
They certainly don’t make romances like they used to – there’s something so compelling about how love was perceived during the Golden Age of Hollywood that has allowed so many terrific works to become cherished classics of the genre. Ball of Fire is a film that has remained admired and beloved for over half a century, It is seen as one of the defining works of the screwball comedy genre, which was perfected by a small group of directors, most notable among them being Howard Hawks, a filmmaker who worked in a wide range of genres, and nearly always crafted works that would help establish the gold-standard for each particular style of storytelling. Working alongside the screenwriting team of Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett (who are icons of the era in their own right, and certainly don’t need an introduction), the film is a devilishly funny affair that has enough humour and heart to propel it to the very apex of the screwball comedy genre, capturing the spirit of carefully-controlled chaos like few others could. It’s a challenging, unconventional and extraordinarily charming film that reminds us of the virtue of a story well, and the importance of giving the audience something memorable, even if it is beyond predictable. Ball of Fire remains one of the most exceptionally endearing comedies of the 1940s (a decade that contained many of the greatest entries into the genre in history), so for this to be seen as one of the absolute standouts can easily be attributed to its wit, charm and candour, the likes of which have grown increasingly rare, and were normally contained to this quaint and endearing romantic comedy that may not have been wholly original in concept or execution, but had enough merit to overcome all shortcomings to be nothing less than spellbinding.
Screwball comedies are a genre that is easy to recognize, but quite difficult to describe in a way that encapsulates everything they represent, as well as the precise artistry required to make them effective. It’s a genre that is almost impossible to put into coherent words, let alone do so in a way that is straightforward and meaningful. However, there have been multiple attempts to do just that – when he was conceiving of his version of the screwball comedy many decades later, Peter Bogdanovich succinctly described the entire genre as being defined by “daffy girl, square professor, everything works out all right” – and it’s certainly not far-fetched to imagine this was one of the films that came to mind when considering such a scenario. Ball of Fire is one of the purest distillations of these themes, as this is the primary foundation on which the entire film is built. Considering there were filmmakers several decades later still trying to recapture the spirit of the genre (and we still see attempts in the contemporary cinematic landscape) points to the impact these films had on the collective culture. Ball of Fire is an acclaimed film, but one that is slightly less obvious than the likes of Bringing Up Baby and The Philadelphia Story in terms of being seen as synonymous with the genre – it is widely celebrated, but not quite on the level of other films that were made in its proximity, and while this sounds like a dismissal of its importance or impact, it is a resounding merit, since this is the kind of film that takes you by surprise. Hawks sets up a simple premise, one that he and everyone involved knew would easily allure a wide range of viewers, and then gradually reveals more interesting elements, ones that may not be revolutionary, but are still exciting and unique on their own, and work well in the context of the film as a whole, which is aiming to occur at the perfect intersection of social satire and romantic comedy, two genres that rarely work better together than they did in this film.
In most cases, the majority of the attention given to Ball of Fire is directed at the two stars, both of whom were doing exceptional work. It was the second pairing of Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck as romantic leads, and it is certainly amongst their most iconic roles, showcasing both their inherent charisma and ability to stretch themselves beyond archetypal roles. Cooper is not someone we normally associate with playing socially awkward intellectuals, particularly because he was slightly more limited as an actor than some of his contemporaries, and normally thrived when playing more commonplace characters, rather than someone who we are supposed to believe is some immensely intelligent academic, which is why he found success playing valiant everyman heroes in films like Sergeant York and High Noon, which are decisively seen as some of his better work. There are some moments in his performance in Ball of Fire which come across as slightly forced (one has to wonder where Cary Grant and James Stewart were busy), but for the most part, he manages to convincingly play the part, especially in the portions where the character is loosened from the shackles of overt academia and can embrace the romantic side of the story. Stanwyck, on the other hand, was in her element, playing the wise-cracking nightclub singer who seems like a vapid, airheaded mob moll at first but turns out to be a more shrewd, cunning young woman who proves to be a formidable opponent for the academics with whom she spends a considerable amount of time. Stanwyck is terrific and embodies the charisma and complexity the character desperately needed to help the film be a resounding success. The chemistry between the two leads is incredible, and they carry the film from a charming romance to one of the most defining comedies of this era.
Interestingly, the academic angle of Ball of Fire is not entirely tenuous. Many would expect the plot centring on the relationship between a stuffy professor and a street-smart nightclub singer would just be a surface-level premise aimed to emphasize the supposed tenet that opposites attract – but there’s a lot of interesting work simmering beneath the surface of this film that goes beyond simply the scenario where two wildly different individuals find themselves drawn together, almost by the sheer will of fate, since they’d have not likely have had their paths intersecting without a chance encounter that benefitted both of them in different ways. Hawks was an exceptionally smart filmmaker, and neither Wilder nor Brackett were known for cheap scenarios. As a result, you can see the work being done in terms of making sure there was a significant amount of depth peppered throughout this film, which is far more than just a mindless romance. Perhaps it’s not appropriate to downplay the romantic elements (after all, this is a film about two people falling in love), but even if we don’t subscribe to the concept of the fairytale romance – even more interesting considering how Wilder and Brackett supposedly conceived of this film as a modern retelling of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves – there’s a lot of value in how it explores the two wildly divergent worlds that these characters inhabit, enough to make it as much a stark and insightful social satire as it is a hopelessly romantic screwball comedy, the two being unexpectedly brilliant when occurring in communion with one another. Only someone like Hawks could create something so unexpectedly complex without it feeling prosaic or too excessive, and credit must be given to the screenwriters, who had the unenviable task of finding common ground between the two extremes, turning that ambigious space into the stage for this deliriously funny and utterly delightful to take place.
Ball of Fire is a film that has many fascinating ideas, as well as the intelligence and efficiency to explore every one of them, without becoming too overwrought or heavy-handed in its commentary. The film is primarily driven by a sense of duality – the original title of the film (and which it is often called in certain markets) is The Professor and the Burlesque Queen, which gives a relatively clear image of the central concept being explored throughout the film. There are many intriguing concepts embedded deep within the story, and we become invested in the story of these two individuals, who may be opposites but are proven to be the perfect match for one another. There isn’t much suspense, since we know that these characters are ultimately going to get their happy ending (so much that Hawks had to elongate the third act to include a lengthy sub-plot focused on several of the peripheral characters, just to fill up space and create some degree of suspense), so it’s just a matter of watching their various misadventures while leaping around the fact that they are gradually falling in love. Deeply entertaining and oddly thought-provoking, Ball of Fire is an absolute marvel of a film, a delightful and complex voyage into the heart of a growing relationship, and one of the greatest screwball comedies of its era, which is quite an achievement considering how several films produced during this period remain amongst the most cherished and admired in history, which only proves what a masterful and effective film Hawks made with Ball of Fire, a very special production that gives us a truly terrific experience.