The Shamed Single Girl and the Domestic Man: Take on the Grey-Flannel Beatniks

Paper by Skylar Harrison.

The Apartment (Wilder, 1960) is clearly a comedic film, yet it is threaded with serious tones regarding the struggle for American success, the differences between patriarchal masculinity and the new sensitive masculinity, and sexually active single females contrasted by unfaithful businessmen. Moreover, the serious threads of the film criticize America’s capitalist society in the 1960s. Through a reception study consisting of reviews of The Apartment published in June and May of 1960 in Time, The New York Times, Variety, The New Yorker, The New Republic, and Newsweek, it will be seen how the American business world and the typical patriarchal men that goes along with it were criticized and denounced. However, the reviews just skim and are unjustly critical of Shirley MacLaine’s character, Fran, the lower class elevator operator subjected to the harassment of the higher-class flannel suit wearing men. She is considered rash and foolish, and it is only the industry trade publication, Variety, that understands that Fran’s character symbolizes the prey of corrupt businessmen (1). The sensitive Jack Lemmon as C.C. Baxter (Bud)—a man rising in his career by unfair means— is not so much criticized but rather branded as an innocent, lonely, and good natured man. Although these reviews highlight the corruption and reality of the American business world, they neglect to discuss two very interesting types of sexuality in regards to the protagonists of the film. These are a strong, yet confused female and an effeminate, sensitive male. These two leading characters create a new dynamic for Hollywood lovers, which is a relationship based on companionship rather than sex.

The majority of reviewers of The Apartment labeled the film as “funny;” however, it was the more insightful ones who understood the thread of seriousness and sadness that runs through the film. The New York Times explains, “Under the clever supervision of Billy Wilder…the idea is run into a gleeful, tender and even sentimental film” (37). The Apartment, although having many blatantly humorous moments, also handles dense conflicts that are deeply rooted in American society. This film questions and subtly criticizes America’s core value of success and the patriarchal businessman—a bold statement for the seemingly idealistic 1960s.The majority of reviews for this film pin The Apartment as a comedy; Time stated that it was, “the funniest movie made in Hollywood since Some Like It Hot.” However, Billy Wilder, the director of both Some Like It Hot and The Apartment would not classify The Apartment as a comedy. Wilder stated, “It doesn’t fit into any specific category. It is a film that is trying to say a few pertinent things about the society we live in…” (Wood 185). After his comedic success with Some Like It Hot, reviewers tried to absorb this new type of film. Newsweek understood Wilder’s choices, stating, “It takes deft handling at this point to keep the laughter and the tears from canceling each other out….They mix them so thoroughly that, as in life itself, it is sometimes hard to tell which is which” (110). The New Republic was not in favor of the comedic tactic used to speak out about American society. Stanley Kauffmann stated, “The script wanders from near-slapstick to near-tragic; and the story is based on a tasteless gimmick….This picture is not good enough for [Lemmon] (20-21). Yet, all the reviews concur that it is Jack Lemmon who carries the show. Time explains that it is due to his “sensitive and tasteful” acting style that humor and sadness can be blended, while The New York Times articulated that, “The actor uses comedy as it should be used, to evoke a rainbow of emotions” (“The New Pictures” 47; Crowther 36). There is no doubt that this film holds more than comedy and that Lemmon’s new sensitive style accentuates it.

From the start, the film criticizes the new American work force that evolved after Word War II, which stars the patriarchal businessman, and Bud’s character accentuates this critique. The film starts with a pan of New York City then fades out and into a vertical pan of a skyscraper. During these shots Bud explains his job at the insurance company, Consolidated Life of New York, through a voiceover. Next, the skyscraper fades out as a shot of seemingly endless rows of desks fades in; this shot, along with Bud’s voiceover explaining the 31,259 employees at his company, already accentuates the struggle to climb the business ladder of America. It soon “dawns on [Bud] that if his own virtues are not enough, other people’s vices might help” in order to progress in his career (“The New Pictures” 47). So, Bud begins lending his apartment to his married bosses for their convenient love affairs, and in return gets promotions. The reviews of The Apartment all grasp the harsh look at corporate America, but not all can sympathize. The New Yorker felt it hard to sympathize with a character who turns his apartment into a “brothel” for his bosses (70). The New Yorker has missed the point that Bud’s character is one of many middle-class workers fighting through corporate America, and therefore should be sympathized with. Although both Bud and his bosses are in the midst of immoral acts, there is a distinct difference separating the patriarchal bosses and Bud. “His character does not like what he’s doing,” explains The New York Times (36). The film scholar Magill further explains that, “The protagonist… is a basically decent young executive with an undeveloped code of morality who finds himself reacting to, rather than shaping, the events around him” (90). It is the patriarchal bosses who show the corruptness of the business world, not Bud. However, The New Yorker does criticize the bosses at the insurance company by saying, “These are grey-flannel beatniks, all right. If you want them, take them” (71). Time, on the other hand, accepts the sadness of Bud’s situation: “Apartment is a comedy of men’s-room humours and water-cooler politics that now and then among the belly laughs says something serious and sad about the struggle for success, about what it often does to a man, and about the horribly small world of big business” (47). Both Variety and Newsweek agreed that Bud is a kind person fighting to hold onto his identity; however, he is lost in the corrupt world of American business.

