Hawks Marathon: Scarface (1932)

 I don't exactly know what to say about Scarface.  When you watch older movies that have attained classic status, you run the risk of something perhaps not aging as well as you'd hope.  To fully appreciate a movie, you need to understand the context, because just watching it by itself will make it not seem special.

Because... Scarface is very hard for me to take seriously if I'm being honest.  I had the same problem with The Public Enemy, and I suspect I'd have similar problems with Little Cesear as well.  The three movies were all made around the same time, and all helped create and influence the gangster drama to this day.

But I can't lie.  When I say I find it hard to take it seriously, I'm specifically referencing the beyond parody of how everybody talks.  Like I've seen people make fun of old time gangster voices, and I've seen parodies, but nothing can prepare you for the fact that those parodies... are not exaggerating in the slightest.

I don't know specifically why it's hard to take this seriously when other movies around this time also have goofy, parody ready voices.  I have two theories.  The first is that the goofy parody has tended to be a side character from the movies I've seen, and I can't take those characters any more seriously than I can here, but the characters you are actually supposed to care about tended to talk like a normal human being.

The second is that this is a gangster film and you're supposed to buy these guys as tough.  But the way they talk has so devolved into obvious parody by this point, that it is impossible to think of these guys as genuine threats.  It's like I'm watching a fucking Key and Peele sketch every time they open their mouth.

Which is a shame because, more than any other movie I've seen, I think this might be Hawks' best direction?  Or at least, it's the one where his direction is most evident.  Most of his movies are trying to hide his directing, which makes it tough to determine his influence beyond it just being a good movie.

Here, he makes the kind of choices that makes a director stand out, instead of hidden.  He has to show quite a lot of violence, and even though this was pre-Code, it needed to be obscured and hidden.  So in the opening scene, he has a very cool shot of a guy getting gunned down, seen purely through the shadows.  The camera then pans back to the body, which is now lying on the ground.

And he does that more than a few times and it's waaaaay more effective than actually showing the killing, especially then.  And there's very few actual people dying in front of us in this movie, and the few times they do, you're reminded why it's so much more effective to not show us the death.  Because actors did not know how to die on film in a way that didn't look goofy for... a long time.

I wish I could watch this movie and make my brain not notice the goofiness of the voices.  Especially since I can't really give you any sort of notes on the actors.  I've seen Paul Muni in two other things and this is my least favorite performance of his, but I also readily admit it's entirely due to the things everyone else in this movie was doing.  Everybody was guilty of the funny voices and weird mannerisms.

This is thankfully not one of those movies where I am befuddled over its reputation.  The damn 1930s gangster parody is the only problem I have with the movie, but it's a problem that's hard to ignore since any good gangster film makes you fear the gangsters.

It is weird that, despite this being pre-Code, Scarface seemed subject to Production Code era rules.  They have a ridiculous opening where they condemn gangsters and say we must stop them and what are the politicians doing.  I know they needed to change the ending - it's based on Al Capone - who most certainly did not die by the events of this movie.  And I'm sure they couldn't gotten away with what they got away with, but I just find it fascinating they still needed to change quite a bit.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on Scarface.  I'm going to not give a grade, because it's impossible for me to grade this.  It's a better movie than whatever grade I would give, but also I can't give a better grade because that would imply I bought into this world.  So, hopefully one day I can get used to the parody.

Hawks Marathon: I Was a Male War Bride (1949)

Watching I Was A Male War Bride, I realize how delicate the line is between a screwball comedy working and not working.  It's really no surprise they went out of style.  Not because there's no demand for a good screwball comedy, but because they are incredibly hard to pull off.

A screwball comedy has two things that are directly against how you normally make a movie.  The first is that you need to figure out how to force the plot into zany situations without making it obvious that's what you're doing behind-the-scenes.  Normally, in a movie, you write where the plot takes you, but with a screwball comedy, you're specifically forcing characters into wacko situations in a way that probably wouldn't naturally develop from your writing.

Secondly, you actually need to create believable characters who are probably going to behave irrationally in order to make the plot work.  Plot is derived from characters after all.  His Girl Friday is a perfect storm because the characters are why it's a screwball comedy - their world operates at a fast speed and everyone else is expected to keep up.  But the newspaper world is not how everyone operates.

