An era of sexy subtlety

When I was 12 years old, I saw “Pillow Talk,” and not only did I laugh, but I felt as though I were crossing the threshold of puberty with all the necessary tools. That’s right. I was the exception to the rule. My friends were like Peyton Reed (“Rediscovering Rock and Doris for the First Time,” May 4), oohing and aahing over the latest piece of sci-fi, whereas I couldn’t find enough good sex comedies.

In college, I ran into dozens of Peyton Reeds, budding directors of film who looked down on “Pillow Talk” for being “too Hollywood,” while priding themselves at grasping the significance of “The 400 Blows” or anything by Kubrick. Of course, I thought it was the other way around. I thought it was movies like “The Major and the Minor,” or the granddaddy of them all, “It Happened One Night,” that were over the heads of these elitist connoisseurs.

I’m happy to find out that Reed has converted, although I’m still skeptical about whether he really gets it. When he calls these movies “chaste,” he might be missing the mark on a key element. In the scripts written by Stanley Shapiro -- “Pillow Talk,” for example -- the men are far from chaste and their intentions are anything but pure. I even have my doubts about whether or not the Doris Day character is a virgin. She strikes me more as someone who has had one or two flings, but just hasn’t seen fireworks yet.

No, the word Reed is looking for is “subtle.”

These movies are awfully clever about being subtle, and subtlety is an art form.

Arno Keks

El Monte