Although Bud’s character is used in the film to highlight the corruption of the business world, his personality introduces American filmgoers to a man with a feminine masculinity—one that differs from his adulterous, patriarchal bosses. The reviewers of the film do not touch upon Bud’s femininity but rather just label him as lonely and innocent, and The New Republic even calls him “flaccid” (70). Although they do not criticize his personality, they do not take on the idea of his character being feminine either. They only contrast his personality with the “sultans” of his workplace: “He beautifully maintains the appearance of a lamb among ravening wolves. He has the air of a good-natured hermit…” (Crowther 1). Variety also analyzed his morality but not his femininity: “He’s a phony Horatio Alger, and knowledge of this fact weighs heavily on his idealistic conscience” (2). By comparing Bud to an author known for his rags to riches stories of the American dream, Variety labels Bud as idealistic, when more accurately he is simply confused in the world of patriarchal masculinity, and later in the film he sacrifices “The American Dream” by turning in his executive washroom key for moral satisfaction. These reviews show that 1960s America was not yet ready to accept a feminine man, so they just ignored it.

However, film scholar Alison Hoffman in her essay titled Shame and the Single Girl, not only addresses Bud’s femininity but the admirable qualities of his new masculinity stating, “Wilder’s vision, significantly, does not encode any fears of male feminization. In fact, it does quite the opposite….Wilder… envisions traditional masculinity as the problem, not the answer” (13-14). Bud’s femininity lingers throughout the entirety of the film, and it is not a characteristic that is criticized. His stature is meek compared to his bosses’, his sex life non-existent, and he willingly puts the needs of his bosses over his own. Once the female interest, Fran, enters the film, there are many scenes in The Apartment in which the roles of female and male are inverted. When Fran attempts suicide in Bud’s Apartment, the result of being in a relationship with a married man, Bud becomes the ultimate caregiver, and embraces this role contently as he nurses Fran back to health (Hoffman 2). In a later scene, Bud is seen in an apron cooking dinner for his crush, and the roles of female and male are once again reversed. Although Bud is feminine, he is more human than either male or female, and Hoffman explains, “Becoming a ‘human being’… requires Baxter to first become more feminine and, later, to embrace that femininity—not to be ashamed of it” (14). Through current analysis of the film, Bud’s new sexuality is seen as a positive force, which allows the audience to question the deeply rooted patriarchal man that still exists in American society.

Fran is a complex and meaningful character in The Apartment that highlights the struggle single women fight in order to achieve acceptance while being sexually free and independent. She is an elevator girl working at Consolidates Life, harassed on a daily basis by flannel suit wearing businessmen, and is in love and involved with a married high executive. Her character shines a light on a sexually free, lower class working girl, and her story plays an important role in this film that criticizes gender inequality created by patriarchal men. However, within the reviews of The Apartment, her character is rarely analyzed as playing a profound and significant role. Fran is either simply mentioned, her acting criticized, or labeled as a rash and “daffy girl who gets into a lot of trouble…” (Crowther 1). To label Fran as rash, it to belittle the struggle Fran fights against the patriarchal man. However, Variety takes on the harsh significance of her character: “Rather than a single human being, Miss MacLaine symbolizes the universal prey of convincing, conniving married men within the glass walls of commerce” (2). Fran’s character, similar to Bud’s, highlights the corruptness of the philandering patriarchal businessmen. It is concerning that some reviews overlook her performance, suggesting that a woman’s plight created by a typical patriarchal man is not of importance. Wilder places no judgments on Fran and her sexuality. Hoffman points out Wilder’s new candid portrayal of a single woman, “Wilder’s film…never trivializes its single girl’s excessive desire (and hence, shame), opting instead to take it seriously, and encouraging audiences to (perhaps contagiously) empathize” (9). Fran struggles with her own shame created by a society that is unwilling to accept a sexually active single female, but she is also teaching viewers that there is actually no shame in accepting her mistakes, only strength. Time noted a scene where Fran’s own shame is evident. “There is a piece of business in which the heroine, when asked how many affairs she has had, admits to three but unconsciously lifts four fingers” (47). After Fran’s attempted suicide, a reaction to her lover “paying” her for her time, it is clear that Fran’s character symbolizes the ongoing battle women fight in order to survive as a single woman while avoiding becoming objectified by successful men.

