What To Watch Wednesday: The Apartment (1960)

There is a moment in my life that comes to mind whenever I re-watch Billy Wilder’s The Apartment. I was having dinner in a restaurant with a woman I had been dating for some time and with whom I was madly in love. We were seated perpendicular to each other at a corner table by a window, and we were leaning into one another while we ate, joyously lost in our own little world of flirtation and laughter. At one point, an elderly woman stopped by our table on her way out the door and said, “It gives me such joy to see two people so much in love. You two clearly enjoy being in love with each other. Don’t ever lose that.” Sadly, we did lose it. Things happened. Choices were made. And we found ourselves needing to move on. Heartbreaking, yes, but that’s how it crumbles, cookie-wise (if you’ll forgive me using a line from the film). Still, my memory of that moment and what the woman said has stayed with me through the years, and it helps me remember how wonderful it is to be madly, head-over-heels in love. And, it has become apparent to me that this feeling is exactly what The Apartment is celebrating in the characters of C.C. Baxter and Fran Kubelik.

I don’t know if it is due to Wilder’s direction, the screenplay, or the unmistakable chemistry between Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine, but something happens between Baxter and Kubelik whenever they are together, one-on-one, without the intrusion of other characters or plot developments. When the two interact, they both just come alive with such ease and comfort which quickly turns to love. And, what is more, you are happy for them as they discover their feelings for one another.

For instance, there is real joy in watching Baxter prepare a spaghetti dinner for Kubelik, who has been recovering in his apartment from an attempted suicide. Yes, suicide...in a romantic comedy. And, yes, the plot details and a bit of the dialogue venture into some dark, seedy territory at times, but Baxter and Kubelik never head in that direction when they are together. Realistic or not, you can see how Baxter’s affection and goodwill start to bring Kubelik out of her depression. And, you want to believe that the love from someone who cares about you can lift any darkness from your life, just like Baxter does for Kubelik.

Whatever the reason for this little bit of film magic, The Apartment, with all its goofiness and filmic stylization, pulls off the nifty trick of putting you squarely on the side of its protagonists. And you route for them through all (and despite of) the plot beats of a conventional romantic comedy. I suppose what I’m really getting at here is the film’s sense of hope. Baxter and Kubelik hope for success; they hope for happiness: and they hope for love. And, if a movie can get you to believe in that hope for even the tiniest moment, doesn’t that make it worth watching?