Royalty, forbidden romance, and the charm and romance of Rome all rolled up in a film that is funny and tender and spectacularly acted Audrey Hepburn – what more could one possibly ask for? Roman Holiday is a light-hearted, gem of a romantic comedy. The story follows a stifled and somewhat bored princess who escapes her gilded cage for a care-free day in Rome. She is guided in her adventures by Joe Bradely (Gregory Peck), a scheming newspaper reporter looking for the scoop of a lifetime, and his photographer friend, Irving.

The film is first and foremost simply a delight to watch. The chemistry between Princess Ann and Joe sparkles. The wild plot certainly stretches credulity, but in the light of an excellent script and marvellous acting it doesn’t much matter. It is also a gorgeous portrayal of Rome, filming all the major attractions from the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain, to the Colosseum and the Vatican, ending with Joe and Ann’s final adventure on the river near San Domiano’s.

Because of its rich portrayals of the characters and their development, the film reaches beyond the level of mere entertainment to achieve something more enduring. It is a classic movie for good reason. While the characters are charmingly individual and unique, they nevertheless experience something that is common to the human condition, with which we can identify. This is a coming-of-age film. The relationship between Princess Ann and Joe gives them an insight into the meaning of their lives from which they can never come back.

The relationship between Joe and Princess Ann anchors the movie and the fact that it is complicated by each of them pretending not to be what they are makes it more compelling (and sets up the wonderful final scene of the movie). Joe and the princess both hide their true identities. The audience knows that Joe is a suave reporter out to get the scoop of a lifetime. The sheltered and naive Princess Ann, however, doesn’t question Joe’s sincerity for a moment, so it is a one-sided deception.

Their play-acting with each other is poignantly highlighted at the end of the day (after the brawl on the barge) as they talk of a domestic future together that they both know can never be. It is an intimate scene in Joe’s apartment. Princess Ann is dressed in Joe’s bathrobe after showering, and she prepares coffee or tea for them. They are both downcast, however, because they know the end of their time together is near. The princess says that at midnight, she’ll turn into a pumpkin and ride away. The fairy tale will be over.

While the film naturally focuses primarily on the princess and the change in her character (which we will get to in a moment), it is clear that like the princess, Joe also has a profound experience. We are introduced to Joe in a late-night poker game with his buddies. He is a brash, irresponsible and somewhat arrogant reporter. We see him come in late to work and miss his assignment for the morning. His sole ambition in first meeting Princess Ann is to advance his career. In short, he shows a rather juvenile immaturity.

By the end of the movie, he has learned that there are things more important than selfish aspirations. He sacrifices a great deal of money and professional opportunity. Not only that, but he must face the scorn of his editor, with whom he had a wager about the story. Joe realizes that publishing the story would render his relationship with Princess Ann insincere, and he cannot trample the memory of their time together. Additionally, even a gently written and positive article would be sure to generate an enormous scandal surrounding the princess, and because he cares for her, he cannot bring himself to cause her shame and pain. In short, he learns to place the well-being of another person above his own.

At the start of the movie, the princess comfortable, if bored, in the highest of social circles, and maintains a properly demure appearance. In her private rooms at night, however, she is revealed to be rather childish. A dutches assists her, serving as secretary, lady in waiting and nurse. She brings the princess a nightly snack of milk and crackers (like one would bring to a child) and treats her with a gentle but unmistakable condescension. The pressure of the incessant balls, official events and press releases is too much for this immature girl, and she breaks down in a hysterical tantrum.

Her return to the palace after her day in Rome reveals her to be a dramatically different person. She has grown into her authority and doesn’t hesitate to use it. She feels no need to explain or justify herself – as a cowed child would – saying merely, “The princess was indisposed.” She has gained a dignity that refuses to be condescended to (no milk and crackers).

She reveals the source of this new self-possession when she responds to the dutches’ mention of her duty. With an astonishing emotion in her voice, she cuts off the dutches, “Please do not use that word. Were I not entirely aware of my duty to my family and to my country, I would not have come back tonight… or indeed ever again!” She has sacrificed her fairytale of a normal life in domestic bliss, free from the busy schedules of official events, and from that sacrifice, she has gained a knowledge of herself and an understanding of her duty which had eluded her until now.

Princess Ann never expected to see Joe or Irving again, and her astonishment upon seeing them at the press release and learning that they were reporters is wonderfully acted. This is the first time they encounter each other without pretending to be something they aren’t. The double meaning in this last scene is rich:

Reporter: And what, in the opinion of Your Highness, is the outlook for friendship among nations?
Princess Ann: I have every faith in it… as I have faith in relations between people.

Ann learns for the first time that Joe is a reporter and realizes that her public image is at Joe’s mercy. Worse than that, however, is the personal humiliation of realizing that her dreams which she had sacrificed at such great cost just one night ago were in vain. She appeals to Joe, telling him that she has believes their relationship was authentic. She doesn’t know yet whether Joe was aware of her identity the entire time (though she might suspect it), so she also wants to reassure him that her feelings for him were sincere. Joe’s reply unequivocally reassures her that his feelings for her were just as sincere as hers were:

Joe Bradley: May I say, speaking for my own… press service: we believe Your Highness’s faith will not be unjustified.
Princess Ann: I am so glad to hear you say it.

It is also here that the princess demonstrates her ability to integrate her new self possession with her official duties. The sincerity of her relationship with Joe has just been confirmed, to her great relief. The next question is which city she enjoyed the most. She is prompted to give a safe, politically savvy answer, but changes course in the middle of her response:

Each, in its own way, was unforgettable. It would be difficult to – Rome! By all means, Rome. I will cherish my visit here in memory as long as I live.

So while she will continue to carry out her duties, she will now do so in her own way. In addition to the obvious meaning this response has for Joe, she also shows a strength of conviction to speak her mind publicly. Granted, it is a rather trivial matter on the stage of international politics, but on a personal level, it is no small thing to speak contrary to the prompting of her aids. It is one thing to act according to your heart in private, but quite another to do so in public. But she again reveals that inner strength and dignity she displayed the previous night, but this time it is revealed before the media of the entire world.

The princess receives one last surprise as Irving (along with the rest of the photographers in the press) takes her picture, first with a normal camera, and then with his cigarette lighter camera. It is only then that the princess fully realizes that they had been planning a story all along. Rather than ending up in the paper, however, the Irving’s pictures are instead given to her as a memento of her day in Rome.

The two lovers parting ways forever at the end of this wonderful film gives it an immensely nostalgic feeling. We are invited to envision these two lives in the future, never intersecting again, yet forever changed by the experiences of this one day. This is the essence of a coming-of-age experience: it is some profound experience which somehow serves as an initiation to a new understanding of life, from which it is impossible to return. The film beautifully hints at the power of memory (symbolized by the photographs Irving gives to the princess), of past experiences to continually affect one’s life.