Fran and Bud create a new relationship dynamic that breaks the passive woman and the patriarchal man mode. After Fran’s suicide attempt, she asks not only Bud, but also of herself, “Why can’t I ever fall in love with somebody nice like you?” By the end of the film, she realizes that she can choose the nice guy and happiness regardless of her sins, and subsequently she teaches the audience that mistakes can be made by women, and happiness can still be found. By Wilder pairing these two characters at the end of the film— characters who have both sinned and strayed from the acceptable American heterosexual romantic coupling—he expresses that they are “neither innocent nor evil, just human” (90). Magill states, “The happy ending was met with surprise by some critics who did not feel that protagonists who transgressed sexually deserved to find happiness” (92). Bud and Fran’s relationship also differs from the norm considering it is not based on sex. In fact, they do not even share a final kiss at the end of the film, suggesting that love can be found other ways than through sex. No other patriarchal man at Consolidated Insurance would stand for a relationship based on feelings as Bud does. Bud, a domestic and sensitive guy has found love with a “shamed” sinning girl; however, contemporary reviewers did not even touch on the subject of such a revolutionary couple. The ending of the film does a laudable job of defying the patriarchal ideologies of America. These two characters have defied them, and they are actually happier for it.

In conclusion, these reviews firmly grasped the criticism of patriarchal America; however, Fran’s significance as a female and Bud as a feminine male was not as thoroughly reviewed. Hoffman’s essay, Shame and the Single Girl, and Magill’s Survey of Cinema show that current analysis understands the significance of these characters and their critique of gender inequality in American society in the 1960s. The 1960s was not quite ready to sympathize with a sexually active single girl, yet they were able to embrace the innocent and lamblike Bud by ignoring that most of his character traits were more feminine than masculine. Bud and Fran find their happy ending outside of the patriarchal ideologies of America, and it allows American viewers to reassess the perfect idea of happiness. In this case, it was definitely not capital success, but a relationship based on companionship and the realization that they are human, as opposed to male or female, and therefore can make forgivable mistakes. The Apartment went on to win five Oscars, including Best Picture, showing appreciation for a film that takes on important social issues that were directly significant when the film was released in 1960.

Works Cited

Benshoff, Harry M. and Sean Griffin. America on Film. West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009. Print.
Crowther, Bosley. “Screen: Busy ‘Apartment’: Jack Lemmon Scores in Billy Wilder Film.” The New York Times 16 Jun. 1960. Web. 28 Oct. 2009.
Hoffman, Alison R.. “Shame and the Single Girl: Reviving Fran and Falling for Baxter in The Apartment.” 2009.
Magill, Frank N.. Magill’s Survey of Cinema: Volume 1, A-eas. California: Salem Press, 1980. Print.
McCarten, John. “Merriment to Murder.” The New Yorker 25 Jun. 1960: 70-71. Print.
Newsweek Staff. “It’s Really Rollicking.” Newsweek. 20 Jun. 1960. Print.
Stanley, Kauffmann. “Three for the Summer.” The New Republic 27 Jun. 1960: 20-21. Print.
Time Staff. “The New Pictures.” Time 6 Jun. 1960: 47. Print.
The Apartment. Dir. Billy Wilder. Perfs. Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc., 1960. Movie.
Variety Staff. “The Apartment.” Variety 18 May. 1960. Web. 28 Oct. 2009.
Wood, Tom. The Bright Side of Billy Wilder, Primarily. New York: Doubleday and Company, 1970. Print.