If you’ve ever wondered what happens when "opposites attract" moves out of the honeymoon suite and into a five-flight walk-up with a hole in the skylight, look no further than Gene Saks’ 1967 gem, Barefoot in the Park. Based on the Neil Simon play, this film is a time capsule of 60s charm, New York neuroses, and the realization that marriage is basically just an endless series of negotiations over temperature and dignity.
The Setup: High Spirits and Higher Stairs
The film centers on Paul and Corie Bratter—played by Robert Redford and Jane Fonda at the absolute peak of their "golden couple" powers. Paul is a "stuffed shirt" lawyer who treats life like a deposition, while Corie is a free spirit who thinks logic is a buzzkill.
After a six-day honeymoon at the Plaza Hotel (where they presumably didn't have to climb a single stair), they move into their first apartment: a tiny, top-floor brownstone unit in Greenwich Village.
The Running Gag: The "five-flight" walk-up. By the time any character reaches the front door, they are gasping for air and questioning their life choices. It’s a physical comedy masterclass that never gets old, mostly because we’ve all felt that "sixth floor" burn in our souls.
The Conflict: The Straight-Laced vs. The Barefoot
The heart of the movie isn't just the physical comedy; it's the ideological war between Paul’s pragmatism and Corie’s passion. Corie wants Paul to be more "spontaneous"—which in her mind involves walking barefoot in Washington Square Park in freezing temperatures. Paul, reasonably, prefers shoes and a lack of pneumonia.
The tension peaks during a double date arranged by Corie, featuring her lonely, conservative mother (the brilliant Mildred Natwick) and their eccentric, bohemian neighbor, Victor Velasco (Charles Boyer). Victor lives in the attic, climbs through their window to avoid paying rent, and feeds them "Knichi"—a dish that looks like a science experiment and tastes like a dare.
Why It Works: Fonda and Redford
While the dialogue is classic Neil Simon—snappy, rhythmic, and deeply Jewish-New York in its soul—the movie lives or dies on the chemistry of its leads.
- Jane Fonda is a whirlwind of infectious energy. She manages to make Corie’s flightiness feel like a genuine philosophy rather than just an annoyance.
- Robert Redford proves he was a comedic heavyweight long before he was a brooding director. His deadpan reactions to the absurdity surrounding him are the perfect anchor for the film’s more manic moments.
Watching them argue is like watching a tennis match played with crystal glassware; it’s beautiful, fast-paced, and you’re constantly waiting for something to shatter. When they finally hit their breaking point—resulting in a drunken, hilarious rooftop standoff—the film finds its true heart. It’s a reminder that love isn't just about the "barefoot" moments; it’s about surviving the "shoes-on" responsibilities together.
The 1960s Aesthetic
Visually, the film is a feast for anyone who loves mid-century New York. From the sharp tailoring of Paul’s suits to the eclectic, "bohemian-chic" decor of the apartment (before they actually get furniture), it captures a very specific moment in urban history. It’s a world of rotary phones, heavy coats, and the belief that a bottle of Ouzo can solve any social awkwardness.
The Verdict
Barefoot in the Park remains one of the most watchable rom-coms of its era. It doesn't rely on grand gestures or "will-they-won't-they" tropes. Instead, it finds comedy in the mundane: the drafty windows, the overbearing mothers, and the terrifying realization that your spouse is a completely different person when they’re tired.
It’s funny, it’s frantic, and yes, it’ll make you want to go for a walk in the park—shoes optional, but highly recommended if it’s February.
