Review #1,462: 'Bringing Up Baby' (1938)

Considering Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby is now regarded as one of the finest screwball comedies of all time, it's shocking to learn that it was hailed as a flop upon its release in 1938, and received a few unfairly scathing reviews. Romantic comedies are as popular now as they ever have been, and watching Bringing Up Baby 71 years after it was made almost feels as though it could have been released last week, only in black and white and starring two of the finest actors of their, or any other, generation. Its formula and structure is now a blueprint for any filmmakers hoping to make a successful rom-com, featuring all the ingredients now so closely associated with the genre, like the meet-cute, the obstacle standing in the way of happiness, and the quirk that sets the love interest apart from everybody else. The quirk here is a pet leopard named Baby, who - despite how ridiculous it all sounds - is the glue that holds the film together.

For the past four years, goofy palaeontologist David Huxley (Cary Grant) has been searching for the final fossilised piece to finish the Brontosaurus display he has been assembling for the museum. Much to his joy, the 'intercostal clavicle' has been located and will arrive within days, but David doesn't have time to celebrate. On top of his impending marriage to the sullen Alice Swallow (Virginia Walker), there's also the matter of impressing the wealthy Elizabeth Random (May Robson) and her lawyer Alexander Peabody (George Irving), who are considering making a million-dollar donation to the museum. David's plans are interrupted when, on the day before his wedding, he meets motor-mouthed Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn) on a golf course when she accidentally plays his ball. From then on, Susan causes David to slip on an olive, tear his dinner jacket, and generally make his life a living hell. She takes a real shine to the mild-mannered and dashing scientist, and proceeds to manipulate him into whisking her and her brother's pet leopard off to a remote farm, where she steals his clothes and accidentally unleashes another leopard into the surrounding area.

It's a ridiculous premise that would look disastrous on paper, but the combined talents of Hawks, Hepburn, Grant and writers Dudley Nichols and Hagar Wilde not only make it work, but turn it into one of funniest films of its era. Similar to Hawks' 1940 masterpiece His Girl Friday, the script moves a mile a minute, cramming in more one-liners and shrewd observations than your brain can keep up with. Of course, the script only works when the actors can bring the words to life, and there has perhaps been no finer pairing in the screwball genre than Hepburn and Grant. Grant, with his vaudeville background, is always brilliant when playing these sorts of characters, but Hepburn, who had little experience doing comedy in 1938, struts into the role with confidence and ends up walking away with the film. Watching them work their magic helped me understand why modern neo-screwball comedies don't work. The actors are simply of a different breed, hailing from a time when live shows were the ruling visual medium and learning the craft was entirely different. Hilarious and romantic in equal measures, Bringing Up Baby helped write the genre rule-book, lending real weight to the idea that they just don't make 'em like that anymore.


Directed by: Howard Hawks
Starring: Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, Charles Ruggles, Walter Catlett, Barry Fitzgerald, May Robson, George Irving
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,064: 'The Quiet Man' (1952)

It's a cliche to say, about a movie especially, that "they don't make 'em like that anymore." But in the case of The Quiet Man, a gentle comedy drama from John Ford, they really don't. If it was made today, this romantic tale set in the luscious green countryside of Ireland would no doubt star some square-jawed pretty-boy as the male lead, with the role of the leading lady going to some vacuous up-and-comer hoping to make the transition from TV into film before fading into utter obscurity. Back in 1952 they got two of cinema's Golden Age powerhouses, John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, who sizzle with chemistry, charisma and charm, combining to help create one of the finest films of its time.

Something of a departure for Ford and Wayne, who were most famous for delivering tough horse operas in the Old West, the film was only made by Republic Picture on the promise that Ford make a western for them first to make up for question mark looming over the box-office appeal of The Quiet Man. He obliged and made Rio Grande (1950), before setting off for Ireland to make the passion project he purchased the movie rights to back in the 1930's. He brought Wayne with him too, but he would kill no injuns and saddle no horses (although he does get to briefly ride one) here, but instead play Sean Thornton, the 'quiet man' of the title - a dashing, friendly American who retreats to his birthplace of Ireland carrying a dark secret on his shoulders.

Soon upon arriving, Sean is struck by the beauty of the temperamental Mary Kate Danaher (O'Hara), the sister of landowner Squire 'Red' Will Danaher (Victor McLagen). When Sean quickly purchases the cottage in which he was born, he finds himself immediately at odds with the loud-mouthed and brutish Will, who has had his eyes on the land for years. Sean and Mary Kate are soon in love, but Will stubbornly refuses to consent to the marriage. Local drunk and matchmaker Michaleen (Barry Fitzgerald), sympathising with the two lovers, hatches a plan with the other locals to manipulate Will into thinking the marriage is in his best interests, and they are soon wed. But when Will uncovers the plot and tries to sabotage the marriage, Sean must face the demons of his past and confront the bullying tyrant.

Winner of 2 Academy Awards and nominated for 5 more, The Quiet Man was a roaring success and is loved by many to this day, but was undoubtedly a massive gamble by Ford. People paid to see John Wayne punch bad guys and get the girl, but this was a film about a man who makes an active decision not to fight and, although he gets the girl early on, he struggles to keep a hold of her. Funnily enough, this is one of Wayne's best performances, a rare opportunity to see his warmer, gentler side, and his interaction with O'Hara, who is also terrific, is one of the movie's main strengths. The slow pace pays off at the end, climaxing with one of the best fist-fights in cinema. It's played mainly for laughs and no one draws blood, but the absurdity and the sheer length of it is a hoot. Perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.


Directed by: John Ford
Starring: John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara, Barry Fitzgerald, Victor McLaglen, Ward Bond
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #147: 'The Naked City' (1948)

A model, Jean Dexter, is found murdered in her apartment. In what is dubbed as the bathtub murder, an investigation is opened, lead by veteran New York Lieutenant, Dan Muldoon (Barry Fitzgerald). Frank Niles (Howard Duff) and Ruth Morrison (Dorothy Hart), are brought in to help with the investigation.They knew Dexter. As the lies, deceits and criminal activity are exposed through the people that occupied her life, a deep realisation that she too was incognito with the criminal underworld becomes apparent.

Shot on location in New York by Jules Dassin, this film noir adds something quite different to the average film of this genre. The usual laconic narration that is ordinarily spoken by the lead character, is, in The Naked City, spoken by the actual producer of this film. Mark Hellinger narrates the multitude of New York vignettes, and offers clues and speculation to the police procedural that follows the murder. The fact that also all the scenes were shot on location is quite an achievement for the time. This lends a certain documentary feel to the outcome. The cinematography is startling also because of this 'realism' (shot by William H. Daniels, for which he won an Academy Award).

The narrator offers insights into the everyday life of New Yorkers. He closes by stating that there are 4 million stories in New York; and this is one of them. This device was clearly lifted by Spike Lee in his 1999 film Summer of Sam. The influence of the film is also echoed in any film that was shot in New York this film most certainly is a document for that city that never sleeps. Much of the film is dialogue-heavy. But this need for exposition is essential in this kind of story. Perhaps not the greatest known (or even greatest) of the film noir cycle, but certainly one that broke ground in its ability to represent a certain reality within its frame.


Directed by: Jules Dassin
Starring: Barry Fitzgerald, Howard Duff, Dorothy Hart
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy