> I've been in My Fair Lady twice now, and while it certainly has fun parts, I definitely would not call it one of the best. The whole ending kinda ruins it for me, for one thing- she went back to Higgins? What? After all that talk about being independent and not needing him, and we don't even get to see some character transformation or crisis that *makes* her go back?

There's a lot going on between the lines here. I've suspect all that talk of independence and not needing him was an expression of insecurity, not a genuine resentment that Higgins was giving her her chance in society. But eventually she figures out, as anybody who overcomes personal insecurities does, that just because she *can* go it alone doesn't mean she has to spite herself just to prove it. And she figures out she doesn't have to spite him, either, just to get even. Yes, he's not nice to her, but so what? The fact of their relationship is that she's better off with him, and he's better off with her. It just takes till the very end of the play for them each to realize it and admit it to themselves.

Meanwhile, Higgins, in that absolutely wonderful love song that never uses the word "love" in it, figures out that there's something, an element of humanity, this woman has brought out in him that's thrown him for a loop. He can't quite figure out what it is, but the change in him has been put into motion. I love how the last line shows how he's not just undergone a complete and totally unrealistic reversal of his character -- but all the same, I think it's pretty clear he's discovered enough about himself and her that he's not going to be treating her like a guttersnipe anymore.

I see the lack of an artificial epiphany on the part of either character is a strength, not a weakness. In real life, deep-rooted changes like this just don't happen overnight. They're gradual, and they nearly always grow out of relationships we have with other people that affect us in unique ways.

Certainly "My Fair Lady" tells the story of a unique relationship, one I think is unusually insightful about human nature, and confident enough to throw off the conventions of drama to express those insights.

But none of that is even what I was talking about when I said it was so well written. I just meant the words and lyrics demonstrate a command of the English language, an elegance in turns of phrase, practically unseen this side of Gilbert and Sullivan. The fact that the play is all *about* language just makes it all the more appealing to me.

On the other hand, I totally agree with the thing about Marlon Brando and Richard Gere. I think most of the civilized world falls somewhere between them on the scale.