In April, Old Academy Anew brings you something different. Yes, we have dealt with movies about love before but none like this. Also, A Touch of Class is a British movie. Does that count as foreign? We vowed to give center stage to foreign movies nominated for Best Picture. Alas, that tends to happen more in this century than the previous, but we’re working on it.
A Touch of Class starts with a very sitcom vibe in music and visualization.
An enchanting vista of the Thames. People having a good time in the park: strolls, picnics, kids playing, horse rides, and more. Suddenly the camera swivels toward a softball game. Did I say suddenly? Let’s change that to abruptly. Here we get our first glance at our male protagonist, Steve Blackburn (George Segal). He and his teammates are yelling and encouraging the pitcher to strike out the man at the bat.
It’s very disturbing to see Segal so young after being used to seeing him as the Old Grampa on the ABC sitcom The Goldbergs. We often forget that old people were once young (and hot) wink wink. Interestingly, The Goldbergs is framed in the 1980s, only a decade after A Touch of Class which would make it a very interesting study in time travel if Grampa Goldberg has had a son and a daughter instead of two sons. But I digress. Let’s go back to 1973.
The batter hits the ball and as it flies Steve seeks the position to catch it. He runs backward, as one does in such occasions, and trips with a kid who just entered the park with his mother and sister. This makes him lose the ball. The mother catches the ball. The umpire calls it “fair ball,” and Steve throws a tantrum because that ball can’t be anything but a FOUL BALL.
I was like, this is gonna be one of those movies where they latch onto a word and I’m gonna make it a drinking game. Lucky (unlucky?), for me the movie never mentions balls again after this scene.
Dang. There goes my film drinking during A Touch of Class.
The mother (Glenda Jackson), our soon-to-be love interest, watches Steve’s tantrum with narrowed eyes. When he’s done, he asks for his ball. “Give me my kid, will you, mister?” she retorts acerbically, “If you’ve finished trampling on him, that is.” This is when Steve realizes there’s a kid sprawled on the grass. He picks the kid up, dusts him off, and delivers him to his mother. “Can I have my ball now, lady?”
Steve is rude as hell, but the exchange ends for some movie reason in flirty glances. The movie goes back to rolling opening credits as it follows Steve, now in a very snappy suit, to snappy music around London on his way to work. Have you ever seen a film set in London that doesn’t show a double-decker? I wonder.
The opening credits scene is to give us clues about Steve and the mother’s occupations to the movie’s theme song. Also to show that several days pass as their routines continue until Steve sees the mother pass by in a double-decker and they recognize each other.
Let’s note here that Glenda Jackson is effing beautiful and has that smoky voice… Totally see why A Touch of Class is going where it’s going.
I SEE LONDON
Our protagonists finally meet again in a very New York-ish moment when they try to catch the same cab— in the rain. Smiling, they decide to share the ride. The mother tries to give Steve the cab fare. He doesn’t accept, and she gives up after a couple of tries. They exchange small talk about the dreadful weather in London. The movie has to movie because so far it has always been pretty nice until this faithful moment, and it would be so for the rest of the story (not even a gray cloud in sight ever).
Here we learn the mother’s name, Vickie Allessio.
Steve comments on the Italian sound of it. She explains it’s her husband’s name. They have a cute back and forth to let us know that she’s divorced and the ex lives in Milan. Her stop arrives and Steve asks Vickie to tea as she alights. Out of the cab in the rain, she agrees. They set details, and Steve finishes asking her if the appointment will disrupt her day.
“Don’t cross-examine me in the rain. I’ll be there wet, but I’ll be there,” Vickie answers, semi-annoyed but splendid as London does its watery thing. The next day, she’s not wet when she arrives for their meeting. At least not yet.
The concept of “tea” is still a mystery to me. When I was a kid and watched Disney movies and it was “tea time” I always assumed it was a time in England when people drank tea— a specific time when all of the UK sat to enjoy their esoteric infusions. Later, I kind of learned that it meant supper. In the end, it seems it could be just any meal since Vickie and Steve are scheduled for tea at 4:00 pm.
