CARY GRANT: HOLIDAY / ONLY ANGELS HAVE WINGS / TALK OF THE TOWN / HIS GIRL FRIDAY / THE AWFUL TRUTH - DVD review

"Everybody wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant"
—Cary Grant


That wonderful quote from the man who was born Archibald Alexander Leach just about says it all. Cary Grant was handsome, suave, debonair, clever, youthful, manly, and such a "babe magnet" that he never, ever had to make the first move. Grant was outgoing, glib, and seldom at a loss for words. Onscreen, things seemed to come easy for him. But that wasn't the case with the man who would become Cary Grant.

Born to an impoverished family in Bristol, England, Leach ran away from home at age 13 to join an acrobatic troupe, and when the group played New York in 1920, he decided to stay. He didn't make it his first time in America as a song-and dance man, lifeguard and walking billboard, so he returned to England to work in musicals. His big break came when Arthur Hammerstein brought him back to New York for a Broadway musical. When Leach went Hollywood, he played bit parts and supporting roles until he was cast opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Blonde Venus" (1932). But it was another quote that really launched his movie career. When Mae West pursued Grant in "She Done Him Wrong" (1933) and purred, "Come up and . . . see me sometime," the image of the ladies man who inspired women to make the first move was born.

It's appropriate that Sony used Grant's famous quip on this set, because the actor's onscreen persona was really shaped during the late '30s and early '40s, when he starred in mostly screwball comedies for Columbia. The new Cary Grant Box set features five films on five discs from those breakthrough years, four of which are screwball comedies and one of which is being released on DVD for the first time. And what a set this is. Though it's not a critic's job to tell readers what to buy or what not to buy, it's hard not to tout this set as a must-have for lovers of American cinema, particularly fans of screwball comedies or Cary Grant.

The five films are: "The Awful Truth" (1937), a sophisticated comedy about a husband and wife (Grant and Jean Arthur) who file for divorce, then sabotage each other's dating attempts; "Holiday" (1938), which paired Grant with Katharine Hepburn as two free spirits who eventually find each other, despite Grant being engaged to her sister; "Only Angels Have Wings" (1939), a melodrama with comedic moments about mail pilots plying their dangerous trade in remote Banana Republic locations, with Rita Hayworth and Arthur upping the testosterone levels; "His Girl Friday" (1940), a fast-moving, faster-talking screwball comedy about a newspaper editor who cons his ex- into sticking around and covering one last story about an escapee from death row; and "Talk of the Town" (1942), which paired Grant and Arthur again in an unusual blend of melodrama and screwball comedy about an escaped falsely-accused arsonist and murderer who takes refuge in a house rented to a Supreme Court nominee they hope to persuade to get involved.

John J. Puccio has already posted an excellent review of the Howard Hawks-directed "His Girl Friday," so I won't cover the same ground twice. Let me just say that I agree with everything John wrote except for his final rating. He gave it an 8, but since it's one of the flawless, legendary screwball comedies, I'd have to give it a 10. I'd award a 9 to "Talk of the Town," an 8 to "Holiday" and "Only Angels Have Wings," and a 7 to "The Awful Truth"—ironic, perhaps, because the lone Oscar for Best Direction in this group went to "Awful Truth" director Leo McCarey. But a 10, a 9, two 8s, and a 7 is some kind of collection. Not a weak film in the bunch, and collectively they chart the development of a screen legend who had just begun to hit his stride.

We're apparently fortunate to even have "Holiday" on DVD, because it's presented by the UCLA Film & Television Archive and is visually rough, compared to the other offerings. But once the witty script kicks in like a slick placebo, we forget all about the graininess and become absorbed in the characters. Make that "players," as the credits called them, back when everyone was conscious of film's partial evolution from the stage. But the nice thing about that stage kinship mentality was that more emphasis and work seemed to routinely go into the writing and performances. There's a lot going on, and a lot to savor.

"Holiday" features a delightful script that offers the acrobatic Grant as John Case, a free spirit who just finds out the girl he met and proposed to is stinking rich. Rather than treat money with reverence or ignore the family's opulent digs, as polite company would, he revels in it. "Oh boy!" he rubs his hands together, remarking how lucky he is to be marrying into money. This, of course, rankles his prospective father-in-law, Edward Seton (Henry Kolker) and bride-to-be, Julia (Doris Nolan), but he's exactly the breath of fresh air that her jaded, alcoholic brother (Lew Ayres as Ned) and equally free-spirited sister, Linda (Hepburn) have been looking for. Set completely in the Seton mansion, the "Holiday" turns on an engagement party that reveals a few things to everyone.

