Director Stanley Donen is remembered, when he’s remembered, for films like Singing in the Rain and Arabesque, big-budget musicals designed to be instantaneous crowd pleasers. He is not remembered, in an epic failure of our film education system, for Charade, the Cold War-era gem which, when I first saw it in middle school, sparked my own infatuation with cinema. Charade is impossible to categorize: it’s all at once comedy, drama, romance and thriller, with a pinch of political satire and a dash of James Bond.
Audrey Hepburn is the essence of class as Regina Lampert, a widow recruited by the CIA to find the $250,000 her husband stole from the government and Cary Grant radiates charm as her sometimes-hero, sometimes-nemesis. As the two banter their way through the stunning streets of Paris, quipping at a speed that would make the Gilmore Girls jealous, it becomes obvious that Donen has created a masterpiece. But tragically, 46 years later, Charade is still waiting for its big break.