Upon arrival, Steve asks Vickie to lunch the next day right there in the lobby before he even says hello while on a phone call. A landline call, remember we are in the 1970s. Her perplexed answer is, “We haven’t had tea yet.” He gives a silly retort and she continues, “Do you only eat and drink? I know nothing about you except your name and that you play baseball (it’s softball, but whatever).” She tilts her head. “From the way you played last Sunday, it’s obviously not what you do for a living.”
Steve starts reciting his details like someone creating a dating profile: in insurance, married, lives around the corner from where Disraeli used to live, two kids, and a Leo. He asks her for lunch the next day again. Her answer, “I think we ought to see how tea goes.”
The Disraeli location comes at least three times, and I don’t understand the correlation. Today, I can take the time and Google who or what that is, but should it have meant something immediately for the viewer? Since this is a British movie, they would have probably understood the reference at the time, but I don’t go to the movies to do homework later.
I blame superhero movies/shows and their Easter Eggs.
Imagine one hundred years from now someone watching a show and wondering what a Kardashian is… Let that one sink in.
Steve finishes his conversation with Derek. Vickie asks about Derek, and Steve informs her Derek is his male secretary. With those words. Is Derek a common female name in the UK? That unnecessary specification of gender throws me off. I just can’t figure out why. Perhaps, it is because beyond unnecessary, it feels forced. Maybe it’s just me.
Once seated, the subject of livelihood is raised by Steve; Vickie’s in the rag trade. Her words, not mine. “Buy or Sell?” asks Steve. “I steal,” answers Vickie in that direct way of hers. She takes upscale brand designs and repurposes them to be made with cheap materials by her bosses in New York.
Copyright infringement? Corporate Espionage? Piracy? Take your pick.
“It’s just rags,” the movie seems to whisper as it elbows us, winking. Steve wonders if Vickie learned this skill in Paris. No, it was Milan. Enters Mr. Allessio, but he’s not in the same business. His business is charm, something that comes very easy for the Italians.
In 1973, that comment might have been cute. Not so much today, but many still use the same clichés to talk about Italians and for some reason the French too. Maybe it’s the way they speak. Those languages’ origins are too seductive compared to the West Germanic inflections of the English tongue. Those gosh darn Latin-begotten tongues and their innate sensuality— aren’t called Romance Languages just for kicks, right? Tee Hee.
They trade spousal statistics. Steve caps his with, “We’ve been married for 11 years, and not once in all that time have I ever been unfaithful to her in the same city.” Vickie looks at him quizzically; perhaps she likes his frankness. “Where is she now?” Steve replies, smiling, “Out of town,” then asks Vickie to lunch the next day. He details the place, basically a by-the-hour hotel.
Vickie’s answer is the best line of the effing film. “Oh, what the hell— a girl has to eat.”
9 words in A Touch of Class masterfully illuminate us about this woman.
The next day, Vickie is wearing a brown ensemble. As foreshadowing goes, this is genius. Cut to Steve asking for the check without even offering coffee because time is of the essence here. They go upstairs, only for it to become a game of 20 questions about her divorce. Annoyed, Vickie blurts, “My god you ask a lot of questions!”
Unfazed, Steve returns, “I know. People either hate it or love it. About 70/30.”
The exchange continues and, among many, the words, “quickie, divorced, not sleeping well, good healthy uninvolved sex, not a pain in the ass when it’s all over” come from Vickie’s mouth. Steve’s eyes shine with emotion at the discovery of such a liberated woman. Still, she’s not going to do it there, rushed and in a place where the bedsheets are probably changed monthly instead of daily. She suggests a weekend getaway, preferably in a sunny place away from London.
They shake hands, determined to do this the right way, in the right place.
I SEE FRANCE
Well, it’s actually Malaga with a view of Gibraltar. After investigating what place will have nice weather during the coming days, Steve looks for assignments in that area.
Luckily for our hero, sunny Malaga has a two-ship collision in need of adjusting.
This insurance term means someone detailing damages to create a report so the owner can file the proper claim. You’re welcome.