Grant is at home as a free spirit connecting with other strange "birds," and "Holiday" has plenty of energy, charm and some dynamite lines. Case: "When I'm in a position like this I usually ask myself, What would General Motors do? And then I do the opposite." He's an orphan whose best friends are married, eccentric academics (Edward Everett Horton and Jean Dixon). Case has been working since he was 10 and wants an extended holiday from work while he's still young enough to enjoy it, so that he can return to work knowing WHY he's working. That doesn't match Julia's plans for him, which has him becoming part of the family's wealth-generating juggernaut. But "Holiday" is a classic example of a stage-centric screenplay that manages to convey great complexity despite a surprisingly simple plot. It's all in the lines and engaging performances. Yes, it's predictable, but Grant, Hepburn, and the other "spirits" are a joy to watch. As I said, I give "Holiday" an 8 on DVD Town's 10-point scale.

"The Awful Truth" is actually quite similar in it's staged quality, with limited sets and a small, core cast. Grant and Irene Dunne play an upscale couple who are the subject of infidelity rumors--—ones that are hard to dispel when, for example, Lucy Warriner walks in with a handsome "friend" thinking her soon-to-be-ex, Jerry, not around. But Mrs. Warriner isn't as much of a swinger as everyone thinks. Lucy moves in with a free-spirited aunt (yes, it was a convention in screwball comedies to pit the free spirits against the stuffed shirts), played by a dry-witted Cecil Cunningham. As a woman accustomed to going out more, Aunt Patsy complains, "If I knew we were going to be buried side-by-side, I never would have taken this apartment with you." Then she meets a wealthy Oklahoman (Ralph Bellamy, as Daniel Leeson), and that's where the screenplay takes a dip in the shallow end of the pool.

Many will respond better to Bellamy's aw-shucks naivete than I did, but I found it a bit too easy—the equivalent of hitting a bulls-eye on the side of a barn—to make jokes at the rich "bumpkin's" expense. There are also moments where the target broadens even more uncomfortably, as when Jerry turns to a showgirl with a southern accent and quips, "How long have you been talking like Amos 'n' Andy?" And there are a few head-snapping details, like the revelation that this sophisticated New York couple owns a coal mine, and has fossil fuels in common with the oilman. In typical screwball fashion, there's a full complement of misunderstandings and mishaps that eventually land the unhappily-near-divorced couple in court . . . in a custody dispute over their terrier, of all things. Overall, while the writing is crisp and the performances are solid, I found the script to be not as fresh as "Holiday," despite being similar in structure and tone—which is why I give it a 7 out of 10.

"The Talk of the Town" is the real wild card in this set. It begins like an old gangster film, with a prison break, sirens, and "manhunt" headlines splashed across newspapers. Imagine audiences' horror as they watched Grant strangle a guard and look positively desperate in the opening escape scene. But after a tense moment when we watch him spy on a woman inside her house and break in, we realize that in this small town everyone knows everyone else. And just as Miss Nora Shelly (Jean Arthur) is about to order the injured Leopold Dilg (Grant) out of the home she used to live in on the night before a renter is to take up residence, he passes out and she decides to help him up to the attic. In no time at all, Shelly becomes convinced of Dilg's innocence—that, because of his union sentiments and whistleblower actions, he's being set up by the textile baron who runs the town. Enter an esteemed law professor (Ronald Coleman as Prof. Michael Lightcap) one day early, demanding to stay in the house he's rented. And just like that—with a triangular dilemma and a musical transition that's by turns ominous and comedic—the film shifts into screwball mode.

