To Have and Have Not (1944)

Howard Hawks' To Have and Have Not spawned one of the greatest Hollywood romances of all times as well as one of the greatest lines ever uttered on screen. Adapted from Ernest Hemingway's novel of the same title, the film stars Humphrey Bogart as Harry "Steve" Morgan, a charter fishing boat captain. Based in Martinique, and so under the authority of the Vichy government in occupied France, Steve and his sidekick Eddie (Walter Brennan) try to eek out a living while dealing with crooked customers, avoiding the local authorities and dodging gun battles between resistance fighters and government agents. When his most recent customer dies before paying Steve, he's forced to take work transporting resistant fighters to the island. Into this mix of bullets and intrigue steps Marie "Slim" Browning (Lauren Bacall), a down-on-her-luck cabaret singer who's just trying to earn enough money to get back home to America. This was the first on-screen pairing of Bogart and Bacall and the electricity between them is palpable. Steve is loner and a tough guy, but Slim may be tougher than him. She casts her line and reels him in by simply telling him he can have her. "You don't have to say anything," she says, "and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow." And hence history was made. But things don't go all that easily for Steve and Slim. The French Resistance fighter that Steve is transporting panics when he should keep his cool and gets himself all shot up. Then Steve has to operate on the guy and remove the lead from him. Meanwhile, the authorities are circling in for the kill. They try to get information out of Eddie by plying him with booze, but Eddie's a lifelong drunk and he can take a lot of booze. Finally, in true Bogart fashion, the evil Vichy agents are defeated and Steve, Slim and Eddie escape on Steve's boat, bound for Florida and happily ever after.


Apparently, Hemingway had bet Hawks that Hawks could never make a film of To Have and Have Not. Hawks rose to the challenge and did so, but only by cutting out most of the novel and substantially rewriting the rest. He focused on a single incident at the book's beginning, expanding and embellishing it to get a full-length movie. The setting was moved from Cuba to Martinique, and the time was moved to after the war had started. In the book, Steve hauls illegal immigrants to Florida, while in the movie he's hauling resistance fighters. He's also a much nicer guy in the movie. This film also has the distinction of being the only movie to have been co-written by two Nobel-prize winning authors: Ernest Hemingway wrote the novel on which it was based, and William Faulkner wrote the screenplay. In spite of this high literary pedigree, it turns out - according to the IMDB - that most of the dialogue was actually improvised by the actors on camera. That's okay, though. It all works out great. As does the presence of the great Hoagy Carmichael as Cricket, the pianist at the local bar. In fact, this film was my introduction to Carmichael at the ripe young age of twelve, and I have been a fan of his music ever since. And all of this is wrapped up in a cracking good yarn with bad guys you can hate and good guys you can sympathize with. You can't do better than that.

To Have and Have Not is rated G and is filmed in glorious black and white. It has a runtime of 100 minutes.

Man's Favorite Sport (1964)

When it comes to the great outdoors, no one knows more than Roger Willoughby (Rock Hudson). Willoughby is the country's premiere expert on outdoors sports. He work's for Abercrombie & Fitch (the original A&F that sold high-end sporting goods, not the modern teen fashion shack). He teaches customers how to camp and hunt. He's written a best-selling book about fishing. Willoughby is the go-to guy for anything to do with nature. There's only one slight problem. Willoughby has never set foot in the woods. He lives in San Francisco. He's never been camping, doesn't hunt, and can't fish. In fact, he couldn't tell a trout from a salmon if his life depended on it. But as long as he can keep up the pretense of knowing, he'll be fine. Or so he thinks. Enter Abigail Page (Paula Prentiss) and Easy Mueller (Maria Perschy). These two finagle Willoughby's boss, Mr. Cadwalader (John McGiver) into entering Willoughby in a fishing contest to drum up business for the store. Sure that willoughby can't possibly lose, Cadwalader informs his outdoors expert that he's going into the outdoors.

Willoughby knows, of course, that he can't fish. He confides in Abigail. She tells him not to worry, that she and Easy will go along and help him out. Unfortunately, it's hard to tell just which of the three is more inept in the woods. Willoughby arrives at the lake loaded for bear, and runs smack into John Screaming Eagle (Norman Alden) a wise-cracking Native American who tries to make a touch on Willoughby. From here, the antics really get going. Willoughby can't do anything right. He can't even set up a tent, so he stays in a cabin at the lodge instead. When he tries to fish, he gets his line tangled in the trees, snags dead branches in the water, and nearly drowns himself on several occasions. Abigail and Easy devise a way to get Willoughby out of the tournament by pretending that he's got a broken arm. Unfortunately, when the cast dries, he can't lower his arm. Abigail removes the cast with a skill saw! And right in the middle of the whole mess, Willoughby's fiance shows up from Texas, wanting to know what he's doing with Abigail and Easy.

