Tag Archives: Howard Hawks

Like some of my past visits to South Carolina’s Mensa gathering, when I was chilling in the hotel room I spent some of the time watching random films on Turner Classic Movies. It’s the one cable service I truly miss from giving up cable. As usual, I didn’t get to watch all of anything (I’d anticipated otherwise) and not as much as two years ago.

GOODBYE MR. CHIPS (1969) is based on the novel by James Hilton (probably better remembered for Lost Horizon) following the life of a boys’ school teacher from his rookie days through becoming an aging icon. For whatever reason, this one was made as a musical, whether to distinguish it from the Robert Donat 1939 version or because (as discussed in the excellent book Pictures at a Revolution) the success of Mary Poppins and Sound of Music had convinced the studios that big-budget musicals were fashionable again. That conviction led to a lot of musical flops of which this is one: Peter O’Toole is good as the teacher, pop singer Petula Clarke is much less effective as the stage star who becomes his wife and the songs, at least those I caught, are forgettable. “Take it back and buy something appropriate to a schoolteacher’s salary.”

THE SCARLET COAT (1955) stars Cornell Wilde as a Revolutionary War spy mingling with loyalists in the hopes of identifying a suspected traitor in the American ranks only to discover to his dismay it’s the least likely suspect imaginable (“General Arnold’s name is second only to Washington’s!”). With George Sanders as a sneering spymaster and Anne Francis as a cynical loyalist. “I won’t join your company of gallant fools.”

Howard Hawks’ RED LINE 7000 (1965) is nowhere near as cool as that poster makes it look. In fact it’s not cool at all. In fact, as Films of Howard Hawks says, it’s Hawks’ worst film.

The story concerns the various drivers working for a stock car team — a young James Caan is the biggest name — the women who want them and the problems that keep getting in the way of true love (plus there’s some racing). One woman is convinced her love is a jinx killing the drivers who fall for her. An ambitious stock car driver finds romance with the owner’s sister but he wants more of everything, including women. A French flirt with too many men in her past worries that she’s never known love. Caan falls for said flirt but he wants to marry a good girl and doesn’t think she qualifies.

This is all serviceable material but the movie just goes through the motions. As Donald Willis puts it in Films, it feels like they randomly match up boys, girls and problems, then reshuffle them to make it all come out right; the owner’s sister finds true love but I don’t remember her HEA boyfriend ever talking to her. The characters are forgettable, the acting is meh — you wouldn’t think Caan had a big career ahead of him — and the movie throws in a musical number “Wildcat Jones” which has no need to be there, or anywhere else. “I read in a book that if love makes sense, it isn’t love.”

All rights to images remain with current holders.

I’m close to finishing up my long (re)watch of Howard Hawks, though it’ll be a couple more months at least.

Donald C. Willis of Films of Howard Hawks unaccountably loathes GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES (1953) — well not unaccountable, he loathes Marilyn Monroe for what he considers her “aggressive, brainless, painless sexuality” (he expressed similar disdain over her in Monkey Business). I think she and Jane Russell are both terrific.

The film adapts a Broadway musical based on Anita Loos’ same-name book, with Monroe as the book’s central character, Lorelei Lee (I’ve read the character is sharper in the novel). Lorelei’s a mercenary beauty out to marry amiable, slightly dim and very wealthy Gus (Tommy Noonan); she’s deeply troubled that her BFF Dorothy (Russell) is perfectly happy with guys who are good-looking and fun, regardless of wealth. Doesn’t Dorothy realize it’s just as easy to fall for a rich man as a poor one? It’s Lorelei’s duty to protect her friend from her own worst instincts.

The plot concerns the duo going to France as showgirls — Gus’s father doesn’t want Lorelei marrying him and she hopes blowing Gus off for a while will stiffen his spine. Complications include a gumshoe (Elliott Reed) sent to catch Lorelei cheating but finding Dorothy so gosh-darn sexy, and conniving lecher “Piggy” (Charles Coburn). The end results rely almost entirely on the charm of the two female leads but that more than enough, especially when Monroe cuts loose in “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” (the song Madonna pays homage to in “Material Girl”), showing why Hollywood could never clone her successfully. However Dorothy buying time for her friend by impersonating her at the climax isn’t quite charming enough. Not a classic, but enjoyable “I think you’re the only girl in the world who can stand on stage with a spotlight in her eyes and see a diamond inside a man’s pocket.”

