nobody’s
saying, But you’re going to be drafted. The filmmakers hadn’t thought about
that. It was an odd coming together of a story based in 1962, but it came out
in ’67. People saw things in it that weren’t there, but seemed to fit the mood
of the times.
After The Graduate, a lot of movies were made about the
draft and the other problems I’ve mentioned. Those films were period pieces,
and they’ve drifted out of sight. The Graduate was not trying to be about a
particular era [but] we recognized it back then. Some young people today see it
as who am I, where am I, who can I be? All those feelings are still with us.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb, from a transcription of a phone conversation.
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