After driving up to Forest Lawn's Hall of Crucifixion, home to one of the most enchanting views in Los Angeles, my friend and I lounged on the front steps of the towering structure. Our iPhone flashlights proved useless against the stubborn dark as we struggled to eat out of our intricately designed sandwiches from Bon Vivant.
Lively music echoed from across the lot. Putting our pretty but difficult sandwiches aside, we found ourselves at a peculiarly cheerful wake.
Considering the week's wayward adventure, a blast from the past review on the 1971 cult classic "Harold and Maude" seemed fitting, as my friend recommended it after learning of my frequent visits to the memorial park (and, yes, that is a euphemism for cemetery).
The film is certainly not for everyone. Roger Ebert gave the film 1.5 out of 5 stars, while Vincent Canby's 1971 review in the New York Times was certainly not much more glowing. But I have to disagree with the critics on this one. The movie's existential themes are wrapped in quirky, dark humor, yet maintain a degree of lightheartedness that not only rouses a viewer's appreciation of life but kindles a less ominous view of death.
Directed by Hal Ashby, the movie opens with a young, wealthy boy named Harold (Bud Cort) attempting suicide by hanging. His mother (Vivian Pickles) strolls in and doesn't even bat an eyelash as her son hangs from the ceiling. She calmly rings the telephone, muttering "I suppose you think that's funny, Harold" in her crisp, prim tone.
Only when she finds Harold sprawled across the bathroom floor, with blood dripping from every corner of the bathroom, does she loose her blue-blood cool and send Harold to a psychiatrist.
All of Harold's suicides are staged. When his psychiatrist asks what gives him a sense of fulfillment, he solemnly replies "I go to funerals." It is during one of these funerals where he meets Maude (Ruth Gordon), a 79-year-old woman who steals cars whenever she needs a ride, justifying her actions as a "gentle reminder" not to "get attached to things" because we are all "here today, gone tomorrow." Meanwhile, Harold's mother's solution to her son's "very carefree, idle, happy" life is an arranged marriage.
Harold sabotages his prospects in the only way he knows how: utterly terrifying them by pretending to light himself on fire or chop off his hand (try this with your next creepy blind date). But viewers see the macabre, existential-crisis ridden Harold slowly come to life as his relationship with Maude progresses.
Gordon's portrayal of the delightfully eccentric Maude is, to put it simply, brilliant. Despite her funeral-crashing tendencies, she has a charming, whimsical appreciation of life. She even advises Harold to "Greet the dawn with a breath of fire!" Throughout the film's 120-minute running time, viewers get the sense that Maude is the quintessential free spirit, evident by her pastime of breaking into pet shops to free canaries.
"How the world still dearly loves a cage," she says. Maude, however, chooses to live outside of one and helps Harold find his own way out.
Gordon and Cort's on-screen chemistry is alluring, making one forget the decades between them. Before Maude's entrance, the lighting and scenery is mostly gray and gloomy, but grows brighter as the pair's relationship develops.
The film's black humor is complimented by the cheerful drawls of Cat Stevens advising viewers to be free.
There is a reason the film has a cult following. Watch it and don't be put off by Harold and Maude's funeral frequenting. You may find yourself tempted to crash one, too.
Annenberg Media