Youth and Alienation in the Late 60s

Rating: 10/10 (21 May 2006)

It's funny how THE GRADUATE has become to symbolize a dissatisfied generation. Benjamin Braddock, the hero, the boy who came home flooded in early achievements, the boy with promise, walking around in a complete daze while his very suburban parents coo and squeal like gushing teenagers about his success and predict more to come. Benjamin Braddock, the boy who has been given an abstract prediction of the future by a family friend in the film's landmark quote: "Plastics." But will he act on this word? Will he act on anything? This is the crux of the matter: Benjamin, it seems, is one of those early over-achievers fulfilling other people's dreams, while he basks under the sun, literally suspended in his parents' pool, caught between security, complacency, and the uncertain future.
The thing is, Benjamin is virgin to life itself. Forget that a certain Mrs. Robinson has gone into infamy as the older woman who seduced a boy half her age for unexplained reasons other than a perverse, predatory attraction which hints at matters left unexplored not only between the two -- their affair seems to happen with the passion of lovers engaged in the mechanics of sex. Her appearance in the movie, so aggressive it almost emasculates Benjamin, is a suffocating reminder of those Oedipal ties to the past -- the female womb (notice the physical resemblance between Mrs. Robinson and Mrs. Braddock) -- that demand dependence to its whims and decries any chance of true rebellion and severance.
Mrs. Robinson is THE GRADUATE's most interesting character. In fact, her villainy should be taken into note because she literally does two things: robs Benjamin from his cradle in what can only constitute as sexual harassment, and by hooking him onto her she also makes him the fall guy for no reason than her own empty life, her shattered dreams, and a need for repetition going down to the next generation. For the most of her initial appearances, she is seen speaking in haughty, sophisticated tones. She looks down at Benjamin, whom she has chosen as her boy toy. He is to fall for her allure: indeed, she is very beautiful and self-possessed. It's only when the focus threatens to leave her high and dry because of suburban complacency and shifts to Elaine, her daughter, that her true self comes out.
Elaine is also an interesting character but for reasons that have less to do with her presence as a sacrificial lamb late in the movie. I believe she and Benjamin are little more than pawns for their parents' self-congratulation as if they were marveling at how wonderful their children turned out. Her affection towards Benjamin is weakly displayed, and makes her horror at learning of his affair with her mother the only flaw. I felt that while she did like Ben, she hadn't precisely fallen in love with him to be that hurt. Also, her reaction to her mother's betrayal is never seen so it must be imagined, and when she finally does take the stand against her marriage of sacrifice/convenience, it looks more like a need for a satisfying conclusion.
However, THE GRADUATE, while it does satisfy, it also deceives. What awaits Ben and Elaine as they ride off together in this bus? They are separate even in the end, which leads me to believe that they've got even more problems ahead than merging into a unit. With so much shared personal history together I can't see them maintaining a happy end -- but since the story embraces its own iconoclastic conformity in having Ben get the girl his parents wanted him to marry in the first place, a wobbly life together is what they can face. After all, they're barely kids escaping their homes and about to face the real world for the first time. No film had told this story about leaving the nest for good up until then.
This is a fantastic film that broke the standards of transition from scene to scene, has that haunting score by Simon and Garfunkel, and has incredible, hallmark performances. Anne Bancroft, not a glamorous woman, is as mentioned before the film's rotten heart concealed in that husky voice, those dark eyes, and that aura of pure, frigid sex. She's a reminder of the perversions that can arise when you do not know yourself and allow a mistake to taint your life. Dustin Hoffman, also not a handsome matinée idol and having a frog-like voice, lent a degree of credibility to his character who could (at the time) be your next-door neighbor and is great in showing how displaced and limp his character is against what a world wants from him, how the world sees him, and how the two women in his life affect him. Katharine Ross also has a difficult role: her character is less defined and has to convince that she's about to "graduate" from being a girl and becoming a woman in love for the first time.