There are several reasons His Girl Friday is so brilliant – so much funnier than any other version of the Ben Hecht / Charles MacArthur stage comedy "The Front Page" – and has gone down in history as the smartest, funniest, fastest movie comedy of the forties.
The story and plot are classic. By the climax, an accused criminal is hiding in a desk in the courthouse press room to avoid a hasty hanging, with a retiring reporter and her boss helping him. But this version offers so much more.
There's Cary Grant. In any other version of The Front Page – like the previous one with Adolph Menjou – before long you're filling with contempt for scheming, unscrupulous, self-centered news publisher Walter Burns. But when Cary Grant plays Burns doing those same things, we cheer him and love him for it. The gender change for Hildy was key: it works so much better that Burns' unstated goal is to get back with his sharp-tongued, perfectly matched ex-wife - not just to scam his paper's best reporter into staying on. Grant lets us in on every motivation and joke - he practically winks at the camera when he cracks wise at Hildy's boyfriend Ralph Bellamy's expense, with zingers only his dear ex-wife will get.
How could we like someone who pays a thug to rough up an old lady? Someone who flatters and even hires a rival paper's reporter, just to get control of his desk – a minute later giving the order to "kick him down the stairs" when he reports for work? No other actor could get away with any of this, not remotely. In the last line of the movie there's Hildy, in love again and struggling to balance a suitcase over her head as they rush down the stairs. As Grant helpfully asks without breaking stride, "Why don't you carry that in your hand?" we forgive him one more time in exchange for that laugh.
Even more important, there's Rosalind Russell – not the character she plays – the actress. Russell was so determined her Hildy must have as many great zingers as Grant's Walter Burns, she started quietly paying writers to add hilarious Hildy comebacks throughout every conversation. She delivers them without a breath or a pause, and – impossibly – without making the scene any longer. In other words, she interrupts and talks over Walter whenever she can and comes off as the sharpest wit in a story brimming with sarcastic reporters. When critics caught their breath, some credited director Howard Hawks with an innovation: uniquely naturalistic dialogue, with people talking over each other as they do in real life.
This movie is full of genius from its writers - the acclaimed Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur were news reporters in the corrupt Chicago they depict, while Charles Lederer was known for making dialogue spark. Don't miss it.
The story and plot are classic. By the climax, an accused criminal is hiding in a desk in the courthouse press room to avoid a hasty hanging, with a retiring reporter and her boss helping him. But this version offers so much more.
There's Cary Grant. In any other version of The Front Page – like the previous one with Adolph Menjou – before long you're filling with contempt for scheming, unscrupulous, self-centered news publisher Walter Burns. But when Cary Grant plays Burns doing those same things, we cheer him and love him for it. The gender change for Hildy was key: it works so much better that Burns' unstated goal is to get back with his sharp-tongued, perfectly matched ex-wife - not just to scam his paper's best reporter into staying on. Grant lets us in on every motivation and joke - he practically winks at the camera when he cracks wise at Hildy's boyfriend Ralph Bellamy's expense, with zingers only his dear ex-wife will get.
How could we like someone who pays a thug to rough up an old lady? Someone who flatters and even hires a rival paper's reporter, just to get control of his desk – a minute later giving the order to "kick him down the stairs" when he reports for work? No other actor could get away with any of this, not remotely. In the last line of the movie there's Hildy, in love again and struggling to balance a suitcase over her head as they rush down the stairs. As Grant helpfully asks without breaking stride, "Why don't you carry that in your hand?" we forgive him one more time in exchange for that laugh.
Even more important, there's Rosalind Russell – not the character she plays – the actress. Russell was so determined her Hildy must have as many great zingers as Grant's Walter Burns, she started quietly paying writers to add hilarious Hildy comebacks throughout every conversation. She delivers them without a breath or a pause, and – impossibly – without making the scene any longer. In other words, she interrupts and talks over Walter whenever she can and comes off as the sharpest wit in a story brimming with sarcastic reporters. When critics caught their breath, some credited director Howard Hawks with an innovation: uniquely naturalistic dialogue, with people talking over each other as they do in real life.
This movie is full of genius from its writers - the acclaimed Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur were news reporters in the corrupt Chicago they depict, while Charles Lederer was known for making dialogue spark. Don't miss it.
Tell Your Friends