There were a lot of so-called women's pictures around this time, typically romantic dramas, and pretty much the only movies of that era with female protagonists. His Girl Friday is an oddity in that it began life as a Ben Hecht/Charles MacArthur play with a male lead. Somewhere in pre-production the decision was made to turn the hero of what was originally called The Front Page from Hildebrand to Hildegard. But this did not simply make it another women's picture.
You see, although the title now reflects the gender-swap and the lines have even been re-jiggled to make Walter Burns the hero's ex-husband as well as ex-boss, this is still very much the same story as before. It's as if the female Hildy was there in potentia all along, with the familiar, quarrelsome relationship between journalist and editor having been very much like antagonistic ex-lovers all along. It's significant because this makes her a strong, professional character, as opposed to the floppy, flimsy females that screenwriters usually came out with in this era.
The new Hildy is magnificently brought to life by Rosalind Russell. Russell is fluent in sarcasm, and the knowing, world-weary tone she brings to her lines is exquisite. She seems totally at ease amid the boys' club atmosphere of the newsroom, and more than able to carry the movie and match up to her exuberant co-star Cary Grant. Grant shows a touch of Ned Sparksism in his performance, and it is easy to see Burns as the sort of pompous grouch that Sparks would normally play. By and large though this is prime Cary, with plenty of ridiculous exclamations and indignant gestures, best of which is a dismissive flick of the hand as he tells everyone to "get out". There are plenty of fine supporting players too. Ralph Bellamy is perfect as Hildy's would-be husband Bruce, Bellamy being an intelligent man who is good at acting a buffoon.
The action is overseen by ace director Howard Hawks. Hawks is brilliant at handling smooth switches between the general and the specific. The movie begins with a lengthy tracking shot (or rather two shots, but the blend is disguised) going right-to-left, showing off the indistinct business and bustle of the newsroom, before coming to rest on a slightly more empty end. Then Rosalind Russell enters, and we follow her with another tracking shot left-to-right. It's a great way of introducing the character. This second tracking shot is ostensibly a reversal of the one before it, but the first one is a broad picture of a place and the second has its focus on one person. Throughout, Hawks encourages not only the oft-praised overlapping dialogue, but also punchy visual collages of tense and hasty movements. Whenever the gaggle of reporters are in the room there's always one chewing gum or shifting his balance. His Girl Friday begins at high speed and from then on barely pauses for breath.
Of course, not all the genuine women's pictures of the 30s and 40s were poorly-written, and in fact a lot of them I enjoy immensely. But seeing His Girl Friday, a woman's movie that became one almost by accident, is a breath of fresh air when one compares it to the stereotyped imagery that was actually pitched and presented to women. It also happens to be a fun, witty and nicely-made movie.
You see, although the title now reflects the gender-swap and the lines have even been re-jiggled to make Walter Burns the hero's ex-husband as well as ex-boss, this is still very much the same story as before. It's as if the female Hildy was there in potentia all along, with the familiar, quarrelsome relationship between journalist and editor having been very much like antagonistic ex-lovers all along. It's significant because this makes her a strong, professional character, as opposed to the floppy, flimsy females that screenwriters usually came out with in this era.
The new Hildy is magnificently brought to life by Rosalind Russell. Russell is fluent in sarcasm, and the knowing, world-weary tone she brings to her lines is exquisite. She seems totally at ease amid the boys' club atmosphere of the newsroom, and more than able to carry the movie and match up to her exuberant co-star Cary Grant. Grant shows a touch of Ned Sparksism in his performance, and it is easy to see Burns as the sort of pompous grouch that Sparks would normally play. By and large though this is prime Cary, with plenty of ridiculous exclamations and indignant gestures, best of which is a dismissive flick of the hand as he tells everyone to "get out". There are plenty of fine supporting players too. Ralph Bellamy is perfect as Hildy's would-be husband Bruce, Bellamy being an intelligent man who is good at acting a buffoon.
The action is overseen by ace director Howard Hawks. Hawks is brilliant at handling smooth switches between the general and the specific. The movie begins with a lengthy tracking shot (or rather two shots, but the blend is disguised) going right-to-left, showing off the indistinct business and bustle of the newsroom, before coming to rest on a slightly more empty end. Then Rosalind Russell enters, and we follow her with another tracking shot left-to-right. It's a great way of introducing the character. This second tracking shot is ostensibly a reversal of the one before it, but the first one is a broad picture of a place and the second has its focus on one person. Throughout, Hawks encourages not only the oft-praised overlapping dialogue, but also punchy visual collages of tense and hasty movements. Whenever the gaggle of reporters are in the room there's always one chewing gum or shifting his balance. His Girl Friday begins at high speed and from then on barely pauses for breath.
Of course, not all the genuine women's pictures of the 30s and 40s were poorly-written, and in fact a lot of them I enjoy immensely. But seeing His Girl Friday, a woman's movie that became one almost by accident, is a breath of fresh air when one compares it to the stereotyped imagery that was actually pitched and presented to women. It also happens to be a fun, witty and nicely-made movie.