There have been countless attempts to adapt  Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s wonderful play The Front Page into every conceivable medium, and they have all achieved varying degrees of success. Everyone from Billy Wilder to Kathleen Turner had their sights set on luxuriating in the hilarious and irreverent world that the playwrights had created, which is a credit to what Howard Hawks referred to as the finest dialogue that had ever been written, a sentiment that has been repeated countless times before and is evident by the sheer number of versions of this story that exist. He was so passionate about this play that he worked laboriously to make his own version, which became My Girl Friday, changing one of the characters to female and constructing it as a screwball comedy, a genre that Hawks himself helped define years earlier with the masterful Bringing Up Baby. The result is one of the true classics of the genre, a film that has stood the test of time and remains as relevant and entertaining today as it did many decades ago, only growing in estimation the more contemporary audiences start to realize how special and engaging these kinds of films were. His Girl Friday stands as one of the best examples of simple but effective storytelling, never needing to utilize anything more than what was necessary to get this story across in a compelling and entertaining manner. Years later, the film is an endearing puzzle of a story, a charming blend of outrageous comedy and charming romance, which has always been at the heart of the screwball genre, and which Hawks worked laboriously to develop into more than just mildly endearing works of escapism, but fervent, compelling works of art that stand the test of time and entertain us long after their release, and few examples of this are more potent than this film, which takes the original play and develops it into quite possibly the definitive version, a remarkable feat for such a simple but effective film.

The difference between a great screwball comedy and one that carries historical significance is the extent to which it can be considered timeless. Audiences embrace these early comedies much more openly and with higher regard than they do many recent films, which is a testament to their biting humour, refreshing honesty and rapid-fire pace, which is always appreciated when it comes to a solid piece of humour. A sign of excellent writing is when a film can convey a story that is both funny and insightful without needing any twists and turns, to the point where limiting it to a particular space (whether physical or temporal) can create the illusion that it is expansive and sprawling, a small segment of a much larger world lingering just out of frame. His Girl Friday is set almost entirely on a single day (or at least we are led to believe this is the general framework in which the story transpires), and with the exception of a couple of scenes set in other locations, takes place in a single room – but yet it all feels so compelling, and never seems to be anything less than a well-crafted satire that has its themes in order, and has enough intelligence and wit to effectively adapt the play, making the right changes in terms of dialogue, which was mainly to justify the decision to change the main character to female, which only came about as a whim if the production history is to be believed, but a choice that was nothing short of worthwhile if we assess the final product, it manages to become an effervescent delight, a film that has depth where it matters, but mainly moves along at a quickfire pace, being able to find joyful moments in some of the more off-kilter areas, and just generally being a tremendously entertaining triumph that feels like every bit of our time spent with these characters is earned and worthwhile.

Another aspect of His Girl Friday that bears a lot of relevance is the fact that this is a film essentially about the media – and while the specific details may be profoundly different (since we consume the news very differently today as opposed to a few decades ago), the general purpose of the story has always remained the same, which is primarily to show the excessive greed and moral corruption of the journalism industry, albeit in a form that is funny, insightful and oddly heartwarming. The original play was a scathing satire that took no prisoners, which is exceptionally entertaining in its own way – but considering how he was known for slightly more softhearted approaches to his stories (albeit never in a way that suggests that he was unnecessarily sentimental), Hawks’ approach was one that was far more unique in how it presented these ideas. Structuring it as a screwball comedy (rather than a pitch-black dark comedy, which is how we normally find this story being adapted), the plot becomes even more complex, since it adds on an element of romance to an already fast-paced plot, which itself brings an entirely different perspective to the material, carefully curated by Hawks, whose steadfast commitment to this story manifests in surprising and intriguing ways, and pulled together by the perfect collision of style and substance, which is the precise quality that the film uses to make this much deeper than conventional media satires. It’s also the reason His Girl Friday has remained so popular – whether in the 1940s or 2020s, we all know how crooked and manipulative the media can be, and this story only emphasizes how it is an industry fueled by malignant opportunists whose only intentions are to be the first to report on the biggest news story, and how one’s success is measured in speed and numbers, rather than the quality of work – few aspects of life remain the same, but the twisted nature of journalism has never changed, and has only gotten more elaborate as time has progressed, making this a much deeper and more interesting satire.

A screwball comedy without great performances at its centre is only partially effective, since this is a genre built on a symbiotic relationship between its actors and the script they’re given to interpret. This is the reason why many of the greatest entries into the genre draw from a familiar pool of actors, since it isn’t easy to keep up with the pace and nuances of these films. His Girl Friday is built on the dynamic between Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell, both of whom were amongst the finest actors to ever work in the medium, comedic or otherwise. One of the great misconceptions about this film is that it is a two-hander, which is not necessarily the case – as hilarious and charming as Grant is, he’s surprisingly not even in the film that much, appearing only in the first and third acts, with the true star of the film being Russell, who gives possibly her best performance as the eccentric Hildy Johnson, one of the best journalists in the business for a reason. Acting in a screwball comedy is akin to riding a wave – either you go with the flow or you become enveloped by the strength of the surrounding material, and few were ever better at mastering the art of giving an effective performance than Russell, who was the consummate professional, and someone who never did anything less than the very best when it came to her work, which was drawn from a place of both profound compassion and the most sincere, dedicated committed to the roles, which merge with her inherent comedic talents and ability to play brassy women who are never submissive, makes this one of the very best performances of the era, and one that is almost entirely definitive of the genre. You simply cannot talk about screwball comedies without envisioning Russell in her iconic hats, delivering a range of hilarious one-liners that only someone fully in command of their craft could do with such conviction – and Grant was there, pleasantly complementing her and proving to be a superb actor, even with the most limited material, which seemed to be entirely by design.

There’s a certain feeling you get when watching a screwball comedy, or at least one that understands the very precise art of putting together such a story. The dialogue flows with a rapid-fire intensity that draws us in and places us alongside these characters as they navigate whatever story is being told, and the actors rise to the occasion to portray these complex, intricately-woven individuals that are far more interesting than archetypes we see in less-successful comedies. More than anything else, they provide a sensation of security – not in the way we’d expect, but rather in the fact that every moment feels like it was carefully placed where it was most appropriate, working laboriously to tell a particular story while never creating the illusion that what we are seeing is anything less than thoroughly entertaining. It takes a lot of work to make something that appears this seamless, but if anyone was going to be considered a master of the craft, Hawks is certainly one of them. His career was diverse and he directed just about any kind of film that one could imagine – so his ability to throw together a few disparate ideas, turning them into this masterful, complex and hilariously funny work of carefully curated chaos is hardly surprising. As one of the great screwball comedies of its era, His Girl Friday remains as compelling and invigorating today as it did in 1940, and just proves how well-constructed humour ages incredibly well and can have astonishing impact if done correctly, which has always been associated with this film and its place in the genre.