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That's a good point, and definitely one present throughout his works. I'm hesitant to call it typically a "haven" as often these spaces are temporary hangout areas when the 'goal' is to emerge from them to truly actualize one's existential aims in participation, rather than remain in them to bond- though clearly having these moment is what makes life worth living along with facing the outside world. Still, the plane in Air Force, the business in Only Angels Have Wings and the jails in Rio Bravo and El Dorado, to name a few examples, all allow the characters to develop and establish bonds to rejuvenate and increase their will power through supportive exchanges. What doesn't work for me in Thing is that these spaces are so overpopulated without any of this energetic transference occurring, which honestly bored me when normally Hawks can make them thrilling. For the record, I remember liking the film fine when I saw it in my early 20s, so maybe it failed in the context of the project next to his other works doing this thing better.

Air Force

This masterpiece is one of Hawks’ most underappreciated works, and up there (now with Sergeant York) for the best war films, period. As usual, thanks to domino for tirelessly championing it- I sought the film out around the time I joined this forum, back in my lurking days, based on his praise and in realizing it as a rare oversight/gap in my Hawks viewings. While I liked the film well enough then, it’s slowly become a favorite upon revisits. This last one, so close to the 40s watch, only continued its upwards trajectory. In case anyone is on the fence on shelling out the $10 for the DVD, this film is a priority.

therewillbeblus wrote: Thu Jul 25, 2019 4:30 am Air Force: Another revisit that held up miles better on a second viewing, the pieces finally falling into suit with Hawks’ comfortable rhythm of accentuated comradery. The stakes are high but pulses are kept mostly simmering for its first half because of the ambiance of dedication and loyalty that signify safety and social support.

Hawks’ optimism in a singleminded value structure is a welcome relief in a decade full of bleak postwar noirs that magnify the divide between men and society, isolated from the energy present between people here. No knock to those noirs and those themes, for I love them dearly, but here’s the spark of the golden age of movies, and no one realizes an idea by way of mood onto the silver screen quite like Hawks. Call it propaganda if you want, but iconography doesn’t define Hawks, people do, and yet they are connected to their identities through the codes they live by, which are often categorized as nationalist in their loyalties. The ensemble of characters coexisting in a limited space is reminiscent of the incredible Only Angels Have Wings, and taking the time to hang out with these men, flesh out their backstories, dreams, ticks, idiosyncrasies, and personal hierarchy of values within the system that binds them together is always a pleasure.

And yet Hawks doesn’t shy away from lingering on the horrors of war as he sees fit, often bringing his characters out into the open, with carefully constructed sets chalk full of production highs, explosions shaking the camera and winds blowing people onto their backs. By emphasizing the seriousness of the challenge that the security of loyalty must contest with, Hawks underlines the reasons why it must remain sturdy in its discipline. It’s probably significant that these men face these challenges primarily in outside spaces, or at least with Hawks’ cameras shooting from this vantage point, in contrast to the comfortable lightness in the confines of the plane, that feel anything but claustrophobic due to the warmth and depth emitted by the group’s collective energy. However, even in these tense moments when our blood is at a boil, there’s no sense of jarring disruption of Hawks’ worldview into a different reality. His outlook is consistent and there is a sense of safety in the power of groups, brotherhood, and moral value that binds the individuals while other movies would allow it to (perhaps more ‘realistically’) expose this as a facade. It may be a facade, but Hawks sells it and sells it well, because we want to believe it and because the subjectivity of connectivity between our fellow man is one of the most sought after achievements to cherish, something that we want to see come as easily as it does to Hawks’ winners.

Action, drama, ambient hangout scenes, and humor all form a package that is undeniably why many of us love movies and why I gravitate toward the Old Hollywood pictures when craving a synchronized equilibrium of intelligence, technique, boosted mood and spectacle. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a better film in the genre of war.

