There are romantic age gaps, and then there's Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant in the sophisticated cloak-and-dagger screwball comedy Charade. She was 33, he was 59. It was a different time. The movie is a colorful, worldly hoot mainly because what the leads lack in credible romantic chemistry, they make up for with wit, charm, and bonhomie.
She’s a lovesick widow whose late husband hid a fortune. He's surprisingly athletic, for a graying gentleman thief. Uh-oh, here comes trouble!
Charade is a mildly naughty midcentury jaunt about stolen money, secret identities, and beautiful Paris, the city of lights. These were boozy, sexy, lighthearted years in Hollywood before the 1960s darkened. Stanley Donen directs with finesse, and Henry Mancini helps with a sharp, jazzy score.
Grant and Hepburn are their usual elegant, good-humored selves, supported by a young Walter Matthau playing it straight, and James Coburn as a sneering bad guy.
Love the film, but always wondered, during the shower scene, is Cary Grant still buzzed from the LSD.
It’s a great film that has been called the best Hitchcock film that Hitchcock never directed. Just to give you the feel of this movie.