Pretty woman, walking on the streets, pretty woman, the kind I'd like to meet

Rating: 8/10 (12 September 2013)

This is from Roy Orbinson 1964's hit song that reached its cinematic posterity 26 years later, with Garry Marshall's film of the same name. Oddly enough, when taken in the context of the film, the lyrics take a totally different significance since the titular 'pretty woman' doesn't quite walk on the streets for pleasure.
Of course, the song is used for the film's trademark sequence when Vivian tries new clothes from prestigious French sounding shops, fulfilling every little girl's fantasy. But there's something genuinely appealing in Julia Robert's performance, a sort of child-like eagerness to embrace a one-week dream and do whatever she wants because she got woman's most cherished accessory, not a handbag, not a lipstick or a mirror, but a credit card. Don't take that statement as patronizing and misogynistic please, "Sex and the City" convey the same message, and bluntly assumes it. What differentiates Vivian from the other feminist icons though relies on the roots of her constant enthusiasm, forever incarnated by Robert's unique smile  and irresistible giggles.
Indeed, no matter how much fun she has while seizing her luxurious days, we know that she's happy, more than anything, because she's in love. And the man might be rich, handsome and powerful, like a modernization of the 'Charming Prince' figure, there's something that oddly rings true in that peculiar love story. And this is a credit to two fine performances from Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, and a clever screenplay that doesn't take its premise for granted, starting from the obligatory meeting, which is the hit-or-miss of romantic comedies. Gere is Edward Lewis, he can't drive a friend's car and find his way to the hotel, he meets a prostitute named Vivian, she's not only attractive, but she's smart. She knows about car and end up driving him to the hotel. So, when he invites for just one night, that will turns into one week, plot-wise, the machine is working.
"I want the fairy tale" she admits later, with an innocence that sweeps off all the dirt that has tarnished her life since she started walking on the streets. Never in the film, had she felt more sincere and more naively appealing. All little girls want the fairy tale, and that quote, if one thing, highlights the fact there still is that 'little girl' sparkle in Vivian's eyes, and her profession is only a logical consequence to unfortunate circumstances. But the film doesn't fall in the patronizing trap either, Vivian needs Edwards, but so does he. There's a clever parallel established by these two people's jobs, Edward buys out companies facing economic difficulties, to sell parts of them and make more profits. As she says, both screw people for money, and Edward is no more honorable than Vivian.
Both hearts reflect the other's truth, that's the mark of true love and that's exactly what happens to Edward and Vivian. There's a nice subplot involving one company Edward doesn't want to buy because he likes its chairman, who's a sort of fatherly figure, wonderfully played by Ralph Bellamy, and it's only after his experience with Vivian that he realizes he doesn't enjoy his job as she did and might have chosen the wrong path for some obscure Oedipal reasons. Vivian, didn't embrace her career with more passion either, but maybe she kept on hoping of a real love, one that would be incarnated by the only thing she couldn't give her customers: a kiss. And the pay-off comes when she tenderly kisses a sleeping Edward in the mouth, at that point, we know she loves him.
"Pretty Woman" doesn't overplay the whole Pygmalion-theme, that one is handled by Hector Elizondo, the hotel manager who, from despising Vivian, grows fond on her and teaches her how to properly behave. But the film doesn't use their archetypes for the sake of cheap laughs, it doesn't need to, Roberts is hilarious because she stays natural in a world she doesn't belong to, and never condescending either, Edward is inspired by her spontaneity, something that cruelly lacks in his work of sophistication and cynical materialism, incarnated by his friend and lawyer, played by Joe Constanza. Constanza, as the only true antagonist of the film, is responsible of one of the film's saddest parts, after Gere comforted him that Vivian wasn't a spy. After being approached like a cheap prostitute, you could feel she was truly hurt by Edward's betrayal.
And this is what the film is about, two persons who don't want to be reduced to condescending label, one in the highest, and another in the lowest extreme. Being treated like a prostitute is the ultimate insult for Vivian because it totally negates her struggle to let her personality finally bloom, as Edward knows he's not that rich prick who only thinks in green bills. It's all about becoming yourself. I don't intend to make the film sound like an existential journey; it's still a heart-warming comedy but more intelligent and subtle than any comedy made today. And I'm sure in retrospect; many critics who despised the films would feel guilty for having labeled "Pretty Woman" too straightforwardly as a banal and commercial romantic comedy.
Rom-com, chick-flick, Cinderella story, feel-good story  cinematic jargon is rich of epithets to describe Garry Marshall's "Pretty Woman". Yet these words are too convenient and tend to veil the true poignancy and endearing chemistry between the two leads. Yes, we have the rich workaholic businessman with a disastrous sentimental life, meeting the streetwise hooker, with a heart of gold, but when played by Richard Gere and Julia Roberts whose shining smile illuminates the screen like a lamppost in Hollywood Boulevard, the film turns out to far better than some cynical minds might expect.
At the end, I was left wondering: aren't the so-called stereotypes the names we give to obligatory plot devices when they're wrongly handled?