untitled
HIS GIRL FRIDAY
Directed by: Howard Hawkes
Internet Movie
Database Entry for full details
GRADE: A (3.7/4)
1940.
I feel embarrassed that
I hadn't seen this film before, and now that I have I feel I must point out that it is essential,
requisite viewing for anyone with even a mild interest in film.
Rosalind Russell plays Hildy, a retiring newspaperwoman torn
between filing one last story for her editor/ex-husband Walter (Cary
Grant) and leaving town to begin a normal and quiet life with her new
fiancé Bruce (Ralph Bellamy). They speak to one
another faster than anyone ever has in film history (and hardly anyone
speaks one at a time), knocking out about two or three times the
average length screenplay in a mere ninety-two minutes.
Director Howard Hawkes, like the master Frank Capra, plays not only for
laughs but also for pathos: a scene in which a room of shiesty
newspapermen (is there any other kind?) are put in their place by a
young lady is quite affecting -- the camera hangs statically over a
group of men too ashamed to even lift up their heads. But
then, of course, someone enters the room and the hilarity begins all
over again. Vaguely, I was reminded of the "Man on the Flying
Trapeze" scene in It
Happened One Night in which a starving mother suddenly
collapses.
The film drags a bit in the middle when Grant is off-screen because the
banter just doesn’t coruscate the same way when
it’s not coming out of him or off of him; his bookending
appearances, however, more than make-up for it. Grant's
natural allure is a rare gift; he is perfectly suited to be a movie
star -- thank God the movies had come along by the time he was born or
his life may have been wasted.
It certainly has to be one of the sharpest screenplays ever written and
it makes all other movies, and in particular other screwball comedies,
seem to move in slow motion. It’s also notable for
its surprising self-reflexivity: when Walter is trying to describe
Bruce’s appearance to another character he says,
“he looks like that fellow from the movies….errr,
Ralph Bellamy.” (Yuk, yuk, yuk.) More interesting, however, is a
later line: while being threatened by the mayor, Walter declares,
“the last man who said that to me was Archie Leach, right
before I slit his throat.” Archibald Leach of
course (of course!)
was Cary Grant’s nom
de naissance and, while a certainly intentional and clever line,
is fascinating fodder for Dr. Freud. -- Henry Stewart
Post a
comment/reply on our Discussion Board
-------
© 2006
Send Us an Email
Cinepinion Home
The Cinepinion Archives
bravenet.com