Would Paul Varjak (George Peppard) fall for Holly Golightly if she didn't look like Audrey Hepburn? That's the question I kept asking myself as I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's, the story of a batty woman whose mere presence appears to seduce her downstairs neighbour, a published author. She's a socialite too busy for housework; he'd be destitute if he didn't whore himself out to a rich dame (Patricia Neal). Both are accepted by the champagne crowd, but when it comes down to it, Paul can't even afford a mid-priced gift for Holly when they go shopping together at Tiffany's.

The film opens with a literal image: Holly arrives at the famed jewelry boutique just after sunrise with a pastry and a drink. The store is closed--she's there to window shop. This is the only scene in which we'll see Holly alone, and in a way, it exquisitely illustrates what we'll come to learn about Ms. Golightly: she likes to be around money. Will she always be on the outside looking in?

When Holly meets Paul, she's not immediately smitten. In fact, he reminds her of her brother, Fred, and she takes to calling him that. It's not necessarily love at first sight for Paul, either; she fascinates him more than anything else. (Among her quirks: a cat named Cat and a job that entails sneaking information to Sally Tomato, a jailed mobster.) At a soirée, Paul meets one of her exes, who characterizes Holly as "a real phony." By that he means, a phony who believes in what she's saying.

The more he learns about her, the less platonic Paul's interest in Holly becomes. And after spending a full day with her in the city during which they act like teenagers, he's hooked, but her agenda has always been to marry into aristocracy, and Paul is not her ideal.

There's almost as much to dislike about Breakfast at Tiffany's as there is to adore. Peppard is a solid leading man, formal but fun and non-threateningly handsome. Hepburn is radiant, of course, and though many will finish the picture remembering her as a motor-mouthed whirling dervish, she achieves in her performance moments of uncommon subtlety: witness the mixed emotions in her face just after the odd couple's first encounter, when Peppard is dragged away by Neal before Paul can bid the Sing Sing-bound Holly goodbye. Director Blake Edwards doesn't even cover this reaction in close-up, but we see it, we feel it. Audrey Hepburn is a presence.

Paul, in what is apparently quite a departure from Truman Capote's book, considers Holly a woman in need of saving: his hero instincts cause him to first care for then love her. Unfortunately, quite a few other angles are left unexplored, such as Holly's constantly mistaking Paul for her beloved sibling. Though we're rooting for them to unite, consider that any sexual relationship between the two would have incestuous overtones. Breakfast at Tiffany's generally refuses to get down and dirty: Holly is profoundly troubled--certifiable, really--and the filmmakers are convinced that a man is her cure-all. I'd blame the period, were it not for the fact that Hollywood movies are still promoting that same dubious notion.

I can blame the period for such nonsense as Mickey Rooney's buck-toothed portrayal of irate Japanese tenant Mr. Yunioshi. I cringe now because yellowface is so icky, but, turning off those receptors and settling into the mindset of a 1961 audience member, Yunioshi's scenes aren't even funny. Rooney is too hostile in the role to garner laughs. Holly's out-of-left-field "Moon River" serenade also dates the proceedings, in a bad way. The sight of her in a frock, sitting on her windowsill with a guitar, is so absurd, it inadvertently becomes the character's defining moment: yep, she's nuts.

Paramount's DVD version of Breakfast at Tiffany's sparkles like Holly's tiara. The 1.85:1 letterboxed image (enhanced for 16x9 sets) will not be mistaken for that of a new movie, but it has unusually accurate colour for the time, as well as excellent contrast. Grain is evident throughout, though conversely that allows for terrific detail--wallpaper patterns are discernible, as are the designs on Paul's numerous ties. The transfer is above average except in the opening credits sequence, which has fluctuating brightness; it's a severe flaw, and it starts things off on the wrong foot. Compression artifacts aren't evident, probably due to the disc's generous dual-layer encoding.

The audio, too, has been remastered, in 5.1 Dolby Digital. Henry Mancini's score benefits the most--it sounds as good as or better than a soundtrack CD would, and instrumentation is definitively split between the various speakers. Any low end occurs only in the music. Some ambient F/X have been placed in the rears, but it doesn't sound showy. The only supplement is an amusing trailer--I'm surprised a bigger deal wasn't made for this disc, since only a few years back, Breakfast at Tiffany's was released in a collectible VHS box set packed with goodies.

Aside: Hepburn's manic delivery inspired me to turn on the closed-captions at one point, and I immediately noticed heavy paraphrasing. The script has good dialogue going for it, and it's a shame that some part of its home video audience won't be able to enjoy that in full.-Bill Chambers