I’ve read one of the reasons Hawks was dismissed for years as a talented lightweight was that he never confined himself to one genre the way Alfred Hitchcock was “the Master of Suspense” or John Ford was associated with Westerns. As witness he followed the above picture with LAND OF THE PHARAOHS (1955), a historical epic that, as Willis puts it, halfway works “until it runs headlong into Joan Collins.”

The pharaoh Khufu (Jack Hawkins) is rapacious in his lust for gold and jewels even by Egyptian imperial standards. Looking ahead, he’s worried he won’t be able to take it with him — haven’t countless cleverly designed burial chambers been looted by tomb robbers? The solution: offer the brilliant architect Vashtar (James Robertson Justice) the chance to liberate his captive people in return for designing the unrobbable pyramid. Vashtar himself will have to die, knowing the secret, but his people will be free, so he agrees.

This is good looking in the way many epics were, but not terribly interesting otherwise (and it’s entirely performed by white actors in brownface). It falls apart completely when Collins as the scheming queen Nellifer enters the picture. Khufu’s second wife, she wants power and she really wants those pretty things that are going to be wasted being stuck in a pyramid. Hawkins isn’t right for the role but still, he is the lord of Egypt and that gives his actions a certain grandeur. Nellifer’s an uninspired and not particularly memorable palace intriguer. Collins could have played the role well maybe 10 or 15 years later but at this point she’s in her early 20s and not yet good enough. “In the presence of Pharaoh, you kneel.”

All rights to images remain with current holders

As 1950s SF expert Bill Warren says, MONKEY BUSINESS (1952) is a funny film to see once, but despite the charm of Cary Grant, Charles Coburn, Marilyn Monroe and Ginger Rogers, it doesn’t hold up to repeated viewings.

In the last of his four films for director Howard Hawks, Grant does his usual amazing job as a chemist working on a rejuvenation formula. One of the chimps the lab uses as guinea pigs gets out, mixes up some chemicals and bingo, success! Grant finds he no longer needs glasses and can perform somersaults — though as Warren points out, nothing else changes physically. Mentally, though, he regresses to around 19, which makes hitting on boss Coburn’s secretary (Monroe — and Coburn telling her “Find someone to type this.” is still a funny line) feel perfectly normal. Never mind what his spouse (Rogers) will think.

That’s the premise of the film: people drink the formula (the chimp dumped it in the water cooler) and start acting like a teenager or, if they get too much, a little kid (or more accurately the movie cliche version of both). Unsurprisingly, Grant and Rogers are great in the leads (Coburn and Monroe are good, but they have less to do) but their antics wear thin — and why does Coburn conclude the research is a success? It’s hard to imagine anyone paying to stay physically the same and de-age themselves mentally (binge-drinking at the nearest bar would probably have similar results). It’s not as bad as Films of Howard Hawks says (the author loathes the movie) but it ain’t great. Though I did enjoy it first viewing.

A minor point is that this may have some contemporary-for-1952 stuff I’m not picking up on, like when Grant gets a new suit and hairstyle; they don’t look that different to me but I’m assuming they’d look Young and Hip to the original audience. “Every now and then you feel compelled to sit and stare at a piece of paper hoping it will speak to you.”

CAT VIDEO FEST 2025 is the follow-up to the collection of cat videos TYG and I saw last year, the high point being a mangy (literally) and flea-bitten cat ending up adopted, sleek and comfortable, though most of the videos are more light-hearted. Nothing that isn’t available in infinite quantities on the Internet, but still fun.