I want to backpedal and call myself out, in recognizing that my dismissal of this ethos is itself problematic. Similar to my thoughts on Only Angels Have Wings, this “facade” isn’t necessarily one at all, when you consider both the science and spiritual elevation behind social support strengthening an individual’s will power. This is an evidenced-based truth, that feels magical, about the boost and comfort that camaraderie gives us. I’m not suggesting that Hawks’ films are stark realism, but the positive consequences of their shiny coating aren’t necessarily falsehoods either. In fact, I think it’s undeniable that subjective truths become our realities when it comes to ideology, and the ethos that runs in the blood of these men fuels an optimistic worldview that is true. Considering the tied social and political contexts of this film’s release, I wouldn’t be surprised if many Americans had a spiritual experience watching this film, using this doctrine of fellowship as air to breathe, or a religion to believe in. Watching the film in an age of identity divorced from culture amongst whites in the western world, I want to be a part of this church.

In my original writeup, I didn’t really give appropriate praise to this cast and Hawks’ ability to tend to each of their needs separate and together, with uncontestable attention. The levels of intimacy are astounding, ranging from musings on personal strengths and burdens, which are balanced with their idiosyncratic mannerisms, such humming and smiling in a group; to meditative removals from the self into a collective spirit, and finally to the other pole- but no less romantic- in issuing awareness externally to the beauty of the world outside of their mental and physical chambers, to revel in the spectacle of the Golden Gate Bridge, for example. When they hear the radio broadcast about U.S. entering the war, the soldiers each have their own individual moment, yet together in the same room. The camera gives each face the time they deserve, just as it does the physical details they are focusing on as this memory becomes etched into their psyches for eternity.

This is Hawks’ very best film about camaraderie because of this multi-layered balance of dense characterization, explosive action (with astounding brutal violence), organic humor, real horror, judgments on cowardice vs heroics, rioting ego, sobering humility, empowered spirit and confrontations with mortality, from all of these possible angles (internal, collective, and looking beyond). Speaking of ‘angles,’ the perspective these men have by nature of their vantage points in the sky, of looking down on Pearl Harbor or other spaces populated with life and death, contains an existential experience all by itself, and Hawks explores all the possibilities a narrative film can from within. This is the inverse of Only Angels Have Wings’ "based" chamber piece, soaring into a tourist adventure of episodic escapades. It’s also arguably his dramatic masterpiece.

Man, it sucks how many of these interesting sounding early ventures McCarthy brings up are MIA. A Broken Doll is something I want to see today.

knives wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 5:49 pm Man, it sucks how many of these interesting sounding early ventures McCarthy brings up are MIA. A Broken Doll is something I want to see today.

My copy just arrived today, so I'll probably be spending the rest of the project reading it for context. Still need to order the Wood book too

How are people watching Hatari!? Because the Blu-ray sucks (and is OOP), right?

I used to have the DVD in the giant Paramount John Wayne box but then I sold it so the answer is I’m not

I saw it through Kanopy where it is streaming.

swo17 wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 6:58 pm How are people watching Hatari!? Because the Blu-ray sucks (and is OOP), right?

Is your local library open yet for a curbside pickup or something of that sort?

The blu-ray is far from ideal, but I don't see it as OOP? In any event it's available for Amazon (both .com and .ca) for $10.69.

therewillbeblus wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 7:09 pm

swo17 wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 6:58 pm How are people watching Hatari!? Because the Blu-ray sucks (and is OOP), right?

Is your local library open yet for a curbside pickup or something of that sort?

I can figure out a way to see it. I was hoping to mostly fill gaps in my Hawks collection by buying (so if Blu-rays get announced anytime soon for Sgt York, Air Force, Male War Bride, or Song Is Born, you're welcome) but for some reason I have a harder time pulling the trigger for a compromised Blu-ray. By the same token, apparently my old garbage Blu-ray for Rio Bravo has been updated with a slightly less garbage edition that has the same transfer but better audio and less extras :-s

Sgt York has/had a limited edition Blu-Ray in Germany, but I figured and still do that it turning up on the Archives is an inevitability so I never picked it up

