Sabrina (Audrey Hepburn) is the young daughter of the Larabee family chauffeur (John Williams). For most of her young life, she has had a crush on the Larabee’s youngest son, David (William Holden).
Concerned for her future, her father sends her to Paris to train as a chef.
When Sabrina returns home from her education as a more sophisticated figure, David is suddenly enraptured.
This is a problem, as David is currently engaged.
For his older brother Linus (Humphrey Bogart), this problem has broader ramifications - the engagement is a key part of a planned merger, and Sabrina’s reappearance puts it at stake.
In an attempt to thwart this union, Linus takes it upon himself to woo Sabrina away from his brother.
Will the businessman succeed in his scheme - or will matters of the heart overcome his calculations?
This film marks a crossing of the streams - one being my ongoing exploration of Humphrey Bogart’s filmography, and a more recent, slow-rolling project on the work of Audrey Hepburn.
I must have first watched Sabrina around the same time as Roman Holiday and My Fair Lady.
Watching it now, I am amazed at how well this movie works considering it falls down in one respect - I never buy Bogart’s love for Hepburn.
Sabrina is a fascinating case study for its stars, especially for Bogart.
I spent the movie waiting to see a turn, feel a shift in how Linus feels about Sabrina - but it never quite hits.
This movie is a good text for the power of stars - Hepburn’s power to convey romantic yearning is absolutely hypnotising - from the first close-up of her up the tree, watching William Holden’s David romance another woman.
There is something so idealised, or maybe desexualised about the way she falls in onscreen ardour she prevents the story from leaning towards its darker implications.
I cannot think of anyone else who could sell the scene in which Sabrina tries to end her own life.
I even buy her switch of affections to Linus.
But with Bogart, it is like he is completely isolated from the movie around him. He is as ineffective as a romantic lead as the film is successful as a vehicle for Hepburn.
Bogart is not completely miscast - he handles Linus the cold businessman, and he brings pathos to the tycoon’s monologue about his past relationships.
His choice to pivot toward dry humor is finely in tune with the movie, and acts as a better indicator of his true feelings.
But when it comes to Sabrina it feels more like a mentorship - the young ingenue inspiring the older man to reconnect with his feelings and final love.
In Cameron Crowe’s Conversations with Wilder, he laments that his first choice, Cary Grant, turned him down. One can see Grant managing the balance of cool tycoon with romantic lead - just see his chemistry with Hepburn in 1963’s Charade.
In terms of dramatic construction, and as a comedic showcase, the film is superb - despite Bogart’s animosity (or maybe because of it), the interplay between Linus and William Holden’s shallow David works, while the physical gags (the runner of people sitting on glasses)
Sabrina reverses the transformation narrative of Roman Holiday - instead of royalty play-acting commoner, we have a more Cinderella-style arc, as Sabrina returns from Paris with the appearance of a European sophisticate.
Hepburn’s affect is of an idealised innocence; it is almost perfect for a fairytale. Yet that quality is offset by her worldliness.
It is a unique combination of elements that underpin her persona and appeal - and the reason why Sabrina works.
In another performer’s hands, Sabrina could have come across as a naive waif, a victim manipulated by the mindgames of the Larabee brothers. But Hepburn’s unique screen presence, that combination of childlike wonder and worldliness, the character never comes across as an object for her male leads to fight over.
Additional credit goes to writer Ernst Lehman an co-writer/director Billy Wilder, who thread the needle between sweet and sour so that the film never loses its careful balancing act of tones. It is so precise that, to me at least, it also accounts for Bogart’s chilly performance.
It is a balance that would evade the team behind the 1995 remake.
A key text in building the Hepburn persona (this film initiated her lifelong partnership with designer Givenchy), Sabrina is not as successful at its dramatic goals as Roman Holiday, but it is more influential.
And few films are better at showcasing the unique dichotomy at the heart of Audrey Hepburn’s appeal.
A personal favourite.
Related