The biggest shocker of all, though, is that Willoughby actually wins the tournament with no help at all. Of course, he didn't actually catch the fish. They more or less committed suicide, by jumping on his hook when the line was tangled in some branches, by getting caught in his waders when he fell in the water, and several other means that have nothing to do with fishing. Because of this, Willoughby feels he can't accept the trophy. It just wouldn't be sporting. So he confesses everything. Of course, Cadwalader fires him on the spot, much to the dismay of his best customers. They lobby for Willoughby's reinstatement. Cadwalader finally gives in. But where's Willoughby? And where's Abigail?

Howard Hawks' Man's Favorite Sport is one of my favorite movies. It's one of the last in a long line of screwball comedies that stretch all the way back tot he advent of talking film. The dialog is fast-paced and witty, and the situations that Willoughby finds himself in are hilarious. Rock Hudson puts in a solid performance as the beleaguered Roger Willoughby, but the true star of the show - in my opinion - is Paula Prentiss, who gives one of the best performances of her career. She does sexy and funny at the same time and pulls off both brilliantly. Most of the rest of the actors are simply caricatures who act as foils for Abigail and Willoughby. If you're looking for a movie that's lighthearted and just plain fun, I highly recommend Man's Favorite Sport. I first saw it forty-one years ago and fell in love with it. It hasn't lost any of its appeal since then. See if you don't agree.

Man's Favorite Sport is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor. Running time is 120 minutes.

The Big Sleep (1946)

"What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell. Me, I was part of the nastiness now. Far more a part of it than Rusty Regan was."

That's how Philip Marlowe sums up all that's gone before in the final pages of Raymond Chandler's novel The Big Sleep. I include it here because the one thing I have always felt that Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep lacked was the internal monologue that narrates the novel. The film ends on an upbeat note, with Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart) and Vivian Rutledge (Lauren Bacall) falling in love. The novel ends with Marlowe walking off by himself, leaving the corrupt Rutledges behind him. The novel is more effective. But 1946 was a different era. People wanted a happy ending - the bad guys all killed or jailed, the hero and heroine walking off together hand in hand, the world spinning in greased grooves once again. It was the effect of the war, I guess. The need for normalcy and happy endings. It's too bad too, because the film suffered on account of the lack of the monologue. Don't get me wrong though. I love this movie. It's one of my favorites. I just wish Hawks and screenwriter William Faulkner hadn't changed the story so much.

In the film, Marlowe is called to the home of dying millionare General Sternwood (Charles Waldron). Sternwood's being blackmailed. His youngest daughter Carmen (Martha Vickers) has been gambling. General Sternwood wants Marlowe to take care of it. The conversation rolls around to Sean Regan, Sternwood's right hand man. Seems he's gone missing. There's talk he ran off with Mona Mars (Peggy Knudsen), the wife of big-time raketeer Eddie Mars (John Ridgely). As Marlowe is leaving, Vivan asks him if her father hired him to find Sean. Soon, Marlowe realizes that a lot of people would like to know what happened to Sean. Later, Marlowe discovers Carmen drugged and half naked with a dead man lying at her feet. Marlowe takes her home and returns to the scene of the crime, only to find that the dead man is gone. At this point, all hell breaks loose. The Sternwood's chaufer is murdered and dumped into the ocean. Eddie Mars seems to be everywhere. Carmen keeps popping up like a Whack-a-Mole. Marlowe finds out that he's being followed by Harry Jones (Elisha Cooke, Jr.). He's trying to help out Agnes (Sonia Darrin) who used to work for the guy who was killed at Carmen's feet. Then a couple of more people get dead. Sound confusing? It is. In fact, the novel is so confusing that Faulkner and co-writer Leigh Bracket couldn't figure out who killed one of the characters. They asked Chandler to tell them who done it, and Chandler himself was unable to point the finger at the culprit. But it all works out in the end. As I stated above - a happy ending for all of the good guys and gals.

Part of what makes The Big Sleep work, in spite of its transgressions, is the incredibly snappy dialogue written by Faulkner and Bracket. There is a lot of reparte' in this film. Consider Marlowe's first exchange with Eddie Mars:

Mars: Convenient the door being open when you didn't have a key.
Marlowe: Yeah, wasn't it? By the way, how did you happen to have one?
Mars: Is it any of your business?
Marlowe: I could make it my business.
Mars: I could make your business mine.
Marlowe: But you wouldn't like it. The pay's too small.
Mars: All right, I own this house. Geiger's my tenant. Now what do you think of me?
Marlowe: You know some nice people.
Mars: I take it as they come.