The edge enhancement is the worst thing on the blu-ray for Hatari!, making it very disappointing overall. But it's still watchable in my book, and some scenes are less affected by it and actually look quite good (but they're in the minority!). (DVD Savant had a pretty positive review: Paramount's Blu-ray of Hatari! is a handsome widescreen transfer that betters the old DVD, from 2001. It's rich, sharp and colorful, if not as gloriously perfect as Paramount's new release Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.) But yeah I'd rate it a 2.5 out of 5 at best.

swo17 wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 7:37 pm I was hoping to mostly fill gaps in my Hawks collection by buying (so if Blu-rays get announced anytime soon for Sgt York, Air Force, Male War Bride, or Song Is Born, you're welcome)

I'd love to see a decent copy of A Song Is Born that details how ridiculous Danny Kaye's mannerisms are, and accentuates Virginia Mayo's sensuality properly.

Scarface (1932)

As with other gangster films of the period, Scarface opens with a written prologue condemning the violent crimes that will be depicted and demanding that its audience demand government reform. About midway through, a scene of journalists arguing over whether reporting the crimes helps alleviate them or glamorizes them once again expresses a blatant social moralism. I assume these were studio- or censor-board-mandated decisions, because they clash mightily with the film’s more complex tone.

Tony Camonte, as played by Paul Muni, is instantly likeable and charismatic, even if we don’t approve of his criminal lifestyle. Part of the reason we can overlook that is because he begins as a cartoon. He’s introduced to us as a hot-headed, tough-talking, adorably dumb hood with a big smile and a thirst for violence. When he gets hold of his first machine gun, he tells his boss, “Get out of my way Johnny, I’m gonna spit!” He then unleashes a torrent of bullets with eyes wide as a child’s at Christmas.

The murders depicted, however, are anything but exciting sensationalism. They are brutal, graphic (for the time), with shots often lingering on characters as they collapse dead. This perhaps suggests a fascination with violence, but there’s a solemnity about it as well. Hawks stylistically places X’s somewhere in the frame whenever a character dies or is about to die, like visual death knells.

Tony’s rise to power is swift, perhaps even too fast for him to comprehend. When the climax (which owes a lot in both visuals and action to Sternberg’s Underworld) rolls around and he’s backed in a corner, there is a real sense of defeat and bafflement as his control over everyone and everything around him dissolves. Filmed in deep shadow, this scene is truly his darkest moment, and the fun has ended for everyone. Even a comic-relief henchman draws sympathy as he utters his last boneheaded line. This film offers no blaze of glory like De Palma’s remake. Tony is reduced to whimpering jelly. It’s somehow touching. That’s certainly due in part to Muni’s performance, so ingratiating that he invites us to join in his revelry and then jolting us with his sudden realization of his doom. The subplot with sister Ann Dvorak is twisted, but even she proves to be human in the end.

Coming back to those moralizing elements, they stick out because they reflect the impact gang violence has on society while Hawks is more interested in the personal than on the societal. Tony is a classic tragic hero, and his story remains focused on the harm he brings to himself and those he knows. We get throwaway lines referencing children as unintentional casualties, but they are (disturbingly) quickly forgotten. Our sympathies are aligned with this man who has badly screwed up his life rather than the city he menaces. That final shot of “The World Is Yours” is both taunting and a bitter lament of what he could have been.

Bogart and Bacall

To Have and Have Not is an entertaining enough but minor Hawks, especially during his peak period. I also find it to be the weakest of the Bogart/Bacall collabs, and even though I like them both, I’ve never been hot under the collar from any steam between them. Still, Hawks has a knack for transporting an audience into his milieu and this is no exception. There’s fun to be had, and the innuendo games of verbal ping-pong reinforce engagement. Sometimes the film gets too comfortable though, and the extended breaks from action made me forget what greater plot I’m supposed to be invested in. After revisiting The Breaking Point for the third time recently, it’s hard to prefer this loose experiment next to that masterpiece.


