OSCAR WILD DAY 12: GIGI (1958)

If Jeffrey Epstein had a favorite Best Picture winner, it was probably this one. There is a hard ceiling for this film’s rating, and it almost feels wrong to call it adequate due to the subject matter. Despite the cringey plot, there is no denying that this film was made with an eye for style and flair, but that’s not enough to make modern audiences forget what’s so wrong with the story in the first place.

Paris, 1900. Gaston Lachaille (Louis Jourdan), a wealthy 30-something playboy, finds himself bored with every aspect of his life except his occasional visits to the home of Madame Alvarez (Hermione Gingold) and her spirited young granddaughter Gigi (Leslie Caron). Gaston and Gigi have fun together in an older brother-younger sister kind of way, teasing each other to no end, but genuinely enjoying each other’s’ company. Gigi’s family hatches a plan to train her to become Gaston’s mistress- a family tradition of sorts. The plan goes awry, as Gigi and Gaston each find reasons to object, despite a mutual attraction.

Gigi’s age is never mentioned in the film, but I learned that the book it is based on makes it clear that she is around 15 or 16. Leslie Caron was 25 during filming, which helps soften the age gap, and probably helped keep the film from running afoul of the Hays Code. But let’s be clear- Gaston is in his 30s, which means a major plot point of this film is the grooming of a teenager to become the secret lover of an older man. As a father of two girls, I cannot dry heave enough at the thought of this.

Director Vincente Minnelli is in his element, filming once again in the luscious scenery of Paris (he directed a previous Best Picture winner, An American in Paris). He has a knack for showcasing and perhaps even satirizing the high society vibe, especially in the restaurant scene where socialites gather to gawk at each other and share gossip. It’s a see-and-be-seen environment that feels like an upscale turn-of-the-century equivalent to today’s try-hard wannabe social media influencers. The intentionally overdone approach to the gossiping scoundrels is artful and amusing, but it doesn’t make the pedophilic nature of Gaston and Gigi’s relationship any more tolerable.

Prior to watching this film, I was vaguely familiar with the song “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.” It’s been used in a variety of ways over the years, especially in pro-gender equality marketing. Now seeing the film that it comes from, the song is ruined for me. It’s a winking pedo-groomer anthem, and it has no place in decent society.

When modern folk like me watch this movie and realize that its Best Picture win means that a bunch of old men decided this story was worth celebrating, it doesn’t help Hollywood’s reputation for being a seedy town where old men prey upon young impressionable girls. Gigi’s Oscar win is made even more confounding when you realize that Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece Vertigo came out this same year and was misunderstood and underappreciated to the point of only getting nominated a couple of technical awards. You can have all the style you want, and Gigi has plenty of it, but the ick factor will catch up with you in time, leaving this film as one of the weaker and less defensible Best Picture winners in Oscar history.

FINAL RATING: 3 out of 5