Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/798465
DGA QUARTERLY 27 The dance turns to its penultimate moment when they do the number taken from Singin' in the Rain—which Tiffany had shown Pat on her iPod in the studio, with Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor jumping off the desk. The characters made their own version of this with windmill arms and dancing in unison. We then suddenly find ourselves ar- riving at the previously established dramatic moment of the "big move" that Tiffany insisted they do, but which they never successfully prac- ticed. It feels like the culmination of the entire film with a suspense that it could all break apart like some ill-fated airplane in the sky. With the dance over, we return to the emotional predicament that interlocked Tiffany always and most especially ear- lier in the evening: Pat's estranged wife Nikki is there, and his heart and attention and his point of view are locked upon her. The points of view here change multiple times—from Pat and Tiffany embracing, to the entire family celebrating, Pat seeing Nikki over Tiffany's shoulder, walking toward his estranged wife, and Pat's father as he watches all of this in alarm. The camera then stays on Tiffany as she walks away, leaving the shadows and pools of light of the ballroom to the luminous, soft practical lights of the stairwell. Now, coat flowing behind her like a cape of retreat, Tiffany descends the same winding marble staircase in defeat that she had previously climbed with promise and hope with Pat. She runs across the marble lobby, seen from above through the balcony railing in the exact same isolating bird's eye master from which she first spied Pat's wife at the beginning of the evening—only now as Nikki was coming in, Tiffany is running out. She leaves the Benjamin Franklin Hotel barefoot, pulling on a discarded shoe like Cinderella. She's outside, alone in the cold, escaping into her emotional solitude, keeping her sadness private. She feels small and isolated. These shots tended to stay wider so you could feel that coldness and aloneness. Pat runs down the empty city streets behind Tiffany—the inverse of all the running earlier in the movie. He pres- ents her with his last letter and insists she read it against her wishes. She sees it is addressed to her and he declares his love. She asks, "You love me?" He answers quietly, "Yeah I do." She stares. "Okay." And she kisses him. The camera circles them and goes to the letter clutched in her hand, the currency of their entire secret contract that has lead them to the dance and their union. The camera then zips straight back a hundred yards down the empty street of holiday lights. The exhilaration of the pullout remains intimate as it leaves them in context of the larger frame and world, together. 11 12 13 14 11 12 13 14