The Big Sleep I’ve already touched on, but it’s narrative bliss. This is a tough film to actually write out thoughts on, because - like North By Northwest (which I realize I've compared this to enough to get my point across)- its greatest strengths are flawless entertainment via constantly advancing propulsion, vibrant character dynamics, and a participatory invitation for the audience to plant themselves in the adventure. This was always my favorite noir growing up, but it really doesn’t meet the criteria of true noir traits in a current evaluation with experienced context. Noir heroes may be self-actualized, but they often have a self-conscious fatalist apathy that Bogart doesn’t embody. He is more typical of the Hawksian Hero, who is simply the best- calm and collected. He has a harsh realist worldview, but there is no anxiety in his disposition, no existential crisis lingering beneath the cool facade, yet personifying Hawks’ empowered, confident existentialist. The film isn’t very interesting to dissect along a traditional noir schema, but if viewed as an adventure film wearing the clothes of noir, or a noir elevated to supreme self-assured acceptance of the philosophy, willing to make a home in a bleak world by finding the bright spots, then it can be. Bogart’s vices aren’t boiled down to one area of meaning, as he enjoys casually sleeping with women, flirtation, flaunting his intelligence, drinking, attending to a code of honor, and generally ‘besting’ his opponents. His existential quest can be seen as soaking up the pleasures of winning at life with no intention of departing it soon, rather than a narrow specific purpose before the more immediate end in sight; and in that way, it’s the perfect Hawksian noir.

To Have and Have Not is near the top of Hawks' filmography for me, but enthusiasm for the film might depend on how much Bogie+Bacall do for you. I recommend Molly Haskell's writing on their chemistry and the film in From Reverence to Rape, where she praises its reciprocity, domesticity, and complexity, particularly in relation to Bogart's idealistic martyrdom in Casablanca. I also love how THAHN and Only Angels Have Wings both end on the relenting of the main male character, in romance and, in Bogart's case, in taking a moral stand, without concluding the plot by showing the success or failure of the missions they're embarking on. It beautifully raises the stakes of the films' philosophies and characters while, surprisingly, eliding their stories.

I don't think To Have and Have Not is generally considered minor Hawks, quite the contrary, but I take it you mean that as your personal assessment, blus. I was always liked it a lot but the last viewing a little less so.

I don’t like To Have and Have Not much, but Godard sure did love quoting Brennan’s line about getting bit by a dead bee

I don't see anything particularly wrong with the film (and yeah, I meant minor in my own assessment!) as much as it doesn't spark for me- but as you say, Red Screamer, that reciprocity is definitely present, it just does very little for me (compared to the far more complex relationship in The Big Sleep that I outlined earlier in the thread). All I need to do is watch those films side by side (which I just did) to see a wave of difference. Part of their chemistry is natural across both films, but the complex games in the relationship are elusively thrilling in the latter film, and breezy fun in the former.

Red Screamer wrote: Mon Jun 08, 2020 9:58 pm I also love how THAHN and Only Angels Have Wings both end on the relenting of the main male character, in romance and, in Bogart's case, in taking a moral stand, without concluding the plot by showing the success or failure of the missions they're embarking on. It beautifully raises the stakes of the films' philosophies and characters while, surprisingly, eliding their stories.

Interesting take, as I feel like Grant's "relenting" in Only Angels Have Wings is in step with his own independence and wouldn't say it elides his story. He plays a game to passively show that he wants her to stay, but doesn't alter his personality to do so. I definitely see it as a form of growth, but I also think that if she hadn't deciphered the coin gag, she wouldn't have been 'worthy' of being his partner. He trusted her to do so, but I doubt he would have taken a single step off the base to chase her down.

The primary virtue of To Have and Have Not is that, along with Only Angels Have Wings, it is the best lit and best photographed of Hawks's films.

The new Scarface blu-ray has two versions, the theatrical and alternate cut. Does anyone know what's the difference between that and the previous existing dvd just having an "alternate ending"? And which one should I watch?

Rayon Vert wrote: Tue Jun 09, 2020 7:56 pm The new Scarface blu-ray has two versions, the theatrical and alternate cut. Does anyone know what's the difference between that and the previous existing dvd just having an "alternate ending"? And which one should I watch?