There are moments throughout when the modes collide again, or when the screenplay becomes issue-oriented with debates over the law and legal system, but the flow seems as organic and seamless as this genre gets. The plot turns on a plan by Dilg, his lawyer (Edgar Buchannan as Sam Yates), and Miss Shelly to "thaw" the cold-hearted academic before the Supreme Court nominee takes his place on the bench . . . with the more immediate goal being his intervention in the Dilg case. With the mill owner turning up the heat and firing up the town to lynch-mob intensity and police closing in with dogs, director George Stevens has fun with the odd, three-way domestic situation that develops when Dilg can't keep his left-leaning mouth shut. As the professor dictates to Miss Shelly a chapter from a book he's writing, Dilg blurts out his objection. It turns out that the professor loves a good philosophical debate, especially when it comes from the salt of the earth. Dilg pretends to be Joseph, the gardener, and naturally both men grow to be fond of each other, and of Miss Shelly, and she of them. So there's an interesting love thread, a manhunt thread, a philosophical discourse thread, and an educate-the-professor thread skillfully woven together. The script is accomplished, the direction skillful, and the performances rich and expansive, which is why I give "The Talk of the Town" a 9 out of 10.

"Only Angels Have Wings" is the odd entry in this package-—the only pure melodrama (albeit one with a few humorous lines and moments) in an otherwise comedic bunch. But it's an interesting film because it showcases Grant's range. We watch him act opposite a melodramatic player (Rita Hayworth, as a former flame) and a breezy, fast-talking showgirl (Jean Arthur again). And while Grant handles both adroitly, there's just a chemistry that pops and sizzles when he plays off of the actress who has comic instincts.

Filmed mostly on a soundstage but with real aerial photography cut in and some exterior shots of rough terrain, Howard Hawks' story of maverick flyers features Grant as a top pilot-turned-boss of an operation hoping to land a long-term mail contract. There's a "Heart of Darkness" noir feel to the set, with the fliers based at a hotel/bar/restaurant owned and operated by Dutchy (Sig Ruman, whom you'd swear was a young Karl Malden). Naturally, to illustrate the danger of their occupation, one of them has to bite the dust fairly early in the film. "Rockford File" fans will enjoy briefly seeing Noah Beery, Jr. (Rocky) as the script's sacrificial lamb. Thomas Mitchell (Uncle Billy, "It's a Wonderful Life") turns in a great performance as the hero's sidekick, a middle-aged flyer needing glasses who still goes by the nickname "Kid."

The plot twists and turns, with the actors barrel-rolling with whatever's tossed their way. Partly it's the quality of acting, but partly "Only Angels Have Wings" is successful because it proves that it IS possible to make a great melodramatic film, one driven by plot and coincidence rather than characterizations. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that Hawks' film is easily among the best unabashed melodramas I've seen. You recognize all the conventions as they whip past your viewer's cockpit, but they come so quickly and in such unexpected places that your interest is fixed as intently as if you were the one flying with rain and fog pounding the glass. Umm, and condors--—though that's all I'll say on this point so as not to spoil it for anyone.

Arthur gives a powerful performance in this one, with Grant simply not given as interesting a role. He functions as the Papa he's affectionately called, as well as the taskmaster-—when perhaps his natural inclination is to play one of the maverick's himself. Still, it's an engaging film, and I give it an 8 out of 10.

Video: The films are all presented in black and white, 1.33:1 aspect ratio, with some graininess in all of them. "holiday" is the roughest, with some vertical line action in adition to fuzziness, graininess, and flickering imperfections. But the fact that we have this excellent film on DVD is something to celebrate. The other films aren't nearly as rough, and there's nothing that would indicate a poor transfer. Overall, the quality is very good.

Audio: The audio in all five films is Dolby Digital Mono, and the key here is that there isn't all that much in the way of hiss and other distortions—except, st times, in "Holiday." Overall, the quality is good.

Extras: The extras are modest, with one short feature per disc that covers, probably no more than two handsful of talking points. Most offer film critics talking about the legacy of a movie, though George Stevens, Jr. is the lone commentator in the one recalling his father's method. Remarks by people like Molly Haskell and Peter Bogdanovich are literate enough, but they feel like teasers or short features thrown in just to placate fans or to tip the hat in the direction of film classics. But in truth, the films deserved more.

Bottom Line: The popular Cary Grant really lends himself to box sets. Last year's "The Cary Grant Signature Collection" offered five films from 1940-48 ("My Favorite Wife," "Destination Tokyo," "Night and Day," "The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer," "Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House"), while "The Cary Grant DVD Collection" (2001) featured five films from later in Grant's career(1958-64's "Indiscreet," "Operation Petticoat," "The Grass is Greener," That Touch of Mink," "Father Goose." But this boxed seat is the strongest package yet, because it shows that young Grant was more than a box-office icon or pretty face. It more than amply showcases what the actor could do with strong scripts, wise direction, and talented co-stars.