The Graduate

The Graduate is smart. Ambiguous. Existential. For the film’s duration, we are trapped, essentially, in Benjamin’s understanding of Elaine and Mrs. Robinson. It is a shame, although I understand the importance, that we are unable to explore Mrs. Robinson’s psyche further. Arguably, she is the most vulnerable, psychologically intriguing person amongst the lineup of characters, and still, we only experience her as Benjamin does: his older lover, Mr. Robinson’s wife, Elaine’s mother, etc. She is never given a name. An identity. It’s tragic but undeniably significant. Actually, Benjamin knows remarkably little about either woman but is quick to reduce them both to a weak, misguided archetype — one representing a stagnant, suburban life and the other representing what he imagines to be a idyllic, decidedly-his future. At The Graduate’s end, after Benjamin and Elaine flee the church and her marriage to another man, there is a novel, euphoric rush of triumph, and they leap onto the bus laughing like children, free of constraints and expectations. Suddenly, there is a potent, unbearable question hanging there: Now what? It’s brutal. It’s maddeningly brilliant.