Or Marlowe's explanation of how the first two murders took place:

"You see, the dead man was Owen Taylor, Sternwood's chauffeur. He went up to Geiger's place 'cause he was sweet on Carmen. He didn't like the kind of games Geiger was playing. He got himself in the back way with a jimmy and he had a gun. And the gun went off as guns will, and Geiger fell down dead."

It's this snappy dialogue that sets this movie apart and really saves it. The film's other saving grace is Humphrey Bogart. Bogart had already established himself as the tough guy with his own code of honor in such films as The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca and The Petrified Forest. He cashes in on that persona here, playing Marlowe as smart and tough, yet sensitive to the needs of others who get caught up in the web of deceit that he finds himself tangled up in. Marlowe, is genuinely concerned for General Sternwood, as well as for Harry Jones and Agnes, two people who don't deserve the hand they get dealt. Hired to solve a minor blackmail case, Marlowe goes on to bring down Eddie Mars and discover how Sean got killed and who killed him, if for no other reason than to give the general some closure.

The Big Sleep is rated G and is filmed in Glorious black and white.

Hatari (1962)

I think I was five years old when I first saw Howard Hawks' Hatari!. It was seared into my brain. Can't help it. That's what happens when you view things during your "formative years." They become a part of the pattern of your life, part of the lens through which you see the entire world for the rest of your life. There's a fancy epistemological term for that, but I can't recall what it is right now, and you probably don't care anyway. But it's tough to be a fan of this movie, because it's so un-PC today. After all, you got a bunch of white men charging around Africa capturing animals and shipping them back to zoos in Europe and America. That rankles a lot of peoples' knickers. I can't tell you how many scathing reviews I've read of Hatari!, one of which used the words "disgusting" and "gross" so many times that I simply stopped counting after a while. And you know what? They were right. It is disgusting to see these people capturing these animals, almost - but not quite - as disgusting as if they'd been shooting them. And then there are those 1950's attitudes toward women, who were all meant to be brainless little housewives. And of course, there is the overriding spectre of colonialization. What are all these white folks doing there anyway? They own the place, that's what. Why do they own it? Because they took it away form it's previous owners. How did they do that? They had bigger guns, duh!

But none of this makes me hate this movie. I still love it. It still retains the same fascination it held for me as a small boy. Because, once you get through all of the that stuff I just mentioned above (not an easy task, I realize) Hatari! is a funny, romantic adventure film. The plot is rather loose. Sean Mercer (John Wayne) and an international group of adventurers spend their days running around the African bush capturing wild animals and selling them to zoos and circuses in Europe and America. At the start of the film, the Indian (Bruce Cabot - the man who rescued Fay Wray from King Kong) is gored by a rhino. At the hospital, a young man named Chips (Gerard Blaine) gives the Indian a blood transfusion and is later hired to replace the Indian while he recovers. Then a female photographer, Anna Maria "Dallas" d'Allasandro (Elsa Martinelli), shows up to photograph the animal captures for the zoo that's buying them. What follows is lots of high-speed chases across the Savannah, evenings spent socializing around the campfire or back at the ranch house, a couple of romances, three baby elephants and a rocket. More than that I won't say; you'll just have to see for yourself.

Hatari! was shot largely on location in: Arusha National Park in what was then Tanganyika (now Tanzania); on Ngongongare Farm, a hunting ranch owned by Hardy Kruger who plays Kurt Muller in the film; and in Nairobi, Kenya. Hawks didn't have a completed script when he began shooting, and it shows. There's not much of a coherent story line. There's the photographer whose there to document the captures; there's the push to collect all of the animals on their shopping list; there's the fear of catching rhinos; and there are a couple of love stories. But all of it just seems loosely joined together. Still it all fits given the setting, which is breathtaking to say the least. One interesting side note is that all of the scenes of the group chasing and capturing the animals were filmed using the real actors. No animal handlers were substitute. When the rhino escaped from them, it was real, and the actors had to recapture the rhino. Hawks felt it would be more realistic that way. Another piece of trivia is that all of the capture scenes had to be dubbed over, because John Wayne kept swearing. I'll just bet he did. All of this goes together, though, to make one fun movie. If you can drop your early 21st century proprieties for a while, you might find that you actually enjoy it.

Hatari! is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor.