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The genius of CACTUS FLOWER begins with its titular duality, at once defining both the film’s prevailing allegory as well as epitomizing its prickly, earthy essence. Candor and comedy blend and complement one another in perfect harmony, affording the film a light-hearted feel while managing to retain ponderous depths. It escapes the traditional cagey feel of an adapted play, echoing the free-flowing fluidity it thematically champions.
The central foursome on which it focuses is composed of uniquely eccentric characters both young and old. Within their varied personalities rests a pretty fair assessment of quirky and recognizable tropes, yet not a single one feels lacking in depth. In two hours, it chronicles the shifting dynamics between self-conscious bachelor Julian (Matthau), his faithful dental assistant, Stephanie (Bergman), and his daffy younger lover, Toni (Hawn).
The fourth character, Igor, (Lenz) is promptly introduced in the film’s bombastic opening, where he rescues a distraught and histrionic Toni from attempted suicide. Upon waking, she’s confused and consequently annoyed — yet their back and forth banter has a playful air to it. He reveals himself to be her neighbor and an aspiring writer. A beam of bright recognition befalls Toni’s expression that quickly turns into one of soured tedium. He’s the noisy one keeping her up at night, and when she tells him so he counters by asking why she never asked him to quiet down. Further conversation leads Toni to reveal that it was Julian’s negligence that drove her to the brink of insanity, planting an inherent, protective disdain for the dentist within Igor.
Julian, meanwhile, has an abrupt change of heart upon learning of Toni’s suicide attempt, flattered by her morbid display of devotion, and decides he finally wants to marry her. There’s a slight issue, however: to avoid commitment, Julian has feigned the role of a married man. When he proposes to Toni, she expresses concern about his wife’s well-being. Julian unsuccessfully tries to brush it under the table, and in doing so entangles himself in an ever-growing web of messy pretense that grows to hyperbolic proportion. He cajoles Stephanie into posing as his wife in a desperate bid of showing credulity; she reluctantly accepts in spite of her own affections toward him. She, too, becomes enveloped by this web, yet indulges in her masochistic destruction nonetheless because of her prevailing love for Julian. Further issues arise when she finally meets with Toni, who senses Stephanie’s longing and begins to feel guilty about being a homewrecker.
The farce expands and envelopes them all, a looming mountain erected for the sole benefit of Julian’s vanity and ego. Igor becomes an increasingly apparent presence in Toni’s life, which in turn infuriates Julian. Within the walls of this malleable and improvisational fantasy, all four central players are forced to reckon with their identity and relationships. The real and pretend swirl in a nebulous haze and space of reinvention. This newfound freedom to self-excavate begets a spiritual awakening for Stephanie. Liberated from her stoicism, she cautiously submerges herself in the city’s night culture and rekindles her lost youth. She is a budding cactus flower: vibrant, feminine, and robust with life and laughter.
To watch Stephanie blossom is to take pride and joy in queer identity, to flaunt and embrace its warmth with pride after having banished it for so long. We join in celebrating through vicarious exhilaration, marveling at her courage and authenticity. Stephanie’s self acceptance is ultimately what allows her to thrive in a future she’d long abandoned. It’s an overwhelmingly positive appraisal of queerness from start to finish, intimately nurturing every part of the journey with unprecedented understanding and care. She is a surrogate for the queer viewer, self-actualizing only when she has vanquished her fears to make a thunderous declaration both humanizing and heartwarming. CACTUS FLOWER is sympathetic but never patronizing, above all encouraging and challenging its viewers to broaden their worldviews. Endearing, memorable, and accessible, it’s one of the finest films to emerge from the burgeoning New Hollywood era, and a tremendous showcase for the versatile talents of Bergman, Matthau, Hawn, and Lenz.
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