While it’s not from The Asylum, I assume THE RISE OF THE BLACK BAT (2012) is the same kind of mockbuster, in this case mockbusting 2012’s The Dark Knight Rises. The Black Bat was a pulp hero who preceded Batman and quite possibly influenced him, though his skill-set — blinded, he acquires the ability to see in the dark — means he could also have inspired DC’s Dr. Mid-Nite.

This film version — I’m guessing the original is public domain — has a mobster blind crusading DA Anthony Quinn (which as the name of a well-known actor throws me in a way it wouldn’t have in the 1930s) who undergoes an operation to save his eyes; he remains blind in daytime but becomes perfectly sighted in pitch darkness, then adopts the Black Bat identity to strike fear into the hearts of the criminals he wars upon (and guns down — like a lot of pulp heroes, he has no qualms about killing). Unlike Monkey Business, this doesn’t even watch well the first time — it’s low budget with minimal acting talent and pads the story with several minutes of bikini-clad women posing for a beauty contest. “It’s bizarre to imagine that a man dressed in a black mask who runs around in the dark carrying a gun would be up to anything but no good.”

All rights to images remain with current holders.

Introducing the anthology segments in O. HENRY’S FULL HOUSE (1952), John Steinbeck assures us that O. Henry is a great American author, one of the bedrocks of our country’s literature. Which is ironic because watching, I realized how much Henry is known — for Gift of the Magi if nothing else — rather than read (I might have read The Cop and the Anthem but that’s it). And these stories didn’t make me feel I was missing anything.

It’s not that the stories are bad, they’re just not particularly memorable, even with a solid cast performing them. Charles Laughton as a tramp hoping to get thrown in jail for Christmas. Richard Widmark as a tough guy cashing in on an old debt. A young, in love couple sacrificing their most precious possessions to buy each other a Christmas gift (but watching now, I realize the ending is unbalanced — her hair will grow back, he may never recover his fine ancestral watch). Kidnappers Fred Allen and Oscar Levant paying the parents to take back the nightmare child they kidnap in Ransom of Red Chief. There’s something about them that screaams “old fashioned” and not in a nostalgic, charming way.

Howard Hawks directs the Red Chief segment competently but I wouldn’t have suffered if this wasn’t available online.

TYG is a big fan of PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT (1994) and I like it too, so we went to rewatch it at the Carolina Theater (first big-screen viewing for both of us). A good, quirky Aussie comedy as drag queen Hugo Weaving recruits aging transwoman Terence Stamp and flamboyant queer Guy Pearce to come along on a road trip to Alice Springs to meet his ex-wife and their son. A solid character study with Stamp a standout as a world-weary soul (though TYG’s favorite was the Pearce role). “Assumption is the mother of all fuckups.”

All rights to images remain with current holders.

Depending which theory you go with, THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD (1951) was either Howard Hawks’ only SF film or directed by a protege, Christian Nyby, who gets official credit. After rewatching, I’m favoring Hawks directing — it feels like his work — and letting his buddy have the credit.

It’s an excellent and entertaining film: an alien invasion movie, a horror film, a story of tough guys cut off from the world, fighting to survive and under pressure — because if they fall, so falls the world.

There’s constant banter and crackling dialog (I disagree with Nevala-Lee that the film is mostly “a series of images“), and a woman, Nicky (Margaret Sheridan) who can hold her own with the men. She isn’t the screamer of the poster though she doesn’t get much to do in the struggle. However she’s right there on the front lines, rather than being put away somewhere safe.

USAF Captain Hendry (Kenneth Tobey) and his crew fly up from Anchorage to help out Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) whose science team have discovered a flying saucer that recently crashed in the Arctic ice. Attempting to remove the ship from the ice, they destroy it. Then they discover the pilot, trapped in ice, take him to Carrington’s lab … and the ice melts. The Thing (James Arness) is apparently here to colonize Earth and sees the humans as obstacles; he’s as ruthless with us as we might be confronted by intelligent, hostile cabbages.

