Kim Novak in Picnic-- "The Pretty One"

Kim Novak on the set of "Picnic", getting pretty

In our continuing discussion of female characters in film that had an effect on me as a teenager, we now turn to Kim Novak's characterization of Madge in "Picnic" (1955).

So, yes, Picnic is dated, and the themes and characters are stereotypically drawn. But I was OBSESSED with "Picnic" when I first watched it, probably at the age of 16. And while I was loved it (and was particularly obsessed with a shirtless William Holden, which is a whole other topic of discussion), there was an aura to Novak's Madge that I couldn't quite crack. She complained about being identified as the "pretty one", but seemed static at the same time. I also, at 16, mind you,  couldn't understand why someone would be upset with being perceived as pretty-- I thought: "What's wrong with that? You ARE gorgeous". I was annoyed with her that she seemed so bored with her life, but not really doing anything to change it.

Longing for more

I also didn't grasp the depth of the love story plot with Holden's Hal, and what her motivations were. I was happy to see her finally navigating decisions of her own volition, but what were the reasons? To be perceived as pretty by Hal, a new man in town? Or, was she searching for something else? Either way, I was of course enchanted by the love story, by their iconic "Moonglow" dance, and when she leaves home at the end of the film to chase a life with Hal, I imagined that their life together would be beautiful and lovely and romantic. Ah, how naive 16 year old me was.

I've rewatched "Picnic" a number of times over the years. Most recently, a few weeks ago. Perhaps it's because I'm essentially double the age of when I first watched the movie, but I felt like I finally "got" Madge. Madge comes from a family where her father abandoned their family. Madge's mother Flo (Betty Field) has never gotten over that abandonment, and her primary hope for her daughter is that she land a good man, at a young age, so that he won't leave her. The most important detail? Madge must be beautiful, and she'll only be beautiful for so long, so she'd better land a dependable suitor sooner rather than later. According to her mother, Madge should maybe even consider "putting out" (not a 1950s term, I am aware) in order to clinch the deal. In other words, Flo is kind of a disaster. Madge feels an obligation to assume this identity, even though in her heart of hearts, that's not how she sees herself. She longs to be more than a sex object, she wants to be seen for who she is, not what she looks like. She wants people to look beyond her gorgeous exterior. Her dependable boyfriend Alan (Cliff Robertson) sees Madge as the woman to complete his perfect businessman image: she'll be a perfect future trophy wife. He wants to know if she "looks real in the moonlight". She's not even a real human to him, and she longs to be seen as real, as someone of substance.

In deep thought

Enter Hal. He's a drifter. He's always been perceived as a loser, as someone who will never get ahead. He's a misfit. In Madge, maybe he sees in her someone who also doesn't belong. They're kindred spirits, in an odd way. Madge is drawn to him, but cautious, too. Hal represents someone who would totally not be in line with the kind of life Flo envisions for her. Of course, the love story prevails. Hal ends up confiding in Madge about the mess of his life, the darkness of his childhood-- for Hal, Madge is someone he can talk to. Madge is finally being seen as something more than an object to stare at. (Literally the whole town stares at her when she is crowned the "Queen" at the picnic). He trusts her with his darkest thoughts. This is what Madge is drawn to: she falls for his vulnerability, but also for the fact that she is a real person that he is confiding in. I finally understood Novak's delivery of the line "I just get tired of being told I'm pretty", watching this film with that lens. She remains conflicted about her feelings for Hal, and carries guilt about cheating on Alan, but it's finally something that is her decision-- her first act of independence. Her first act of growing up.

Embarking on her own life

And now we get to what I view as the proto-feminist ending. Hal is leaving town, and Madge must decide if she will go with him. He catches the freight train and skips town, telling her where he will next be stationed. At this point of the film, watching it at 16, I ACHED for the two of them to go off together. Watching the film at 30, I ACHED for Madge to leave home and explore life for herself. Which is exactly what she does. Yes, she's heading for Hal, but we can see the writing on the wall that Hal will never change, and Hal and Madge are not destined to be forever. In my mind, and Novak plays this beautifully, Madge's real victory is gaining the independence and the courage to defy her mother. She doesn't want to live the life that Flo envisions for her. She wants to live the life that she envisions for herself. Novak beautifully builds her angsty portrayal of Madge to that final scene, where she finally lets out a genuine smile as she boards the bus to her new life.

Though at first glance, Picnic's center is Hal's story, the emotional core of the film is Madge's journey, and how Hal coming into town for one day changes the course of her life forever. How Hal gifts her with independence. How she finally finds the will to exact that agency.

Kim Novak according to Columbia

Knowing how Novak perceived her movie career, I can't help but think that there must have been a lot of Kim in Madge. She was thrust into the Columbia studio system, immediately painted as a sex symbol with lavender hair. She wasn't given many roles of substance. The Columbia studio portraits portrayed her as smoldering. I think she longed for more, just like Madge did. She has said in an interview with Robert Osborne that all she wanted was to portray her characters as honestly and vulnerably as possible. But I think she was misunderstood by Hollywood-- probably a reason why she left the business. Her form of artistic expression is now visual art. If I had to guess, she probably feels a freedom in expressing her soul, without the studio lights and glamourous makeup. For Kim and Madge, they just wanted to be real people. Watching "Picnic" now, I am struck by how many women are Madge, perceived as the "pretty one": no substance, brains, or depth. Society still dominantly prefers to salivate over if we're "real in the moonlight".