Anyway, in case you didn't pick up on it, I think I Was A Male War Bride fails as a screwball comedy.  In the first half of the movie, a lot of the comedy is just so, so forced.  The train is still moving when the operator lifts up the boom barrier which defeats the whole purpose of the boom barrier.  Cary Grant climbs up a sign to read it which exactly zero people would ever do.  A child starts the motorcycle with a completely and inexplicably unaware Grant in the sidecar not realizing there's no one driving for an absurd amount of time.

But Gabe, this is a screwball comedy.  This is what happens in them.  If the gags are well set up, I accept these situations.  These gags are just incredibly forced, which only makes me realized how forced they are and I don't find them funny.

And for what it's worth, I wasn't disliking the movie up to this point either.  I was getting some strong It Happened One Night vibes from the first half of the movie.  And then, the writers realized "oh wait this movie relies on these two wanting to get married" and they forgot to, you know, set it up at all. 

The movie did two things successfully.  They showed them antagonistic towards each other and you believably thought they would get over that and eventually get together by the end.  But the writers skipped a step in the process.  Because the way it plays, Ann Sheridan very randomly decides she loves him.  Like there needed to be a step between them being playfully antagonistic towards each other and them loving each other.

I compared it to It Happened One Night for a reason.  The first half of this movie is pretty similar to the structure of that movie, only It Happened One Night still had the entire 2nd half of the movie for them to realize they love each other.  Like I said, it's like the writers realized "oh wait, we're not just copying that movie, we need to make him a war bride now."

It does not help that this is my least favorite Cary Grant performance so far.  It's Cary Grant, so the bar is high, but unfortunately for him, I'm comparing him to other Cary Grant performances, not typical leading man, so I was actually disappointed.  It seemed like he wasn't that interested in this movie personally?  He's got a very subdued performance.

I don't know I guess if you get right down to it, I didn't buy the chemistry between Grant and Sheridan.  I don't know if they were too successful at being snippy towards one each other or what, but I just think the moment when she falls in love with him wouldn't have seemed so random if I had bought into their chemistry.

And I know this is an American movie thing and that's it's based on something that happened to a French soldier and American woman, but Cary Grant being French and making no attempt at all at seeming like he's anything but an Englishman is weird.  I don't want Grant to try being French or anything, but why in the world did they not just make him British?  Bizarre.

I had higher hopes for this being a Hawks screwball and featuring Cary Grant, but unfortunately I Was a Male War Bride is not a movie I plan to revisit.

1.5/4 stars

Hawks Marathon: A Song is Born (1948)

I knew, going into this process, that A Song is Born was a musical remake of Ball of Fire, so I intended to spread them out as much as possible.  A Song is Born was also on Amazon Prime, a service which happens to remove movies without any notice at all, so after about a month, I felt enough time had passed to watch the musical remake.

Boy, they really weren't lying when they called this a remake.  This is exactly the same movie as Ball of Fire.  The difference is that Ball of Fire is obsessed with words, primarily early 1940s slang, while A Song is Born is obsessed with music, primarily jazz.  With the exception of when they play music, it's the same movie and I think almost the exact same dialogue.

Now, I can't say how I'd feel about this movie had I watched it first, but I didn't.  And so I really, really didn't like this movie.  And it's almost entirely due to the fact that everything about it is the same as Ball of Fire, but worse.  Everything is worse.

As I said in my Ball of Fire review, Gary Cooper didn't really do much for me in the few movies I'd seen him in prior to Ball of Fire, but nothing better exemplifies why he's good when you compare him to Danny Kaye in A Song is Born.  Now this is my first Danny Kaye movie and as I understand it, he's a lot different here than this in his other movies.  Which is good because it kind of feels like he's just trying to copy Cooper here, but poorly.

Then there's Virginia Mayo.  She really never had a chance.  Maybe she's good in other things.  But my reference point here is Barbara Stanwyck, and in the words of Howard Hawks, Virginia Mayo is no Barbara Stanwyck.  Few are, but never has that point been more clear than comparing Ball of Fire and A Song is Born.

Hell, I even like Dana Andrews as the gangster more in Ball of Fire than Steve Cochran here.  I'm telling you, every thing about this movie is worse than Ball of Fire.  And like I said, maybe if I hadn't watched that movie first, it'd be different.  Ball of Fire had a spark, the movie kept your attention, there was a rhythm to everything that happened.  This movie is just flat.

