Knight at the Movies ARCHIVES
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Classics and one that's just passing through:
The Cary Grant Box Set and Firewall
Expanded Edition of 2-8-06 Knight at the Movies/Windy City Times column
by Richard Knight, Jr.
The Cary Grant Box Set and Firewall
Expanded Edition of 2-8-06 Knight at the Movies/Windy City Times column
by Richard Knight, Jr.
A new box set that's aces and a middling thriller that's not even in the game
Oceans of ink have been written about the eternal appeal of Hollywood legend Cary Grant. How to explain his effortlessness on the
screen? His equal appeal to both men and women? His ease with comedy and drama? What was the story behind that casual yet
foreboding charm? That veneer of darkness that seems to seep through every once in awhile? For gay audiences of course, the
elusive question of Grant’s sexuality is perhaps the most tantalizing.
After sharing a house with fellow bachelor Randolph Scott in the early 30s and especially after a picture magazine ran a seemingly
innocent but spectacularly coded photo spread showing the two “boys” frolicking in the pool, breakfasting at the table and “playing”
around on the beach, the question forever after haunted the two. Since his death there have been periodic denials by Grant ex-
wives and relatives about his sexuality but the question dangles in the air. None of the film critics and historians that appear on the
extra features of a new DVD collection of Grant movies addresses the subject and of course, none of the films do either. But
nevertheless, like so many other movies of the golden era, subtext and imagination offer plenty in the way of GLBT material in each
of these wonderful Grant starring vehicles.
The Cary Grant Box Set from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment includes The Awful Truth (1937), Holiday (1938), Only Angels Have
Wings (1939), His Girl Friday (1940) and my personal favorite, The Talk of the Town (1942) – five of the films that both made Grant a
star and cemented his reputation. For any fan of Grant’s work, this set is a must have. Each is a bona fide classic, expertly written,
shot and directed by no less than Leo McCarey, George Cukor, Howard Hawks, and George Stevens.
Grant had already made over 20 pictures when he finally found what has come to be known as the quintessential Cary Grant
character in the cross-dressing comedy Sylvia Scarlet in 1935. This was the debonair clotheshorse who tossed off his dialogue at
lightning speed (harkening back to Grant’s a/k/a Archie Leach’s cockney beginnings) and practically trotted into a room. The precise
haberdashery and personal grooming was matched by a physical but decidedly wacky grace (it was nothing to see Grant take a
pratfall or do a cartwheel).
Though Sylvia Scarlet had been a flop, Grant knew he had found his niche and cemented it in the minds of audiences in 1937. First
with the zany Topper and then with The Awful Truth, the first movie included on the set. Grant co-stars for the first time with the
delightful but almost forgotten Irene Dunne (fresh from a triumph in Cukor's fellow gay director James Whales’ Showboat). They
portray a sophisticated couple that almost flippantly heads for divorce court and then realizes that they truly love one another.
Sensible Ralph Bellamy costars but it is raspy voiced Cecil Cunningham as Dunne’s fun loving aunt and Esther Dale as Bellamy’s
conservative mother that provide the laughs. Gay audiences will immediately recognize that Dunne’s vocal coach (played by
Alexander D'Arcy) who Grant is jealous of (perhaps because he wants him for himself?) is one of their own.
Next up in the set is Holiday (1938) which is making its DVD debut at long last. Grant re-teamed with Katharine Hepburn under the
helm of gay director George Cukor. Hepburn plays rich girl Linda Seton yearning for a simple life who falls for her frivolous sister’s
fiancée, Johnny Case (Grant). When Grant enters the impossibly large mansion of the Seaton family for the first time he’s literally
like a breath of fresh air. And Hepburn isn’t the only one influenced by the freethinking Johnny, her brother Ned (played by a droll
Lew Ayres), forced into a life of corporate servitude by the tyrannical father, dreams of getting away and becoming a musician (it’s
not hard to imagine him wanting to act on a few other impulses, either). The film, based on the stage play, failed with audiences of
the time. Though Grant and Hepburn match up beautifully on the screen, this early example of the present day “dramedy” must
have been hard for Depression era audiences to sympathize with – rich people problems weren’t exactly big box office (then or now).
In 1939 Grant who had just shot the action picture Gunga Din (one of the few he did) next played the hard bitten pilot at a tiny South
American airport high up in the mountains in Only Angels Have Wings. Under the direction of Hawks, Grant, in shabby clothes with
stubble, gives an unusually bitter performance as the stoic, tough Geoff Carter who calmly talks his pilots through the mists and
refuses to allow anyone to mourn those who crash. Jean Arthur plays the incredulous passerby who learns how to love Carter and fit
in with the boys (hmmm…) without making demands. The sumptuous Rita Hayworth finally broke through in a supporting part as
Grant’s ex-girlfriend. In a year that’s been called Hollywood’s greatest (Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz were just two of the
other classics released that year), the superb Wings has sometimes been overlooked.