Kim Novak, the visual artist: on her own terms

Reviving the blog, resetting the focus, and let's "Pillow Talk"

Is this thing on? Wow, it's crazy to think that it's been 5 years since I've posted on here. If any of you are still here, hello! If you were around for "Classic Movie Moments", this is now the home of "The Old Hollywood Feminist"!

It appears that I attempted to write multiple drafts of posts more recently, but never published them. Turns out life as a self-employed musician is more than a full-time job! I love what I do, but I've really missed writing. I've missed having a creative outlet that isn't my work-- I love writing, because it's not something I feel judged about, or something I need to be perfect at (what's perfect, anyway)? And I love writing about movies-- movies bring so much joy and calm to my crazy life.

On an hour-long drive to a work meeting a few weeks ago, my brain finally had about an hour to think about things other than my job. And, a lightbulb went off. I realized: I'm a hardcore feminist, but I'm also a hardcore classic movie fan. Like, really hardcore-- like a DVD collection in the hundreds, a film book collection so large that my friends make fun of me for every time they help us move to a new house.

My immediate reaction was: I should write about this! Because when people first hear "feminist" and "classic film", they probably sound like drastically different terms. But, I'm here to say that isn't so. In an era where Hollywood was governed by a bunch of old white guys (hmm, sound familiar?), some of the most powerful and badass women were on the screen-- in starring roles, with top billing. (Who had top billing in "Easter Parade"? The answer isn't Fred Astaire). The "women's picture" was an entire genre unto itself-- were there problematic themes in the genre? Hell yes. Were the women portraying these characters smarter than the genre? Hell yes, again (hey Bette Davis!).

So, the long and the short of it is, I want to talk about how growing up with these films had a hand in shaping me into a feminist. I want to talk about the stars that defied the studio system, in front of and behind the camera. I want to talk about the actresses who made their characters into fully-fledged humans, even if the writing wasn't there. And, I want to talk about films that made me think: I want to be like her.

Badass, having none if it, Queen Jan Morrow

So, our first subject? An unlikely one, perhaps. A woman who never defined herself as a feminist. A woman who, on the surface, was "the girl next door", the "peppy blonde", the sometimes "tomboy", or, worst, "the eternal virgin". Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we're talking about Doris Day. Beloved, recently departed Doris Day. Even her name elicits images of sunshine and perkiness. But, I want to talk about how I first came to know her, and how, for 15-year old me, none of these above labels even entered my mind when I watched my first Doris Day movie.

As I said, I first sat down and watched a full Doris Day movie when I was 15. My mom told me I would love it, that it was charming, and adorable. The movie was "Pillow Talk" (1959). Here is how I read this movie, without knowing how this movie was defined by "film history". Doris' character? Jan Morrow. Single, lives alone in a super rad apartment, makes what seems to be a pretty damn successful living (according to her rad apartment and stunning wardrobe) as an interior decorator. Doesn't seem to be lacking for anything in her life. She's mature, likeable, and the only thorn in her side is playboy Brad Allen (gorgeous Rock Hudson) who happens to share her party line. For any youngins' who don't know what a party line is, Google it (15-year old me definitely needed a rundown on what that was). Jan is also funny-- cue some of the best facial expressions in the history of cinema whenever she listens in Brad's antics, while waiting to make her important work calls.  Anyhow, to me at 15, this woman is living the life! I want her apartment! She's living in New York City! She's making a living in New York City! She goes out on dates when she wants to! She's selective, and isn't about to settle down with the wrong man. Her life is fine as it is. She's living the dream!

When she falls for Rex Stetson (aka Brad Allen putting on a Texan accent to disguise his true identity-- just go with it, people), she doesn't hold back in her desire for intimacy (she actually asks him why he hasn't kissed her yet), and then when they go away together for the weekend, this woman is super down to go "all the way"-- in fact, I would say, this is not her first rodeo at all of this! She may be single, but she ain't a nun! The only thing that stops her is discovering Rex's true identity.

Bathtime and flirty times for Jan Morrow

So, why then, was "Pillow Talk" the film that crowned Doris Day with the term "eternal virgin"? And why is it still in the consciousness of people that "virgin" is what Doris Day's cinematic image was? Were we watching the same movie? Were we watching the same split-screen scene where Jan is in the bathtub (naked, gasp!) and flirting with Rex on the phone, who is also in a bathtub?! Jan Morrow is badass, she's not a prude! And, she's a sexy badass-- hello, I'd love to have Doris Day's body, please. It never even crossed my mind when I watched this movie as a 15 year old that Jan Morrow is in her 30s and has never had sex (which, by the way, would be fine too, but that's not how I read it). What, just because she focused on her career instead of marrying means that sex wasn't on the table, period? Come on, people. In my mind, "Pillow Talk" was ahead of its time, not behind.

For me, watching this as a teenager, of course I wanted Doris and Rock together. I mean, have you seen them together? Dream team. But what was far more resonant to me was the fact that I was pretty much in love with Jan Morrow's life. I idolized her. I wanted her wardrobe. I wanted her confidence. I wanted her flirtatiousness. She had it all. She was a modern woman wrapped up in a beautiful 1959 package, and in the early 2000s, I wanted to be her.

In short, watching this movie ignited a Doris Day obsession that continues to this day. And I've never understood the misconceptions about her screen image. Anyone who actually watches her movies should understand what she represented/represents. In "Pillow Talk", she's basically the coolest woman ever, and was living ahead of her time. End of story.

But, not the end of these blog posts! Who should I talk about next? Lemme know! Thanks for reading!