Well, except for one thing: the music.  I'd recommend A Song is Born just for the historical document, but I'd also tell you to skip everything but the music.  Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Barnett, Mel Powell - they're all in this movie and playing music and it's great.  It's the only good thing about the movie, but it's so good that it basically makes the movie worth watching by itself.

Speaking of, the plot makes much less sense here than in Ball of Fire too.  A grammarian working on an encyclopedia cut off from the outside world for years?  Makes sense that he isn't up to date on new slang.  A musical encyclopedia that is completely unaware of jazz makes... a lot less sense.  Surely these extremely smart professors know that music is constantly changing and they need to stay up to date.  I don't know, it seems insane to me that these experts on music just have never heard of jazz in 1948.

Sharing my distaste for this movie is... the director himself, Howard Hawks.  Who admitted that he only directed it because it came with a $250,000 paycheck, which is the equivalent of $2.7 million today.  He called Kaye a basket case because he had separated from his wife.  And he didn't have nice things to say about Mayo either, as expressed above.  He said it was a horrible experience.

How much can music save a film?  That's the question I'm debating when giving my grade, but let it be known that whatever my grade, the music is the only redeeming quality in this movie.  Just watch Ball of Fire instead.

2/4 stars

Hawks Marathon: El Dorado (1967)

Howard Hawks is known for his wide variety of genres he tackles, from screwball comedy to war to Westerns.  Having gone through a fair amount of his movies at this point, I will say that his versatility is probably a bit overstated.  It's perhaps the effect of watching his movies in a marathon setting - even if that setting is over a few months and not back-to-back - but his early to middle career seems defined by the screwball comedy.  And he tended to fall back on love triangles frequently.

Towards the end of his career, he gravitated towards one genre, Westerns.  I don't know if that was the only genre that interested him, or the only genre that he was actually allowed to make, but of his last six movies, three were Westerns and since John Wayne stars in one of the non-Westerns, I'm wondering if that will have the feel of a Western as well.

In any case, from what I understand, he made effectively the same Western three times, with one of those movies being El Dorado.  I am planning to watch all three by the end of the marathon, but for now, El Dorado is my first of the three.

And I'm kind of glad it's my first.  El Dorado and Rio Lobo are considered pale imitators of the bonafide classic Western, Rio Bravo (which was the first made of the three), and I really don't think I would have enjoyed El Dorado as much if I had just seen Rio Bravo recently.  Who knows?

I have a few complaints.  There is no suspension of disbelief I am capable of in believing that a woman who looks like Charlene Holt would be interested in a man who looks like old ass John Wayne.  Not to mention Wayne knew her as a kid and as I understand it, was something like a father figure, and yeah no.

Secondly, I don't actually think James Caan is very good in this movie.  I like James Caan.  And I'm mostly familiar with him as an older guy, where I think he just naturally has more presence.  Here, I don't know, he seems like a much worse actor than the James Caan I've watched.  (I haven't seen Godfather in a long enough time that I can't even remember how I felt about his performance, and that's the only young Caan I've seen I think)

Also, another John Wayne related complaint, but Wayne is just too old for this role.  Or out of shape.  Robert Mitchum specifically plays the out of shape, past his prime alcoholic that is very easy to buy, but Wayne still being as quick as ever?  Suspension of disbelief required.

I lead off with my complaints, because if you can get past those elements - and really if you're watching an older John Wayne movie, you probably understand what you're getting into and can look past those elements, then this is a good, solid Western.  You get exactly what you expect in this movie.

One thing that stands out is how great Christopher George is as the villain.  He mostly sits down, commenting on the action, bemused at the whole situation, and his performance alone makes you believe in his reputation.  Because... we don't really ever see it.  He has other guys do his bidding.  And it doesn't matter that we don't see it, because George has a great, above-it-all element.  It's so great that I'm genuinely disappointed he doesn't really seem to be in much else that I would watch.

Mitchum is of course great.  It's the type of great that can get overlooked because he's able to so embody his character, that it doesn't even look like he's trying.  And John Wayne, well, he's John Wayne.  He's playing John Wayne.  This is not one of those performances where Wayne is really acting.  And I'm starting to love Arthur Honnicut, who seems to be doing his best Walter Brennan impression here.

All in all, I enjoyed El Dorado despite my complaints.  It's a movie that doesn't feel like it should work as well as it does, but for some reason, it's able to blow past the things you can't accept and just makes you enjoy a good Western.