When Hawks set about directing His Girl Friday in 1940 again with Grant in the lead he made a brilliant deduction: the screenplay was
actually the story of a romance – never mind that the basis for the movie, the stage hit The Front Page, was the story of two
newspaper MEN. Hawks changed the character of tough talking, writing whiz Hildy Johnson to a woman and had the good fortune to
cast Rosalind Russell in the part. Though Grant’s verbal sparring with Dune and Hepburn are a joy to behold, nothing compares to
the battle of wits that he and Russell engage in. And famously, the dialogue is spoken so quickly that you find yourself holding your
breath, afraid to miss the laughs. The story focuses on editor Grant’s refusal to give up Russell, his star reporter (and ex-wife) to
marriage (again to stuffy, nice guy Ralph Bellamy). By tempting her with a big story he wins the day – though it’s a foregone
conclusion that early feminist Hildy won’t be taking marching orders from anyone. This picture has long been in the public domain
and available in dreadful versions and it’s wonderful to see it in a pristine restoration.
Finally, the set includes one of my favorite Grant films, 1942’s The Talk of the Town in which he again co-stars with Jean Arthur and for
the first time with Ronald Colman. “Oh, I’d love to come work for you, it will be like a mental holiday” Arthur says to Colman, stating
perfectly the effect of this mid-career George Stevens comedy-drama on its audience. This time Grant plays one Leopold Dilg,
political activist, escaped convicted arsonist and expert wisecracker. Holing up in the attic of the house that former sweetheart Arthur
has just rented to stiff upper lip and Supreme Court judge contender Colman, Grant sets out to prove his innocence. There are
many solemn speeches about the rights of the Common Man on the road to freedom but that’s the Maguffin. The film’s essence
and lasting appeal is its romantic triangle with Colman and Grant subconsciously representing the two distaff sides of love: good and
pure versus hot, sexy and exciting between which the delicious Jean Arthur must choose. A delight in every sense of the word.
Each of the discs include newly created featurettes that focus on the making of the films with the aforementioned critics and
historians (including Peter Bogdanovich and Molly Haskell) and the set is attractively packaged with reproductions of lobby cards and
posters from the films. For completists who already have everything but Holiday, Sony will be releasing that disc separately.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Harrison Ford, a bit long in the tooth to say the least, plays a technology expert whose family is held hostage by some very cute
criminals in Firewall. They want him to break into the bank where he works and transfer a lot of lettuce or else! The ringleader
has the required British accent and actually says things like, “You bore me” to one of his henchmen. Later he withholds the gasping
little boy’s medication when he purposely feeds him something he's allergic to. The plot turns on the use of an iPod, a barking dog
tracked through an ID collar (this brought howls of laughter from the audience of critics) but never relies on its biggest asset: Virginia
Madsen, cast as Ford’s wife. The movie’s biggest crime, however, is trapping her in the house while Ford is free to roam around.
Had the formula been reversed, things might have gotten pretty interesting instead of awfully (accent on awful) predictable.
screen? His equal appeal to both men and women? His ease with comedy and drama? What was the story behind that casual yet
foreboding charm? That veneer of darkness that seems to seep through every once in awhile? For gay audiences of course, the
elusive question of Grant’s sexuality is perhaps the most tantalizing.
After sharing a house with fellow bachelor Randolph Scott in the early 30s and especially after a picture magazine ran a seemingly
innocent but spectacularly coded photo spread showing the two “boys” frolicking in the pool, breakfasting at the table and “playing”
around on the beach, the question forever after haunted the two. Since his death there have been periodic denials by Grant ex-
wives and relatives about his sexuality but the question dangles in the air. None of the film critics and historians that appear on the
extra features of a new DVD collection of Grant movies addresses the subject and of course, none of the films do either. But
nevertheless, like so many other movies of the golden era, subtext and imagination offer plenty in the way of GLBT material in each
of these wonderful Grant starring vehicles.
The Cary Grant Box Set from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment includes The Awful Truth (1937), Holiday (1938), Only Angels Have
Wings (1939), His Girl Friday (1940) and my personal favorite, The Talk of the Town (1942) – five of the films that both made Grant a
star and cemented his reputation. For any fan of Grant’s work, this set is a must have. Each is a bona fide classic, expertly written,
shot and directed by no less than Leo McCarey, George Cukor, Howard Hawks, and George Stevens.
Grant had already made over 20 pictures when he finally found what has come to be known as the quintessential Cary Grant
character in the cross-dressing comedy Sylvia Scarlet in 1935. This was the debonair clotheshorse who tossed off his dialogue at
lightning speed (harkening back to Grant’s a/k/a Archie Leach’s cockney beginnings) and practically trotted into a room. The precise
haberdashery and personal grooming was matched by a physical but decidedly wacky grace (it was nothing to see Grant take a
pratfall or do a cartwheel).
Though Sylvia Scarlet had been a flop, Grant knew he had found his niche and cemented it in the minds of audiences in 1937. First
with the zany Topper and then with The Awful Truth, the first movie included on the set. Grant co-stars for the first time with the
delightful but almost forgotten Irene Dunne (fresh from a triumph in Cukor's fellow gay director James Whales’ Showboat). They
portray a sophisticated couple that almost flippantly heads for divorce court and then realizes that they truly love one another.