I can't answer your question definitively, but my thinking is that the "alternate" cut is just the theatrical version with the alternate ending seamlessly branched. Either way, the alt. version is described as censored, so stick with the theatrical. The alternate ending was filmed to appease the censors, but it was still rejected, so the film was released with its original ending. The alternate is best left as a supplement.

Red River

I wrote this up last year, and looking back after another revisit, I feel about the same. I haven’t touched enough on Hawks’ ability to shift and layer moods so delicately in my writeups so far, but he is a master of this challenging skill, along with many others. While not my favorite picture of Hawks to demonstrate this talent, I do think it’s the best model for his effortless ability to form such diverse combinations of tone. The film also takes Hawks’ interest in differentiating individuality from collectivism to its greatest extremes, following a more superficial and blurry dissection in Scarface, through showing how one isn’t just better with -but needs- the other.

therewillbeblus wrote: Sat Aug 17, 2019 10:39 pm

Red River

I used to think this was one of the most overrated westerns and middling Hawks. How wrong I was. More of a melodrama about man’s assignment of activity into a singleminded goal, too familiar to be Faustian and delicately gleaning the reaction of what happens when one vision encounters the variable of another man, splitting its unidimensional focus in two across a prism between solipsism and social connection. Individualism vs collectivism battle throughout this film, both embodying the American Dream, whether regarding capitalist business ventures and masculine goals or the ideological apparatuses of family and friendship, a band of winners forming a society with law, order, and nationalism that’s impossible to achieve alone. As per typical Hawks, this is not a ‘battle’ in the conventional filmic sense. The director is the reigning expert on how to shift various moods with ease so that they don’t fight for screen time, but complement one another, seamlessly transitioning or coexisting in layers like a five course meal served on the same plate.

This film has one of his better uses of tonal change, providing brief and unexpected scenes of harshness including but not limited to violence, as well as those of compassion and lighthearted playfulness. The juxtapositions are jarring but only softly. We experience the shifts and the auras cast over us like the grey skies in the film, but not with doom, for even in the darkest of moments there is cinematic energy that thrills before the temperature drops to a comfortable warmth. This is an adventure film where the adventure lies not as much in physical distance traversed as in another kind of exploration.

There is the adventure of the ‘internal’ as Wayne balances moral weight or allows the acidity of greed to deteriorate personal value systems. Then there is ‘external’ social adventure, in the short distance between two men sitting a horse’s length away, with eyes, voices, and postures exploring the other man, the self, and the space between; sizing up oneself and the subject of one’s scope. Is he target or ally, enemy or friend? Can he be both, and depending on one’s doctrine or mindset, mustn’t he be both? The ending used to bother me, but if taken as the surrender of bitter narcissistic individualism in expanding peripheries to the truth that Wayne is not the most important man on the planet, it works. The joke of life comes when the heavy facades of subjective value rationalized by egocentricity are exposed to the self. Camaraderie is the ideal for Hawks, a society man, and nothing is more meaningful than likeminded men finding social value in commonalities of virtue. Sharing a win together is better than achieving anything alone.

I understand why people don’t like the ending. It suggests an abruptly optimistic cap towards Hawks’ worldview and requires a leap of faith. This may not be my schema but that doesn’t mean part of me doesn’t admire it, or at least want it. I watch many movies, including Hawks’ output, to take a vacation into this worldview for two hours, and part of this process is that promise of the final win, the comfort of social connection that comes much easier in the movies.

A few additional thoughts: Wayne’s early choice in parting from a romantic union for individualized goals is met with immediate indirect consequences. Hawks wisely doesn’t dwell here, but the implication is that this soils Wayne’s ideas of value in his dreams. Although clearly buried in a repressed space in his psyche, there is an unacknowledged sense of responsibility for this death that in turn marks the death of his capacity -or willingness- to love, and so Wayne doubles down on his reasons to thrive through tangible selfish means. If he doesn’t succeed in this quest, what will that mean for his accountability, and even worse- will he then need to consciously face the event, when the forward momentum halts?

