SABRINA: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1954) Paramount (region free) vs. Warner (region A)

A champagne cocktail that continues to sparkle with an impenetrable display of intoxicating bubbles, Billy Wilder’s Sabrina (1954) remains the quintessential modern-day derivative of Charles Perrault’s classic fairy tale, Cinderella brought surreptitiously to life. The film is, of course, more directly based on Samuel A. Taylor’s lushly quixotic Sabrina Fair – the pluperfect romantic comedy about a wallflower desperate to be recognized by the flamboyant heir to the manor born. In supplanting the traditional Gothic European castle for a moneyed Long Island estate, Taylor’s acclimatization of Perrault’s literary genius has lost none of the original’s zeal for glamorous wish fulfillment. Moreover, Taylor has tweaked the formula enough to yield a refreshing, utterly joyous – and slightly unpredictable – ‘feel good’; the discovery of our ‘happily ever after’ this second time around in the arms of an unlikely stranger. And Wilder, the indescribably brilliant author of such luscious and engaging rom/coms as Midnight and Ninotchka (both in 1939), Ball of Fire (1941), and, The Major and the Minor (1942), is working here with an extraordinary cast, capable of bringing all these fantasy elements into focus with a sort of edgy and glacé precision for what makes men and women tick.

After all, the prince in this story is not exactly the budding young stud in cod piece and tights or even the rakishly handsome, platinum tress playboy, David Larrabee (William Holden) whom the princess in rags – in this case, the chauffeur’s daughter, Sabrina Fairchild (Audrey Hepburn) -has been mooning over and pining for ever since she was old enough to recognize the differences between boys and girls. David knows about this difference too. Only he just cannot quite see the proverbial forest for the trees in Sabrina; the girl who lives right over his garage. No, Dave’s into debutantes – superficial, flaxen-haired goddesses with trust funds who frequent the elegant parties his family gives during moon-lit warm summer nights. These mannequins have no staying power. Then again, David is not particularly interested in them either…at least, not for very long. He is much too self-absorbed to take life or love seriously, the pleasures of privilege having corrupted his sense of both chivalry and commitment to anything outside of having a good time. David’s ‘what me worry?’ complacency is not exactly embraced by his father, Oliver (the charming curmudgeon, Walter Hampden). But it is rather cynically abhorred by his elder brother, Linus (Humphrey Bogart) who has assumed control of the family’s empire from a front office in downtown Manhattan and/or rattling off orders to his secretary on a Dictaphone from the backseat of his chauffeur-driven limo. Billy Wilder and Ernest Lehman’s brush up of Taylor’s prose play upon the social sacrifices Linus has made in order to pick up David’s slack.  “Look at me,” Linus muses with a chronic sadness, “Joe College with a touch of arthritis!”

Bogart was, in fact, much too old to play even the elder son in this lithesome romantic fantasy. Moreover, he was already in poor health and even more ill-spirits by the time production began – a last minute replacement for Cary Grant. It is unknown exactly why Bogart took such an immediate aversion to his co-stars. But he most definitely did not get on with Audrey Hepburn – the pair, frequently at odds once cameras stopped rolling. Ironically, and thankfully, the malaise of their backstage bickering never seems to affect their on-screen chemistry. Bogart is at his best as the self-deprecating mature man caught unawares by Cupid’s arrow after his initial plan to merely buy off the chauffeur’s daughter to avert a nasty – and expensive – scandal goes hopelessly awry.  And Hepburn probes a softer side to Bogart, even if she was never to experience it in life. The two just feel comfortable and natural in each other’s arms, unexpectedly so, proving a genuine surprise to the audience, though arguably never to Bogart who continued to carry around a certain animosity. Asked by a reporter to qualify his working relationship with Audrey, Bogart is rumored to have said, “It’s alright if you don’t mind doing twenty takes.” As for Holden, Bogart was singularly unimpressed by the actor’s approach to his craft. Holden had been considered something of a has-been when Billy Wilder cast him as the unscrupulous screenwriter in Sunset Boulevard (1950). Yet, the 1950’s would prove to be the zenith of Holden’s movie career – much sought after and appearing in many high-profile movies throughout the decade including such diverse fair as Stalag 17 (1953), Executive Suite (1954), Love is a Many Splendored Thing, and Picnic (both in 1955) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). Holden’s approach to acting was arguably as legitimate as Bogart’s. But Holden never took himself seriously. “For me,” Holden explained in an interview, “…acting is not an all-consuming thing, except for the moment when I am actually doing it. Movie acting may not have a certain kind of glory as true art, but it is damn hard work.” As for Holden’s opinion of Bogart, years later the actor exclaimed, “I hated that bastard.”  Bearing in mind that the reality of Hollywood is far greater than its mythology, Wilder found himself playing ringmaster between these three artistic temperaments to sooth the behind-the-scenes bickering. And Bogart did eventually come around to Hepburn at least, choosing to play Linus as a true cynic unencumbered by any romantic notions, with just a hint of his trademarked glibness seeping through his performance.