Sensible Ralph Bellamy costars but it is raspy voiced Cecil Cunningham as Dunne’s fun loving aunt and Esther Dale as Bellamy’s
conservative mother that provide the laughs. Gay audiences will immediately recognize that Dunne’s vocal coach (played by
Alexander D'Arcy) who Grant is jealous of (perhaps because he wants him for himself?) is one of their own.
Next up in the set is Holiday (1938) which is making its DVD debut at long last. Grant re-teamed with Katharine Hepburn under the
helm of gay director George Cukor. Hepburn plays rich girl Linda Seton yearning for a simple life who falls for her frivolous sister’s
fiancée, Johnny Case (Grant). When Grant enters the impossibly large mansion of the Seaton family for the first time he’s literally
like a breath of fresh air. And Hepburn isn’t the only one influenced by the freethinking Johnny, her brother Ned (played by a droll
Lew Ayres), forced into a life of corporate servitude by the tyrannical father, dreams of getting away and becoming a musician (it’s
not hard to imagine him wanting to act on a few other impulses, either). The film, based on the stage play, failed with audiences of
the time. Though Grant and Hepburn match up beautifully on the screen, this early example of the present day “dramedy” must
have been hard for Depression era audiences to sympathize with – rich people problems weren’t exactly big box office (then or now).
In 1939 Grant who had just shot the action picture Gunga Din (one of the few he did) next played the hard bitten pilot at a tiny South
American airport high up in the mountains in Only Angels Have Wings. Under the direction of Hawks, Grant, in shabby clothes with
stubble, gives an unusually bitter performance as the stoic, tough Geoff Carter who calmly talks his pilots through the mists and
refuses to allow anyone to mourn those who crash. Jean Arthur plays the incredulous passerby who learns how to love Carter and fit
in with the boys (hmmm…) without making demands. The sumptuous Rita Hayworth finally broke through in a supporting part as
Grant’s ex-girlfriend. In a year that’s been called Hollywood’s greatest (Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz were just two of the
other classics released that year), the superb Wings has sometimes been overlooked.
When Hawks set about directing His Girl Friday in 1940 again with Grant in the lead he made a brilliant deduction: the screenplay was
actually the story of a romance – never mind that the basis for the movie, the stage hit The Front Page, was the story of two
newspaper MEN. Hawks changed the character of tough talking, writing whiz Hildy Johnson to a woman and had the good fortune to
cast Rosalind Russell in the part. Though Grant’s verbal sparring with Dune and Hepburn are a joy to behold, nothing compares to
the battle of wits that he and Russell engage in. And famously, the dialogue is spoken so quickly that you find yourself holding your
breath, afraid to miss the laughs. The story focuses on editor Grant’s refusal to give up Russell, his star reporter (and ex-wife) to
marriage (again to stuffy, nice guy Ralph Bellamy). By tempting her with a big story he wins the day – though it’s a foregone
conclusion that early feminist Hildy won’t be taking marching orders from anyone. This picture has long been in the public domain
and available in dreadful versions and it’s wonderful to see it in a pristine restoration.
Finally, the set includes one of my favorite Grant films, 1942’s The Talk of the Town in which he again co-stars with Jean Arthur and for
the first time with Ronald Colman. “Oh, I’d love to come work for you, it will be like a mental holiday” Arthur says to Colman, stating
perfectly the effect of this mid-career George Stevens comedy-drama on its audience. This time Grant plays one Leopold Dilg,
political activist, escaped convicted arsonist and expert wisecracker. Holing up in the attic of the house that former sweetheart Arthur
has just rented to stiff upper lip and Supreme Court judge contender Colman, Grant sets out to prove his innocence. There are
many solemn speeches about the rights of the Common Man on the road to freedom but that’s the Maguffin. The film’s essence
and lasting appeal is its romantic triangle with Colman and Grant subconsciously representing the two distaff sides of love: good and
pure versus hot, sexy and exciting between which the delicious Jean Arthur must choose. A delight in every sense of the word.
Each of the discs include newly created featurettes that focus on the making of the films with the aforementioned critics and
historians (including Peter Bogdanovich and Molly Haskell) and the set is attractively packaged with reproductions of lobby cards and
posters from the films. For completists who already have everything but Holiday, Sony will be releasing that disc separately.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Harrison Ford, a bit long in the tooth to say the least, plays a technology expert whose family is held hostage by some very cute
criminals in Firewall. They want him to break into the bank where he works and transfer a lot of lettuce or else! The ringleader
has the required British accent and actually says things like, “You bore me” to one of his henchmen. Later he withholds the gasping
little boy’s medication when he purposely feeds him something he's allergic to. The plot turns on the use of an iPod, a barking dog
tracked through an ID collar (this brought howls of laughter from the audience of critics) but never relies on its biggest asset: Virginia
Madsen, cast as Ford’s wife. The movie’s biggest crime, however, is trapping her in the house while Ford is free to roam around.
Had the formula been reversed, things might have gotten pretty interesting instead of awfully (accent on awful) predictable.