An oval silver serving plate, placed on a patterned tablecloth, serves as the backdrop for the credit sequence of The Catered Affair. The names of those involved in the film are superimposed, one after the other, over this festive object. Yet for each brief moment of transition between these names we see only the plate. Over and again, our gaze is thus drawn to the spot at the center of the ornate decorations engraved over most of its surface. The lighting is such that while the edges of the plate are brightly lit, this unadorned centre appears like a vortex. Its blurred oval shape, in which dark and light are indiscernibly enmeshed, serves as a visual counterpoint to the clear lines of the engraved pattern that surrounds it. If the credits momentarily screen out this uncanny blob at the center of the silver plate, it, in turn, persistently returns to our field of vision as well. Before the drama has even set it, we are led to expect that something will trouble the spirit of festivity which is being announced with this serving dish.

MARRIAGE AND ITS DISCONTENT

Something is, indeed, haunting the film's heroine Aggie Hurley (Bette Davis), who wishes to give her daughter a lavish wedding reception. Jane (DebbieReynolds) and her bridegroom Ralph (Rod Taylor) had planned for a quiet early morning ceremony in church with only the immediate family present. They are keen to get an early start on their drive to California, where they intend to spend their honeymoon. Aggie, however, persists in wanting for her “this one fine thing with all the trimmings.” On the evening of the day on which she has found out about her daughter's plans, she comes to Jane's room to apologize for a quarrel they had earlier on in the kitchen. Because Jane, annoyed at the fuss her mother is making, is lying on her bed with her back turned toward her, Aggie sits down beside her. To plead her case, she makes a confession that draws into focus the murky kernel at the heart of her own marriage. She recalls how she herself never had a proper wedding, only a rushed affair on a Saturday morning, in a worn-out cotton dress, “not fit to be seen on the street with, let alone be married in.”