Wilder opens his movie with some sumptuous stock footage of, among other locations, the Doheny/Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills subbing in for the Long Island abode of the Larrabees. We are introduced to the family, Oliver, Maude (Nella Walker), Linus and David gathered together for a family portrait, ironically posed beneath another taken when both Linus and David were just boys. Not much has changed in the interim, except David has traded in his fascination for fast rides (he is depicted on a rocking horse in the portrait hanging over the fireplace) for even faster and more disposable, casual affairs. Currently David is courting a very flashy socialite, Elizabeth Tyson (Martha Hyer) whom both families hope he will eventually marry – especially since the Tysons could prove a very fruitful alliance in Oliver’s latest venture into plastics. This of course has led to a particularly unhappy circumstance for Sabrina who has worshiped David from afar all of her life and is heart sore over his latest now. In a moment of fitful romantic angst, Sabrina decides to commit suicide by starting all the Larrabee’s vehicles in a closed garage and waiting for the fumes to overtake her. This plan is mercifully thwarted when Linus inadvertently discovers Sabrina lying between two cars.  She lies about having been told by her father, Thomas (John Williams) to check the exhausts in order to avoid Linus’ suspicions. Sensing his daughter needs grounding, Thomas decides to send Sabrina away for a culinary education in Paris.  While attending her classes Sabrina meets the kindly middle-aged Baron St. Fontanel (Marcel Dalio) who takes a paternal interest. Time passes and Sabrina returns to Long Island as a lady of culture, imbued with a newfound grace and inimitable class that cuts like a diamond – in short, a woman much too good for the philandering David. However, as luck would have it, David is now very much interested in Sabrina. But so is brother Linus - not for love, but to steer her away from his pending plastics deal so David and Elizabeth can marry.

To get David out of the way, Linus arranges for a minor accident. During another Long Island party, David sits on a pair of glass champagne flutes he has tucked into his waist band in the hopes of seducing Sabrina at the family’s indoor tennis courts. After the shards of glass are plucked from his backside and the stitches put in place, Linus goes to work on Sabrina, firmly believing she is simply after David for his money. What he quickly discovers is a lonely and introspective girl who bears no such enterprising and manipulative designs on his brother. Still, Sabrina stealing David away from Elizabeth would ruin Linus’ carefully orchestrated plastics deal with Liz’s father (Francis X. Bushman). But as Linus diligently finagles his way into Sabrina’s heart, he unearths unexpected feelings of his own towards her. Upon his recovery, David challenges Linus to plumb the depths of his affections for Sabrina; this, after Linus has already confessed to Sabrina, he only pursued her to get her away from David. Having completely soured her on the Larrabee family, Sabrina departs for Europe on the Queen Elizabeth. David encourages Linus to take the ferry with all speed to meet the ship already pulling out of harbor. This leads to reconciliation between Linus and Sabrina.  David effectively assumes control of the boardroom and sees the Larrabee/Tyson merger through to completion.