Steve goes to Vickie’s office to give her the exciting news. Now, get ready for this— it’s not a weekend but a whole week! Well, he can’t expect Vickie to upend her life and vanish for a week: she has a dog, a cat, a bird, and also two kids, and who’s going to steal fashions for seven days? Nevertheless, it’s the view of Gibraltar that seals her fate. God only knows why.
At the travel agency, Steve buys the tickets. One should be charged to the company card and he’s paying the other cash. For comedic purposes, the Spaniard Agent asks why two different methods of payment. The cash ticket is a surprise vacation for his mother, he explains. She needs the mother’s name to create the information; at the incongruence in last names, Steve clears it easily, “She remarried.” The movie has to movie, though. Vickie happens to walk by and enters to meet Steve as the agent is coming back with the tickets. “Here you are, sir. One for Mr. Blackburn and one for Mrs. Allessio.” Vickie goes, “Oh. I’ll take that. I’m Mrs. Allessio.”
The agent arches an eyebrow and, with a smug grin, singsongs “Happy Mother’s day.”
It all goes downhill from there. Steve’s wife is back in town, her parents in tow. They suggest Steve takes the wife with him since they came to see the grandkids not them. Steve tries to guilt the wife because the parents will spoil the kids rotten. The wife’s solution is to take the kids with them.
Never fear, dear reader, A Touch of Class has an ace up its sleeve.
Steve calls the agency to add the in-laws to the already long list of people he’s taking to Spain. The wife sighs, “Oh, God. It’s turning into a pilgrimage. You’d better go down alone.” Steve nods, resigned, and tells the travel agent (who happens to be the same lady from that morning pulling a double shift), “Miss Ramos, cancel my in-laws, my wife, and my children.” Her face is priceless when she confirms, “Just you and Mother.” At the other end of the line, Steve smiles, “Roger.”
From the arrival at the airport, more things conspire to make the trip a nightmare. Steve’s friend Walter (Paul Sorvino) is there and because Steve cannot say he’s with someone, they end up sitting together and Vickie with a very handsome gentleman to Steve’s great dismay.
Walter’s meddling continues at the car rental. Vickie and Steve end up in a clown car just to get away from the annoying friend and keep him from discovering their alliance. They reach the hotel grumpy and ready to smack each other. The car situation was Steve’s fault, but thanks to Vickie they need to change suites thrice until they find a decent nest and with an actual view of Gibraltar… By the time they are ready to finally get their first taste of the goodies, Steve throws his back and more shenanigans ensue.
The next day, Vickie goes to town for a while. She borrows a child from a woman (who happens to be a chatty American) to check sizes for stuff she’s buying her son. The woman tries to engage Vickie in conversation, but our heroine gives her the slip. Still, the woman extracts Vickie’s full name and place of stay. When Steve wakes up, she’s back at the hotel, sunbathing in the suite’s balcony. The goodies are finally sampled.
But as it happens, not everybody has the same aftertaste even when experiencing the same meal.
Steve doesn’t appreciate the fact that Vickie calls the experience, “Very nice,” while for him it was “Two bodies locked in heavenly transport.” His words, not mine.
An argument ensues. Its climax arises in the form of “That’s so typically American!”
“It’s a big place!” roars Steve. “Which ‘typically American’ Americans you mean? The cab drivers in New York? The coal miners in Pennsylvania? The students at Berkeley? The Mormons in Utah? The Harlem Globetrotters? How about the Daughters of the American Revolution, are those the ones you mean?”
Now, in all fairness, Steve is making a good point there.
It’s a bigass place. Conversely, Americans tend to say Europe or Africa as if they were just one big place regardless of all the different countries, cultures, and peoples in both places. So I think the lazy agglomerating goes both ways.
Mad at each other, Vickie follows Steve (for the exercise) as he plays golf with a Spanish kid, and when I say kid I mean it literally ’cause the contender couldn’t be older than 13. A Touch of Class does its cute thing as the two players place bets, only to add more bets when the kid’s cousins arrive. There is indeed a pilgrimage in this trip as the cousins of the cousins arrive to add their bets against Steve and the lot traipses from hole to hole.