Hawks said in a later interview that he liked his professional men to be professionals. Here, it’s Hendry, Nicky and Hendry’s team who see the threat clearly and work to deal with it. Carrington, the genius visionary, naively assumes the Thing’s advanced technology mean it’s wiser, nobler, a potential friend; the military high command likewise wants the Thing unharmed. It’s the guys on the front line who recognize that it has to be destroyed (a common question in 1950s film is whether you trust the generals or the GIs). In any case it’s an excellent film. “Intelligence in plants is an old story, Mr. Scott — older than the animal arrogance that precludes thinking about it.”

NUTS (1987) stars Barbra Streisand as Claudia a high-priced call girl (“$400 gets you laid, a hand job costs $300, a blow job is $500, wearing my panties is another $100.”) who recently slashed client Lesley Nielsen’s throat when he decided he wanted more for the money. Her mom and stepdad (Maureen Stapleton, Karl Malden) want the judge (James Whitmore) to commit her — no chance of jail time — and psychiatrist Eli Wallach recommends it. Claudia, however, would sooner risk prison than be treated as a madwoman; while her attorney (Richard Dreyfuss) finds her frustrating as hell to deal with, he reluctantly followers her requested course of action.

This is very good, with a spectacular performance by Streisand, excellent direction by Martin Ritt and solid performances all the way around. Like Red Kimona, I was inspired to catch this by the book Marked Women. “Sometimes people love you so much, love is like a goddamn gun they fire right into your head.”

Returning to Howard Hawks, THE BIG SKY (1952), as critic Donald C. Willis says, plays like it was assembled from leftovers from Red River. For surrogate father and son John Wayne and Montgomery Clift, we have frontiersman Kirk Douglas and young, reckless Dewey Martin; Instead of old coot Walter Brennan we have Arthur Honeycutt; for the cattle drive we have a trading trip up the Missouri to Blackfoot territory; instead of settler Joanne Dru we have Native American princess Elizabeth Threatt. The result is perfectly watchable but completely unremarkable. “She figures you’re even — you saved her life and she hasn’t killed you yet.”

All rights to images remain with current holders.

I WAS A MALE WAR BRIDE (1949) stars Cary Grant and Ann Sheridan as military officers in post-war France. Despite friction from a past mission — he got handsy, she objected — they have to travel together on a new assignment, despite finding each other the most obnoxious, the most irritating person they’ve ever met — that’s right, you know where this is going.

You can guess at least some of what comes next from the title (another example of Snakes on a Plane literalness). Sheridan and Grant marry but the military bureaucracy assumes overseas spouses will be women; Grant can’t sleep in the wives’ dorm, can’t sleep in the officers’ dorm (he’s out of the Army by this point) and Sheridan’s quarters are women only (getting their wedding night takes a lot of work).

As The Films of Howard Hawks says, this works well for one reason: Cary Grant. Not that Sheridan or the script or the directing are bad but Grant is utterly amazing, spectacularly funny even when all he’s doing is giving a deadpan put-upon look as in the image here. It’s not his best movie or even his best Howard Hawks movie (that would be Bringing Up Baby, which has some similarity to Male War Bride in its romantic rhythms) but it might be his funniest performance. “I think it’s only fair to warn you that Jack the Ripper’s up the alley before you go into it.”

A DOLL’S HOUSE (1973) is a filmed adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s play, starring Jane Fonda as a flibbertigibbet wife, David Warner as her banker husband, Edward Fox as a disgruntled clerk, Delphine Seyrig as Fonda’s BFF/Fox’s ex and Trevor Howard as a dying doctor. Despite the cast and the play’s classic status this film didn’t work for me.

A big part of the problem is that it’s one of those filmed stage plays where dialogue that would have worked fine on stage sounds tinny and forced. Another is that Fonda’s Nora is too shallow and selfish to feel much sympathy for her plight (which involves forging her dead father’s signature on a loan as a woman in the 1890s couldn’t take one out by herself), nor does her feminist awakening at the end work for me. I don’t know if the problem is Fonda, the production or that the play, classic though it is, doesn’t work for me. “Nearly all young criminals are the children of feckless mothers.”

All rights to images remain with current holders.