OLIVIA JONES
Harold and Maude: A Story of Life
There are few movies that can inspire and unsettle viewers at the same time. Hal Ashby’s Harold and Maude, however, does just that. Released in 1971, Harold and Maude originally didn’t garner many viewers. Roger Ebert, esteemed movie critic, wrote in 1972 “and so what we get, finally, is a movie of attitudes. Harold is death, Maude life, and they manage to make the two seem so similar that life's hardly worth the extra bother. The visual style makes everyone look fresh from the Wax Museum… Nothing more to report today. Harold doesn't even make pallbearer.” This brutal review, along with a one out of four stars, seems to discredit the movie right there. However, as years went by and dark humor came more into style, Harold and Maude slowly came out of the shadows.
To go against what Roger Ebert says is a big task, but it’s a task I’m willing to take on. Harold and Maude is hands down one of the best movies I’ve ever seen. With the perfect mixture of humor, macabre themes, and inspirational moments, Harold and Maude takes the viewer through the story of a quirky 79 year old woman and her relationship with a death-obsessed, lanky teenage boy.
Harold’s existence is pathetic. He spends his time staging fake suicides to impress his mother, which never works. In fact, in the first scene of the movie, when his mother sees him hanging from a noose, she exasperatedly replies “I suppose you think that's very funny, Harold... Oh, dinner at eight. And do try and be a little more vivacious.” This pattern continues as his mother tries to find him a wife despite his unspoken protests. As these forced meetings continue, Harold (Bud Cort), during his regular funeral watching episodes, came into contact with Maude (Ruth Gordon). With her bright yellow umbrella amidst her black surroundings, she immediately stands out to him. And thus begins a beautiful, somewhat weird relationship.
Harold and Maude begin to do everything together. She’s the first person to open him up to the world. Viewers begin to see Harold smiling more with this real human connection. It seems irrelevant to him that Maude is almost 60 years older than him-- if anything, that draws him more to her. He sees her as someone who has lived life fully, full of exciting experiences and lessons learned. In contrast, he is a sullen boy whose only sense of excitement is from his unusual preoccupation with death. The two go on little adventures together, from picnics in the park to watching fireworks over the water.
One of their most poignant excursions to me was when they were sitting under a tree on a grassy hill. Harold exclaimed that the beautiful surroundings made him want to do a somersault. When he exclaimed that he wanted to do so, Maude encouraged him to. With this prompting, Harold lets free and rolls around in the grass, laughing away. Maude begins howling and laughing along. Her howling reminded me of Walt Whitman’s famous “ barbaric yawp” in Song of Myself. This scene was an example of pure human form and raw, real relationships.
The soundtrack also brought this movie to life. Cat Stevens brought the perfect amount of soul and inspiration into an already quirky, somewhat unsettling movie. In his famous If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out, Stevens talks about taking life by the horns, for lack of better words, and with upbeat acoustics and a distinct voice, his music fits with the movie’s pleasant scenery. The placement of each of his songs emphasized what was happening in the movie along with highlighting the highs and lows. By the credit scene, I had already bought Cat Stevens’ album.
My favorite quote from this movie, and one I think sums it up pretty well, is uttered by Maude as she’s rushed to the hospital. During the ambulance ride, Harold exclaimed, “I love you!” and to this, Maude replied, “Oh, Harold… That’s wonderful. Now go love some more.” With that quote right there, Maude exposed the true meaning behind the film. Behind the gruesome suicides, funerals, and macabre humor, this movie is one full of life. The relationship Harold had with Maude exposed him to life. He had been so focused on escaping life and dying that he didn’t realize that the key was to live. Here was Maude who, as we learn throughout the movie, had gone through a lot, and was still able to live and really live. She came into Harold’s life at just the right time; she gave him the tools to be okay after she passed. And in the last scene of the movie, as Harold is dancing away playing a banjo, it’s clear that he’s thankful for that.