Sabrina is by far Billy Wilder’s most eloquent and frothy romantic comedy. Charles Lang’s sumptuous B&W cinematography lends a moody gloss to the proceedings, as do Hubert de Givenchy’s stunning array of suits and cocktail party dresses that forever solidified Audrey Hepburn’s reputation as one of the undisputed style icons of the 1950’s and 60’s.  As an interesting aside: Givenchy’s initial meeting with Audrey was hardly fortuitous. Told by his secretary he would be meeting ‘Ms. Hepburn’ for an afternoon fitting, the designer mistakenly believed it was ‘Katharine Hepburn’ who was on her way to his atelier. Hence, when Audrey arrived, Givenchy paid her little attention, instructing her to make selections off the rack. However, once the misunderstanding was cleared up, Givenchy graciously apologized. Arguably, he had found his muse for designing clothes. For in the years that were yet to follow, the collaboration between Audrey and Givenchy established trendsetting glamour that remains as idolized today as it is continuously and most readily copied and/or evoked by other designers.  Sabrina is, of course, about much more than the clothes; the romantic chemistry between Hepburn and Bogart quite palpable and engaging, even if they were considerably at odds with one another behind the scenes. William Holden is a devilish rapscallion, oozing a sort of unapologetic, yet wholly likable dis-respectability that quite convincingly remade his movie image into one of the male beefcake/pin-ups of the decade. Given all of the backstage animosity, Sabrina crackles with charisma as few romantic comedies before or since – its intangible qualities wed to Hal Pereira and Walter H. Tyler’s stylish production design and Friedrich Hollaender’s lush orchestral adaptations of time-honored and pop songs of the day, blended into a frothy confection of uber-chic full-scale classiness. “Isn’t it romantic?” You better believe it!

Sabrina made its North American debut on Blu-ray in 2014, via a distribution deal between Paramount and Warner Home Video, in a sparkling new transfer that significantly differed from the Euro release made by Paramount proper the year before. There is a bit of a muddle here, as the Euro disc contained an open matte 1.33:1 standard Academy ratio, while the Warner disc cropped and re-framed the image to 1.78:1. All previous incarnations of Sabrina on home video have been in 1.33:1. A bit of history: Paramount ‘officially’ began masking their standard movies in 1953 to conform to 1.66:1 in order to compete in the widescreen revolution, prior to the debut of their patented (and photographically superior) VistaVision process in 1954 with the release of White Christmas. There are archived studio memorandums to suggest Sabrina was originally shown theatrically in both 1.33:1 and 1.66:1, depending on the capabilities of the theater. Regardless, the more heavily cropped 1.78:1 on the Warner disc is NOT the ‘original’ aspect ratio; hence, it is a little perplexing why Paramount via Warner’s distribution deal would go to added lengths to re-imagine the image for this Blu-ray – except, merely to accommodate the proportions of present-day hi-def video monitors (which should never become the standard!).

Personal preference, but I like the Euro disc to Warner’s reissue as Sabrina just looks cramped in 1.78:1, heads cut off and background detail obfuscated – a very different, and not altogether satisfying presentation. I found myself remembering the ‘open matte’ release and wishing to see ‘the rest’ of the image. Warner’s transfer, currently out of print, suffers from residual softness, presumably, from ‘blowing up’ the image to conform to the ‘new’ aspect ratio, while the Euro release marginally suffers from a bit of heavy-handed DNR. The Euro disc never veered into ugly waxy or digitally ‘scrubbed’ imagery, but its contrast was slightly anemic when compared to the contrast on the Warner disc. But the Warner disc seems unexpectedly grainy, particularly during more darkly lit scenes.  There is also a hint of digital noise here, absent on the Euro/Paramount release (still readily available). I’ll favor the Euro disc here, and recommend it over Warner’s reissue. As for the audio, it’s identical - 2.0 mono DTS. Good stuff. Even better, all of the extras excluded from the European Blu-ray, but that were part of Paramount’s Centennial Collector’s Edition DVD, including a featurette on Glenn Cove and the decline of the rich estates where Sabrina supposedly took place; another, where contemporary fashion designers waxed about the Audrey/Givenchy style alliance, and, two others on the making of the movie - plus Paramount’s output in the 1950's - are reinstated on the Warner Blu-ray. Bottom line: I’d rather watch the Euro disc for the movie, but hang on to the Warner reissue for the extras. Will Paramount proper get around to remastering and re-issuing Sabrina on Blu-ray states’ side as part of its Paramount Presents…lineup? Only time will tell.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4 (Paramount/Euro)

3.5 (Warner)

EXTRAS

4 (Warner disc only)