Showing posts with label Cary Grant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cary Grant. Show all posts

Sunday, April 12, 2020

MovieMonday: Bringing Up Baby



This 1938 movie is known now as one of the best screwball comedies of its period, a time marked by the second blow of the Depression, a recession that had started a year earlier.  It was a moment when people were eager for humorous distractions.

This movie set out to fill that need, and, funny as it is, it was a flop that almost killed Katharine Hepburn's career.  After its release she moved back to New York, starred in a hot new Broadway play called The Philadelphia Story and returned to Hollywood to star in its smash movie version in 1940.  (Cary Grant costarred in all three productions.)

Since 1938, film students and audiences have changed their minds about Bringing Up Baby.  Its director, Howard Hawks, acknowledged years later that, yes, it was pretty wacky and none of the characters was believable.  But as light entertainments go, it is very, very fun.

The story involves a romance between two opposites.  Cary Grant plays Dr. David Huxley, an uptight, bespectacled paleontologist who collects old bones to recreate a brontosaurus skeleton.  His milieu is a stuffy museum, which suits him well.

He is coaxed out into the natural world to play a golf game with a lawyer who perhaps can help him raise money for his museum. 

Whom does he meet on the links?  Susan Vance (Hepburn) an impulsive and flighty heiress who is a better golfer and who steals his golf ball and then his car.  They meet up later at a nightclub, where David is still pursuing that museum donation and where Susan, besmitten, pursues David, over his adamant protests.

The next day, she takes him farther out in the world, to her wealthy aunt's Connecticut farm.  He carries with him a dinosaur bone, his most recent prize, and she takes a leopard named Baby, a recent gift from brother in South America.  (Get it?  David has/is a fossil and Susan has/is a minimally restrained wild animal.)

From there it's off to the races.  Naturally, the farm dog, George, gets hold of the dinosaur bone and, as dogs will, buries it for later enjoyment.  This requires David and Susan to follow George, hoping he will reveal where the bone, technically an "intercostal clavicle," is buried.  Meanwhile, Baby is let out of the barn by the drunken field hand.  Susan, her aunt and a big game hunter share stories over dinner with David while he darts out to follow George every time the dog leaves the room.

By the end of the evening, the whole bunch end up in the local jail, where their interactions with the befuddled constable call to mind an extended Marx Brothers scene, and where, of course, a second, less tame leopard makes an appearance.

David, while initially angry with Susan, admits intermittently that he's actually coming to enjoy being with her, at least some of the time. 

And so it goes.

Notes

In this film,  Grant and Hepburn play out of type, or at least out of the types that were more emblematic of their later careers.  Turns out Grant could do awkward, physical humor.  Seeing Hepburn as an impetuous wild child of a woman is a little disorienting, but she threw herself into the role just as Susan threw herself at David.

The script moves at rocket speed.  There is so much spoken dialog -- much, much more than I can recall in any recent film --  that one is tempted to wonder whether the screenwriters were paid by the word.  But the dialog, like the action, provides many laugh-out-loud moments.

It's difficult to think of a modern comedy that would compare to this.  Yes, the 2009 Hangover movie had a tiger, but it and its female follow-ons like The Bridesmaids involve a level of vulgarity that would have been unthinkable in the early part of the last century.  Who knew that the squares of those older generations could be so funny?

Sunday, April 5, 2020

MovieMonday: North by Northwest



Since movie theaters are closed I've spent recent weeks streaming classic movies on the big screen in the living room.

This is one I'm always happy to watch again.  It involves a New York advertising executive caught in a case of mistaken identity that goes horribly wrong.

I'd seen this movie several times, but it was only this time that I saw how the lead character, advertising executive Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant,) comes to be mistaken for a CIA spy named George Kaplan.  (My previous viewings of this film were in theaters, and so it is entirely possible that I was getting popcorn during this early scene, to my regret.)

Anyway, here it is.  Thornhill meets friends in the bar at the Plaza and realizes he needs to send a telegram.  Listen to what the bellhop is saying as Thornhill tries to get his attention.




Aha!

The film is a 1959 period piece, and not just for the telegram business or the old cars with tail fins.  Its Cold War premise is that a team of spies, presumably from the Communist Bloc, are willing to do anything to get some purloined microfilm out of the country.

First they try to kill George Kaplan/Roger Thornhill by pouring a bottle of bourbon down his throat and putting him behind the wheel of a car aimed into Hempstead Bay, which gets him arrested for car theft and drunk driving.  Then Thornhill tracks down the UN official who Thornhill believes has set him up, and alas, the official is stabbed and the police take out after Thornhill for the murder.  Thornhill eludes capture and meets a mysterious blonde, Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint,) on a train.

And things just keep going from there.

Arguably the film is over-plotted, with some notable rabbits pulled out of hats and with an unusual dose of pre-Vietnam cynicism toward the CIA, whose officials understand Thornhill's problem but care more about frustrating the other team's spies.

Cary Grant is great in this one, and not least because of the way he rocks a fine gray suit.  He manages get to himself out of one jam after another, sometimes with Kendall's help and sometimes not. The plot takes him to Chicago, to an art auction, to a Midwestern cornfield (the famous crop duster scene) and, finally, to South Dakota.  The final resolution occurs, of course, on Mount Rushmore.

Through it all, Thornhill/Grant has lighter moments of humor that don't interrupt the action.

If you haven't seen it, cue it up now.  If you have seen it, cue it up again.


Notes

Alfred Hitchcock often made cameo appearances in his films.  In this one, he is seen missing a bus on Madison Avenue as Thornhill steps out of his office building.

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Hitchcock had a real thing for icy blonde actresses -- Eva Marie Saint here, Janet Leigh in Psycho, Tippi Hedren in The Birds, Kim Novak in Vertigo and Grace Kelly in Rear Window.  

I seriously considered watching that last movie the other day, but then I thought that the story of a guy confined to his apartment -- not for social distance but with a broken leg -- just didn't sound all that appealing.