Plot intro
Steve Blackburn (George Segal) is a married American businessman living and working in London with his wife and two children. One day he meets divorced fashion designer Vickie Allessio (Glenda Jackson) who also has two children. The two hit it off and head off to Malaga to have an affair, but things get tricky when Steve has to continuously balance social events with his wife, business affairs, and the blossoming love between him and Vickie.
When you get right down to it, A Touch of Class is the ‘70s version of Brief Encounter. Indeed, the romantic ‘40s classic pops up in a funny but affecting scene in which our two lovers shed copious amounts of tears over the finale. But while Brief Encounter is a heartbreaking, frightfully posh and strictly chaste tale of two happily married people falling in love (Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard never so much as kiss), A Touch of Class follows a different path, with more frank, explicit discussions of sex, and a more lighthearted perspective on extra-marital affairs.
We’re well into the '70s now, an era when sex, violence and drugs became much more prevalent in film-making. So it’s a relief to have a comedy thrown at us and even by today’s standards it has a naughty, provocative nature to it. Vickie, being divorced, has much less to lose in this affair. The most she has to do is find a sitter for her children and pets. But rather than the reckless, vulnerable character you might expect, Glenda Jackson infuses authority, sexual dominance and brutal honesty into her. What makes Vickie so endearing is that she knows exactly what she wants - no-strings-attached fun, and if she falls in love then so be it. She is probably the archetypal second-wave feminist- she has power over her body, authority over her male partner, a career, a go-getting attitude to life, and a friendly, open-minded attitude. Much of my enjoyment of this film came from Vickie’s relentless capability, a big change from Celia Johnson’s comparatively weepy performance in Brief Encounter.
Conversely, it is the man, Steve, who is frazzled, indecisive, emotional and erratic and ends up causing some of the more chaotic plot points. Examples include his and Vickie’s difficulty in getting a car and a room in Malaga, or Steve having to feign bladder trouble in order to race from the Royal Albert Hall for a quickie in Soho and back again. Even his wife is a serene, pleasant, capable human being. Writers often like to present the wife as shrill, demanding, and cruel to justify the husband’s affair but not so here. Much of the film is dedicated to Steve’s desperate attempts to have a sexy, glamorous, wild time with his mistress, all of which become complicated or foiled by chance encounters with colleagues, social events with his family, or his own silly mistakes. It is refreshing to see these stereotypical gender roles reversed, with Vickie, though far from being an emotionless robot, displaying more strength and fortitude than Steve. Indeed, it is Steve’s chaotic indecision that leads to the affair coming to an end and even though she is heartbroken, Vickie remains resolute and knows exactly what action to take in her life.
This is a far better example of Glenda Jackson’s acting skills than her first Oscar win in Women In Love. The story here is more coherent and, most importantly, more fun. There are loads of laugh-out-loud moments in what is a tribute to ‘30s screwball comedies (references to It Happened One Night and His Girl Friday were used in the film’s marketing and Cary Grant himself was initially in talks to come out of retirement and play Steve). Jackson encapsulates the comedy as well as the dignity and strength of comedic actresses from an earlier era such as Claudette Colbert, Katharine Hepburn and Rosalind Russell, combining it with a subtle tenderness that humanises her. This is epitomised in one scene when Vickie is on the phone at work. Jackson effortlessly transitions between speaking tenderly to Steve over the phone and roaring furiously at her colleagues in the background.
For me, A Touch of Class has become an unexpected highlight of our journey through the Best Actress winners. Like the best of screwball comedies, it’s funny, touching and well-acted, with snappy dialogue and memorable side characters. It’s less than two hours (a rarity for the Academy Awards), and it refuses to comply with stereotypical depictions of genders.
Vickie is making dinner for Steve who is yet to arrive. She is irked to find that she has run out of oregano. She nips upstairs to her neighbour, a sex worker:
Vickie: I’m sorry to disturb, but do you have oregano?
Sex worker: Oh I hope not, I got tested last week!
Only that I wanted more of some of the side characters, such as Vickie’s sassy gay assistant or the travel agent who quickly cottons on to Steve’s affair and makes digs at him over the phone. But then, with characters as gloriously funny as these, sometimes less is more.
I write this several months after watching the film and so can now only remember fragments of this film, but will attempt to summarise nonetheless. What is most striking about this film is how free and open it is in its discussion of extra-marital affairs, coming after the grey misery of films like 1959’s Room at the Top. We aren’t encouraged to hate or even judge Vickie and Steve for their affair but simply observe.
And it is masterfully done. The scene where they arrive in their Malaga hotel and he promptly pulls his back muscles is pure comedy, and indeed so much of this film is played farcically and with immense humour. And what’s even more surprising in some ways is that the humour persists today. It feels fresh and uninhibited, and oddly modern in some ways. I appreciated the portrayal of Vickie as a successful career woman (and not punished by the story for it) and how Steve is the one with neuroses.
It also feels like a predecessor to Sex and the City, with honest discussions of sex (Vickie’s world was far from moved) and then the slide into them having a love-nest (which again we aren’t encouraged to judge).
Glenda Jackson’s performance is superb, channelling the haughtiness of Diana Rigg and the fashionable young woman energy that sits at the heart of more modern films and TV programmes (see: Sex and the City, New Girl, Ugly Betty). It’s why this film feels more recognisable to us and it’s far more interesting than her avant-garde performance in Ken Russell’s Women in Love a few years before. These characters aren’t flawless – far from it – but we enjoy and relish that, rather than attack it. A very interesting take.
The whole of the Malaga trip is comedic and yet tense, with Steve managing unexpectedly bumping into a colleague while with Vickie. Beautifully written, performed and directed.
I wonder about the ethics of not showing the other side. Steve is married after all – but it’s a small quibble for a film that feels so different and new.
Mark
9/10