Steve wins and when he raises his fist in triumph, Vickie huffs and leaves, thinking of him as petty and ridiculous for being happy after beating a child. She seems to forget that Steve would have needed to pay at least 14 times the original bet after all the added cousins. In her haste to pigeonhole Steve, she’s gone when all the cousins put the money together to pay him and he refuses to accept it. Not because of Vickie but because it was never his intention to take the money from the hustler. We know it wouldn’t have been the same the other way around.
And this is only day two of seven…
Remember Steve ain’t on holiday here. Before going to work, he informs Vickie he might be late and plans to have his supper somewhere else alone. She has no problem with it because the chatty American woman hunted her down and invited Vickie to dinner to meet her husband. You don’t need to be a clairvoyant to know where this is going. Chatty Lady is Walter’s wife, and Steve and Vickie are invited to the same restaurant for the same meal unbeknownst to each other.
They act like this is their first meeting. If they were at odds before, by the end of the night they are packing to go back to London. Steve doesn’t call to reserve tickets because that late flight is always empty. Not this time. Nope. They can’t even wait at the airport because the next available flight is at noon the following day. Back at the hotel, they thrash the room as they insult each other with the hotel concierge in the middle, begging them to stop. They kick the poor guy out in their rage, tear their clothes apart, and, well all that adrenaline and enthusiasm needs a way to be released, so yeah they bump uglies with the desired fireworks ending and all. Now we can have a nice unfaithful escapade as the Universe intended.
We are in Spain; thus amid the blissful sunny days at the beach, we have the obligatory bullfight scene.
Are bullfights Spain’s equivalent to England’s double-deckers?
Groups against animal cruelty would differ today. Films need to find other (better?) clichés.
Vickie and Steve enjoy a wonderful time. They only realize their bliss in Spain is coming to an end when a hotel employee comes with (convenient) confirmation for their flight later that day.
Steve is selfish and “American” (according to Vickie) so they agree to get a flat in SoHo and keep the affair running.
I SEE CHINATOWN ADJACENT
Back to not doing homework for a movie but doing it for a review. London’s Chinatown is in an area of Westminster bordering with SoHo, so our lovebirds make their nest close enough that we see lots of Chinese store signs but not many Asians. I guess A Touch of Class wanted to keep it exotic, but I couldn’t help but embrace the Last Night in SoHo (2021) and Amazon’s rendition of Gilman’s Good Omens (2018) vibes, including the naughty courtesan neighbors.
There are a lot of illogical things happening in A Touch of Class, from the possibility of adding and subtracting people mere hours before a flight, to the incongruence of choosing your own seat on a plane, to give a customer a defective car just to get rid of them, changing rooms several times (or going back to it) as if the hotel is empty, the all-important shifting of “bedsides” only to remain on the original in subsequent nights— just to mention a few.
I get these and other things happen to make A Touch of Class a comedy.
Nonetheless, suspension of disbelief can only go so far before it becomes a distraction. Also, I don’t mind it, but the depiction of the one gay character working with Vickie (and probably another one working with Steve) would have today’s keyboard warriors in arms. It wasn’t insulting, just heavy-handed enough to be noticeable.
Funny thing here is, I can relate to Steve so much is not even funny. I was an insurer and certainly promiscuous. But I can also absolutely relate to Vickie, not because I’m divorced from an Italian gentleman but due to her caustic pragmatism. I also went to a different country with total strangers more than once, hoping for the best. It was a gamble to do that in 1973, and it’s still a gamble in this century. Vickie and I could have ended up chopped off and buried in some foreign land just because we are the adventurous type.
That’d have been a whole ‘nother movie and headstone inscription.
Still, A Touch of Class feels current in its themes and situations, especially nowadays with the hook-up culture being the topical norm, not the exception. Nevertheless, the film’s true genius is its final act and the unexpected denouement. A climax very few directors will have the cojones to choose today. Is this a decent comedy? Yes. Is this a nice love story? Heck Yes. Do I recommend it? I certainly do.
I’m going to give this movie 8 out of 10. Steve was a bit childish, but I love an acid queen and Vickie was the embodiment of that.
A Touch of Class is available on Amazon Prime Video
