In Chapter 5 as Film as Social Practice IV, Graeme Turner discusses the importance of film audiences and how they form perceptions of characters and narratives. The classic 199

0 film Pretty Woman (Garry Marshall) encompasses many of the themes that Turner, as well as film critic Laura Mulvey, speaks about in their prospective pieces.

      One of the first aspects of an audience’s connection to a film that Turner speaks about is the actual casting – who is in what role and what does their persona outside the film indicate about the character they are playing? Is the hero a tough, gun-holding type? Is he witty and erratic? Is the heroine a sex symbol, or seen as a type of girl-next-door by viewers? These are all questions that a casting agent has to think about. Turner points out: “If we cast Brad Pitt, we do not have to persuade the audience that the character is attractive to women; if we cast Woody Allen, we might have to demonstrate that.” Pretty Woman boasts a leading cast of Richard Gere as Edward Lewis, a wealthy workaholic and Julia Roberts as Vivian Ward, a quirky, beautiful prostitute. In the context of American cinema, we can almost presume before the first shot what will unfold; the public views Gere as a sophisticated, and, to some, sexy male figure while Roberts is beautiful, funny and America’s Sweetheart. Casting Roberts as a trashy prostitute only hastens the plot – as a spectator, we are simply “waiting for her inevitable emergence as an object of romantic desire.” (Turner). We know that, inevitably, Gere will fall head-over-heels in love with Roberts, just as viewers across America have through her previous films and off-camera charisma. Before we even set foot in the theatre, we are rooting for the seemingly unlikely love affair that will ultimately bloom between Edward and his escort, Vivian.

       That said, it is possible that my view of the situation is severely skewed since I was born a mere two months before the movie’s premiere. My evaluation of the stars, even taking into account the specific movies that had been released before this film (Mystic Pizza and Steel Magnolia’s for Roberts and An Officer and a Gentleman and American Gigolo for Gere). Turner also speaks about this phenomenon; since the persona of a star off-set influences the way a spectator views a character s/he is playing, it is also true that the future works and paparazzi-recorded events influence how the film is perceived. Turner, while talking about Jennifer Lopez’s role in Out of Sight (1998), says: “her characterization…was free of many of the contextual complications that would now be available to those who watch it on TV.” I cannot fully judge how audiences in 1990 who flocked to the theaters viewed the stars of the film. For example, Richard Gere, for me, does not represent a hunky actor in the same way that Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp would because of generational differences. However, 19 years ago, and deducing from what types of movies and roles he played before Pretty Woman, I can deduce that to many women, he would be the attractive, sexy actor in the film. Time, in particular the continuing careers and fan infatuation with stars’ personal lives, changes the perspective of audiences years after the initial release of a film.

Throughout the film, director Garry Marshall uses Julia Roberts’ body as the drawing factor in a frame. In fact, our very first shot of her is her behind while she is sleeping, and Marshall slowly and seductively reveals the rest of her body to the audience, drawing them in. In Laura Mulvey’s article, Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema, she explains that the female form is the dominant viewpoint that often drives a picture – films are made for the, as she calls it, the ‘male gaze.’ In her days as a prostitute on the street, Roberts is often shown in a long shot, showing her entire body, complete with scant clothes, to intrigue the audience. Furthermore, Mulvey says, the male lead in the picture, the one driving the sexual plot, represents the gaze of the audience: “As the spectator identifies with the main male protagonist, he projects his look on to that of his like, his screen surrogate, so that the power of the male protagonist as he controls events coincides with the active power of the erotic look, both giving a satisfying sense of omnipotence.” When Roberts and Gere first meet, we identify with his gaze, with his actions. As they begin to talk, we are in the car with Edward, looking at Vivian’s bare back through the window. The camera finds angles and zooms that expose the female form. Later in the movie, as we watch Roberts’ transformation from hooker to lady, the film exemplifies another of Mulvey’s points: “The determining male gaze projects its phantasy on to the female figure which is styled accordingly.” Vivian is literally transformed, and it is Edward who controls how she looks, what she wears, how she acts, etc. The classic scene in which Roberts emerges in a long red evening gown, we see Gere bestow a necklace upon her and literally circle her, taking in her form and beauty. In essence, this is the male fantasy: to create one’s own ideal woman. Marshall uses Roberts’ body as the display the female figure, drawing in the “male gaze” that assists in driving the plot.

            Pretty Woman uses casting and the female form to drive its plot and capture audiences. We, as an audience, assume the eventual transformation of Roberts from a prostitute to a lady of class in part because we see her as ‘America’s Sweetheart’ rather than a true sex symbol. While both the lead actor’s lives may have changed connotations in the past 19 years, their reputations still draw this type of reaction from an audience watching the film on DVD or TV. Furthermore, Marshall employs Mulvey’s ‘male gaze’ by using Roberts’ body as a drawing factor for the film. I believe Pretty Woman has remained a classic film in American culture because of its stars, their prevalence to popular culture and the desire the film provokes, whether consciously or subconsciously, from its audience.