3/4 stars

Hawks Marathon: A Girl in Every Port (1928)

 Howard Hawks made movies for a very, very long time.  Because he was born in 1896, this means his career started in silent film.  I intended to watch at least one silent film in this marathon of his, and it just so happens that A Girl in Every Port was the only available online.  It was actually on Youtube and you can watch it now if you want.

Hawks made seven silent films, one of which ended up technically counting as a talkie even though it was filmed as a silent film and only had 15 minutes of dialogue added after the fact.  I don't believe any of his silent films have all that great of a reputation, which makes sense for a director whose most famous genre, screwball, is heavily reliant on dialogue.

But if one were to watch one silent film of his, it seems like A Girl at Every Port was the one to pick, the one that most resembles his later works.  Hawks biographer Todd McCarthy said that film scholars considered this to be his most important silent film work.  How lucky for me!  Or perhaps, the reason it was ever on Youtube and the reason others weren't.

Also, this is evidently the movie that put Louise Brooks on the map.  Or more accurately, it got the attention of G.W. Pabst, who directed two movies starring Brooks that made her an international star.  Brooks is an interesting figure to say the least.  She popularized the bob hairstyle and seemed like she would have fit in very well with the whole free love movement, although she was about four decades too early.

A Girl in Every Port kind of has a cartoon-like quality to it.  A sailor travels around the world and in every part of the world, he finds a girl, but each girl he finds has a mark of a different sailor.  Which I'm not entirely sure why this bothered him to be honest.  It's not like he was planning to marry any of them.

Anyway, eventually he runs into this guy, the one who seems to mark every girl - what a weird concept.  Like I said, cartoon logic.  And they get in a fight, but get interrupted by the cops, and both of them decide to fight the cops.  Spike, played by Victor McLaglen, pays for his own bail and his opponent, because he wants to return to the fight, but they end up working out their differences and become best friends.

Later on in the movie, Spike comes across Louise Brooks, who he falls in love with.  She's just stringing him along and has also been with Spike's best bud, Salami.  She's remarkably candid with Salami about this, essentially sharing that she plans to take this dude's money and bail.  Misunderstandings ensue, and male friendship is more important than any woman.

It's okay.  It was worth watching for me personally just to see Brooks and McLaglen, who was an early silent film star who successfully made the transition to sound, winning a Best Actor award in 1935.  But I don't know if most people would watch a movie just for that?

Like I said, the movie is best understood as a cartoon.  These two guys are able to take down like 10 cops by themselves and might as well be doing the cartoon arm punching 5 guys in one motion thing.  The tattoo thing on every girl is... just weird and Spike not willing to, it's implied, sleep with anyone with that tattoo is very weird.  Like why the fuck do you care, you really think all these women are just waiting for you and doing nothing else in the meantime?  Like I sort of get it in the sense that I know this is how men used to (and maybe still do) think, but I also don't get it because I don't know why this is a thing that would bother them if they don't actually plan to commit.

Anyway, Hawks didn't write most of his movies, or at least he didn't write the screenplays to most of his movies.  I know he could have probably have gotten a written by credit on some of his movies.  But he does write and direct this.  He seems to have little interest in title cards - they are used as infrequently as possible, with back-and-forth dialogue going on with no indication what they are saying except to use context clues to figure out.  Which is not particularly hard, I just found it interesting.

But the important element of Hawks writing this is that it considered to have the early makings of Hawks tropes.  Two men fighting over a woman.  Male friendship.  It doesn't really have one of the important elements, the Hawksian woman, because Brooks isn't really that.

I don't think Hawks liked his silent movies at all, because I don't think he wanted them to be silent.  In his later years, there was a Hawks retrospective in the 70s and one of his silent movies, Trent's Last Case, was on the list, and Hawks wanted it off the list and destroyed.  I am not kidding.  Now he doesn't like that for a specific reason - he thought it was going to be a sound movie but they didn't have the rights to make it a sound movie - so he found the whole movie a chore.  But I'm not sure he felt any more positive about his other silent movies either.  It's not like any of them are considered classics now.

And really, when you consider the things Hawks is famous for in his movies, it makes sense.  Hawks was successful quickly in the sound era.  His second sound film won an Oscar for best writing and three years after that, he made his first recognized classic, Scarface. (which I have yet to see, but hope to include on this marathon).  For now, he was boxed in within the limitations of what film could do.

2/4 stars