“Only Angels Have Wings” (1939)
Significantly overshadowed by some of his other films of the era, these days at least, “Only Angels Have Wings” might be one of Hawks’ very finest pictures. It’s a big, broad melodrama set among the men of a tiny, struggling mail air service in South America, who take risky flights over the Andes daily. As it opens, the men, including Geoff (Cary Grant) and his best friend Kid (Thomas Mitchell) are callously talking about the death of a colleague, but we soon discover it’s the only way they can cope with a job that means that every flight could be their last. Things are heightened with a group of new arrivals. There’s Bonnie (Jean Arthur), a singer who takes a shine to Geoff, and than there’s Bat (Richard Barthelmess), along with his wife Judy (a breakthrough role for Rita Hayworth). Bat’s loathed by the others after he bailed on a crashing plane, leaving Kid’s brother to die, but Geoff needs pilots, and hires him, putting him only on the most dangerous routes. It’s a heady dramatic mix, but Hawks gives the interplay between Arthur and Grant real spark and complexity, and when the hyper-masculine fronts of the actors slip — from Bat’s redemption, to Geoff breaking down at the death of his friend — it’s genuinely moving. The flight sequences still thrill 73 years on (it was one of the nominees for the very first Special Effects Oscars, although was beaten by “The Rains Came“) and the performances across the board are terrific. A lost classic that more than deserves to have its reputation boosted, “Only Angels Have Wings” is well worth seeking out.
“His Girl Friday” (1940)
Much attention has (rightfully) been paid to the whiplash-inducing dialogue and the fizzy chemistry between leads Cary Grant andRosalind Russell in Hawks’ version of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s oft-adapted stage play “The Front Page” (which had already been made once before, and would be remade by Billy Wilder in 1974, and bastardized in 1988’s “Switching Channels“). Breezing past the page-a-minute average of most screenplays, the adaptation by Charles Lederer, follows editor Walter Burns (Grant), who hopes to stop ex-wife and star reporter Hildy Johnson (Russell) from leaving town to get remarried by getting her to cover the story of an upcoming execution. Hawks’ film got an injection of energy from switching the two main characters from a pair of male journalists to feuding exes played by Grant and Russell, a pairing that matches Grant’s work with both Hepburns and Irene Dunne for sheer fire. The romance is as fast-paced as the dialogue, but viewers shouldn’t overlook the contributions of the Greek chorus of journalists, including Porter Hall, Cliff Edwards and Roscoe Karns, who add character and a bit of authenticity (there’s also great support by Helen Mack, as the girlfriend of the soon-to-be-executed man). But it is the Grant & Russell show, and the gags fly so fast between them that you couldn’t possibly hope to catch them all the first time around. That, and the fact that its satire of the journalism trade remains entirely bang-on today, explains why it’s a comedy that’s only grown in stature over the years.
