If you have been reading here for a while, you will undoubtedly know about my fondness for The Front Page, the magnificent play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur which is perhaps the finest piece of comedic theatre to come out of the first half of the 20th century, and like any well-received production, it wasn’t long until it was brought to the screen. Over the past year, we have discussed the various adaptations, ranging from Lewis Milestone’s 1931 version that was produced right in the aftermath of the theatrical sensation, to Howard Hawks’ iconic His Girl Friday, perhaps the definitive version despite considerable changes, to the ill-fated update featuring Kathleen Turner and Burt Reynolds, who spent most of the time in Switching Channels trying to figure out how to get along, which mirrored their on-set struggles. Now we come to the end of this project, which has brought us right to the centre of this run of adaptations with one of the more celebrated versions. Despite being well-received and adored by audiences, Billy Wilder was notoriously critical of his adaptation of The Front Page, which he felt was not necessarily deserving of a remake (despite the only pure version of this story that existed on screen was the first adaptation), but we can easily chalk this up to his well-documented humility, since his version of this play is terrific, and is often considered his last true masterpiece, with the two films he made after this (Fedora and Buddy Buddy) being more aligned with cult classics appreciated by a smaller group of devotees, rather than major successes in their own right. The jury is still out on whether this can stand alongside the director’s greatest works, or if it is a lesser effort, but it seems almost impossible to not be put under the bewitching spell of Wilder’s masterful direction, which was as fresh and insightful as ever, especially when we consider just how far he was willing to go to develop this material through his unique vision. Whether or not this becomes the definitive version of this film remains to be seen, but in terms of pure entertainment, it is difficult to beat this film or the incredible artists involved in its creation.

Looking at The Front Page, we are immediately struck with a very simple question – what is it that makes this material so compelling? We can discuss its satirical underpinnings, and how it captures a very specific moment in American culture, which was made all the more impressive by the way it never flinched from exposing the corruption and misbehaviour of even the most trusted of public figures and elected officials. Hecht and MacArthur had many terrific ideas, and the perspective they offered in this play was invaluable, showing a different side of something supposedly as respected as the media. If we focus on the actual components that went into the creation of The Front Page, we see a remarkably well-written text that features brilliantly eccentric characters, rapid-fire dialogue and broad concepts that are both timely and timeless in equal measure, as well as the opportunity to cast a wide range of actors, all of whom would be eager to work on such an adaptation, since it is well-regarded enough to be considered a rite of passage, but not too dense that it becomes too insurmountable a challenge. All of these qualities are tailor-made for Wilder, so the only surprising aspect of this adaptation was that it took him several decades to even conceive of the idea of remaking this film, which is tied to his hesitance towards reconfiguring old works, especially in a way as directly as this film. This story panders to nearly every one of Wilder’s artistic sensibilities, almost to the point where it feels like he is simply going through the motions when directing this film – this isn’t a criticism or even a slight against his talents, but rather a firm reminder of his status as someone to whom directing such stories came quite easily, this film being yet another marvellously entertaining comedy from someone who essentially set the foundation for modern cinematic humour, at least in his capacity as a disciple of the likes of Ernst Lubitsch and Preston Sturges, whose spectres linger quite heavily over this film in quite surprising ways.

This adaptation of The Front Page features the reunion between Wilder and two of his finest collaborators, Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, the trio having previously collaborated on The Fortune Cookie nearly a decade previously (the actors had amassed several collaborations in the interim, but it was Wilder that first had the intelligent idea of putting them together on screen), delivering another pitch-black satire with a profoundly deep meaning. The brilliance of this play is that the roles are easily reconfigured to whoever is playing the parts – they are adapted to the actor at the helm, rather than the other way around. This is important because it allows us to look at each adaptation differently, since even when the characters go through the same arc, they all have different personalities and demeanours, developed by the actors who are free to interpret them as they see most appropriate, granted their choices make sense with the characters. Lemmon and Matthau are not doing revolutionary work, but this doesn’t mean that they are unquestionably terrific in their roles. They are even playing slightly against type in comparison to their previous collaborations – while both characters are objectively unethical, it is Lemmon who is the more volatile, eccentric part of the duo, while Matthau is more strait-laced and grounded. Their chemistry is incredible, and the only downside of Wilder choosing to remain as faithful to the original text of The Front Page as possible was that Matthau’s character exits the film for almost the entire second act, being the focus in the first and paired about equally with Lemmon in the third. They deliver tremendously funny performances and lead a cast that includes memorable work by the likes of Carol Burnett (an absolute scene-stealer who is a force to be reckoned with, despite only having a few scenes), Charles Durning, Vincent Gardenia and a very early performance from the wonderful Susan Sarandon. A film like The Front Page is a great opportunity to cast a diverse range of actors, and Wilder attracts quite an impressive ensemble to explore this world alongside him.

Looking slightly deeper, we find that The Front Page is a film with many terrific ideas, and how they are explored is what gives the story such a distinct sense of humour as well as a more complex meaning. As we mentioned previously, the appeal of this story isn’t only that it is outrageously funny and wildly entertaining, but also because it offers a very distinct view of the media, something that seems to be parodic in the context of this story but is oddly quite prescient in ways that could be quite surprising to those who aren’t expecting a story that goes to such depths. This version leans into the more sordid side of the journalism industry than any others – there is the distinctive polish we get from a Wilder film, but it is accompanied by a layer of grit, with the director making one of his more grotesque comedies, one that employs a macabre sense of humour to tell the story, much more than the previous versions, which often relied on the more quirky humour. Here we are presented with a darker and more insidious perspective of the media, who we would like to believe are objective arbiters of the truth, people who deliver the facts in as straightforward a manner as possible. This film conveys the very clear message that ethical journalism is not only unlikely, but almost an absurd concept, as it is a business like any other, and where the commodity isn’t the truth (which has very little commercial value), but the appeal a particular publication has for readers. This adaptation of The Front Page, more than any other, leans into this idea and develops on these concepts with more precision than the other versions, which are objectively more passive in the harsh satirical jabs present in the original production, and which Wilder makes sure to not only include in his version, but make the general focus of the story, a smart decision that situates this apart from all the other adaptations.

The Front Page is perhaps the finest theatrical comedy of the 20th century, or at least one of the most impactful, because not only is it hilariously funny and oddly heartfelt, but it is also a biting satire that dared to aim the media at a time when such attacks were viewed as tacky and inelegant, despite their relevance and the fact that they were usually solid bits of prognostication in most instances. Wilder saw the potential in the story, enough to forego his self-imposed refusal to work on a remake, and even if his feelings about the film veer towards the negative, it’s difficult to ignore the impact made by his perspective on the material, which is concise and compelling in a way that we have come to expect from Wilder. It has all the elements that make his work so remarkable – an acerbic wit (which is arguably more a credit to Hecht and MacArthur, since their play is almost replicated verbatim in this film), a fantastic set of performances by a terrific cast that was eager to work with Wilder, whether they had collaborated with him previously or were making their debut under his guidance, and a fluid sense of direction that ties everything together in meaningful, compelling ways. The Front Page is a terrific film, a charming and well-constructed comedy with a jagged edge, and even if we have seen this story in other forms before, whether as direct adaptations or simply through other writers using it as a source of inspiration, it is still a terrific, meaningful film with a lot of humour and a sense of rebelliousness that comes from a director who may have been working for decades, but was unquestionably still in his prime, enough to turn this older text into a dynamic, compelling and deeply funny film.