Whenever a successful stage production is adapted for the screen, it’s a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” scenario. If liberties are taken to make it work cinematically, it can upset or at best disappoint those loyal to the original. On the other hand, if efforts aren’t made to reimagine the beloved material as a film, the work can feel stage-bound and bore moviegoers. My Fair Lady is one of the most faithful adaptations of a hit theatrical musical I can think of that also manages to work beautifully as a film. It was a monster hit in its day, appealing to enough fans of the Broadway show as well as audiences seeing it for the first time in cinemas. Aside from minor tinkering and tightening of songs and a repositioning of the intermission, little else has been changed.

I give credit for its phenomenal success to all involved, from producer Jack Warner’s acquiescence in casting Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins (after bigger stars were considered) to his pragmatic decision to hire Audrey Hepburn, a major film star, as Eliza Dolittle. By doing so, he lets everyone know this is a movie and not a filmed stage production. Director George Cukor manages to stay out of the way as an auteur. He trusts this material while letting his performers shine, and he keeps everything humming along like a well-oiled machine. Cecil Beaton’s production design, sets, and costumes are iconic (with ample, uncredited assistance). Then there are the actors: Harrison and Hepburn, who have immaculate timing and marvelous chemistry on screen; the cool and comfortable Wilfrid Hyde-White; handsome and foolish stalker Jeremy Brett; and Oscar-nominees Stanley Holloway (reprising his Broadway role) and the delightful Gladys Cooper.

Isobel Elsom, Gladys Cooper, Jeremy Brett, Audrey Hepburn, Rex Harrison, and Wilfrid Hyde-White.

Prior to production, the biggest fuss had to do with Julie Andrews. She originated the role of Eliza on stage but had never made a film, and few at the time predicted she would win an Oscar for her screen debut in Mary Poppins. My Fair Lady was the most expensive movie musical to date, and Jack Warner felt he needed an established star to guarantee healthy returns. After Cary Grant (and others) passed on Higgins, Warner hired the role’s originator, Rex Harrison, who was not a novice to the silver screen, by any means. In fact, he had played many leading roles, but he didn’t have box-office clout. Warner then turned to securing a bigger star to play Eliza. And despite the film’s success, as well as positive reviews for Hepburn, the snubbing of Andrews remained an underlying complaint after it opened. Adding to the controversy, most of Hepburn’s songs were dubbed by Marni Nixon. It was kept under wraps but is obvious to anyone who knows Hepburn’s own singing voice from Funny Face or Breakfast at Tiffany’s. These adverse reactions likely cost her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress, but I feel Hepburn deserved the recognition and is absolutely wonderful as Eliza.

Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison.

The dubbing in this movie becomes off-putting for a different reason. Harrison signed on as Higgins under the condition he would not have to prerecord any of his numbers. He insisted it was impossible to perform them the same way twice, since he “talk-sings” them, weaving in and out of melody and rhythmic dialogue with improvised flair. This artistic demand led to a wireless microphone being invented by the sound department, allowing them to capture audio while the cameras rolled. The results are fantastic, fresh, and of course in perfect synchronization with the image. But the natural ambiance on a film set doesn’t blend well with the boxy ambiance of a recording booth, which was used for everyone else. Mirroring organic tones, echoes, and background noise to match dialogue or Harrison’s live singing proved impossible. I’m not sure why it’s so apparent here, but the side-by-side comparisons give it away each time. The shifts between “on set” sound and “recording booth” sound are obvious and often occur several times within a song.

This has nothing to do with “ghost singers,” either. Stanley Holloway performs his own numbers in the film, and Audrey Hepburn provides her own vocals on “Just You Wait, Henry Higgins” plus a handful of additional phrases throughout. Both actors are filmed to their own prerecorded tracks, yet it comes off as phony when compared to Harrison’s live work. If you also consider that roughly 80 percent of Hepburn’s singing is dubbed by Ms. Nixon, and Jeremy Brett’s voice is doubled by Bill Shirley, who provided the singing for Prince Phillip in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, you have a flaw that detracts and distracts. It doesn’t ruin the picture, however.

The real star of My Fair Lady is George Bernard Shaw, who wrote the play that was used for source material, entitled Pygmalion. It wasn’t a period piece when it was first presented in 1913. The plot and characters were contemporary and had much to say about society’s preconceptions of men and women and their social positions. Lerner and Loewe achieved the impossible when they adapted it into a hit musical in 1956. Even Rodgers and Hammerstein had given it a go before throwing in the towel. But Alan Jay Lerner, who penned the screenplays for Gigi and An American in Paris and won Oscars for both, manages to keep the humor and essence of Shaw’s writing intact. That’s no small feat. Shaw himself struggled with the play’s ending. He didn’t think Higgins and Eliza should wind up together. As with the original Greek myth of Pygmalion, once the protagonist “brings his statue to life,” she becomes blissfully emancipated and can no longer stay with her “creator.” The play’s finale was first modified for the 1938 screen version, starring Leslie Howard and Wendy Hiller, which is more in line with the way My Fair Lady ends. While the play has Eliza leaving Henry to marry Freddy, the film ends with Eliza and Henry together, much to Shaw’s dismay and outward protest at the time. So the irony is that Shaw won an Oscar for his screen adaptation of Pygmalion, even with an ending that went against his wishes.

Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins.

All struggles and historical intrigues aside, what ends up on the screen as My Fair Lady is sublime. It’s one of the most popular and best-loved movie musicals ever made. Deservedly so, but before I saw it on the big screen, I was introduced to this movie on television. I saw it multiple times, growing up, and it feels like Audrey Hepburn’s movie when I watch it in my living room. Her beautiful face, charisma, and shear star power shine through. However, the experience is entirely different with an audience in a movie theatre. My Fair Lady becomes, without question, Rex Harrison’s film. His pompous lines of dialogue and perfectly timed delivery induce many laughs, and Higgins’s audacity and brazen piggishness are even more evident with the immediate vocal feedback from a crowded movie house. It’s little wonder Harrison won Best Actor for his work. Comedic performances are rarely honored in leading roles, and I’m glad his is among them. My Fair Lady won eight Academy Awards, and its chief competition that year was another musical: Mary Poppins, which took home five. As far as Oscars go, the 1960s were a golden age for recognizing musicals.

My Fair Lady