Simultaneously, this death sparks a part of him to become motivated in welcoming human connection, subconsciously but out of a need to connect and not doom himself to make the same mistake twice, which would be another kind of failure. This isn’t purely cognitively-logical so much as following an emotional internal logic that Wayne’s character would never recognize as such. He’s been affected by this loss, and in coping he adopts another human companion- perhaps one that the other half of him needs to ‘own’ on his terms, but therein lies the complex battle of the self! I’ve come to think this is Wayne’s best performance and most fascinating character, neck and neck with Ethan in The Searchers, but I prefer him here.

Tess is much more integral to the themes than most women in Hawke’ films. Her approaching Matt, and professing wisdom that the support of connection is the best cure for isolative pain, preaches this as the missing piece in the meaning of life. Tess’ exuberance demands him to participate and engage, offering a slap to her face if it means he will wake up and be his best self. She also initiates this change for Wayne, pushing him to remember what he’s tried so long to forget. For both men, she plants the seed that undoes the disease of their individualism that has finally made them sick, after allowing them to thrive for so long.

The complex reading Hawks blatantly suggests is that this wholeness isn't always ideal - and characters admit openly that without taking skewed breaks from collectivism toward pure individuality, they might have wound up dead along the way. Movement towards that wholeness at the right time through self-evaluation is what is preached, a grey area not even Hawks can, or is willing to, pinpoint on a map. And so the 'meaning of life' is dynamic, as all stages of life are, but this comprehensive welding of the two is what is ideal for the best of men under the right conditions.

Feego wrote: Tue Jun 09, 2020 8:25 pm

Rayon Vert wrote: Tue Jun 09, 2020 7:56 pm The new Scarface blu-ray has two versions, the theatrical and alternate cut. Does anyone know what's the difference between that and the previous existing dvd just having an "alternate ending"? And which one should I watch?

I can't answer your question definitively, but my thinking is that the "alternate" cut is just the theatrical version with the alternate ending seamlessly branched. Either way, the alt. version is described as censored, so stick with the theatrical. The alternate ending was filmed to appease the censors, but it was still rejected, so the film was released with its original ending. The alternate is best left as a supplement.

Thanks Feego. I didn't remember what the alternate ending was about.

A Song Is Born

I forgot how great this film is, which somehow takes Ball of Fire’s early strengths and doubles down on the deadpan possibilities in uncultured geniuses contending with street-smart sensuality. This is accomplished by simply allowing itself to be more narratively flexible with time management, yet also paradoxically revolving around a specific focal point of music rather than scrambling for all the possibilities in slang and other cultural subjects, which actually tightens the evenness of flow. My problems with Ball of Fire have always been its lagging sections and the strange lack of involving tension in Cooper and Stanwyck’s flirtations. This film rights that wrong first and foremost by casting Danny Kaye as a believably sheltered left-brain stiff. His subtle awkward physical comedy as he tries to move to rhythms and stares sideways at musicians is hysterical.

I realize this may also be a contentious opinion but.. I also prefer Virginia Mayo in the part. Her sexuality oozes and her ability to turn it on and off beats Stanwyck’s perf, though in fairness Stanwyck wasn’t giving it her all in trying to pull a Lady Eve (which this film oddly is, at least moreso in her initial self-invite!) Maybe I’m just not distracted by the recognizable stars here, but I suspect there’s a quiet power in finding a nimbler actor to contest with Mayo’s sexpot. She’s also far more dynamic than I expected, shedding her armor to unveil a cute ‘innocent’ singer on the stage at times, and asserting her erotic spells as weaponry in others. The tempered rhythm of the performances and formalist strategy also allows for the romantic moments to slide in seamlessly and linger in the liberal constraints offered by Hawks. Details like the passive information that the mother is dead, amidst a humorous gag of deception, splits two opposing emotions and layers them into the scene as if this is business as usual. Anyways this will surely make my list while Ball of Fire will not.