There is an argument to be made that, when all is said and done, that Howard Hawks could quite possibly be the greatest film director in the history of American cinema. Perhaps it’s an idea more strongly argued by those who adore Hawks and his unique approach to filmmaking, but it’s difficult to look at his body of work and not at least partially find value in such an assessment. However, like any of the prolific directors that were working around this time, the volume of his directorial output meant that there would be occasional examples of films that were not quite on the same level as his more notable endeavours, such as in the case of Monkey Business, in which the director teams up with the unbeatable trio of I.A.L. Diamond, Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer (there has rarely been a more remarkable writing team assembled on a comedy) to tell the story of an absent-minded professor seeking an elixir of youth, one that he finds after one of the chimpanzees that he studies escapes her cage and crafts a concoction that proves to have the desired effects, and then some, which leads to a series of misadventures as our protagonist and those closest to him scramble to reverse the effects before they get out of hand. A quintessential Hawks film in both structure and style, Monkey Business is very entertaining, but also quite limited in scope, which means that it pales in comparison to a lot of his better-known work, both within the screwball comedy genre and in those where he took a slightly more experimental approach, both of which are at play with this genuinely ambitious but slightly uneven film. By no means a disaster, but rather a film that doesn’t possess quite the same spark that we saw in some of the director’s other more notable offerings, Monkey Business is slightly disappointing, but still a wonderfully eccentric comedy that has a lot of heart and soul, enough to compensate for some of the more peculiar decisions made over the course of an otherwise wonderfully eccentric and engaging film that finds a lot of humour in some unexpected places, and proves to be a lot more entertaining that its reputation may suggest.

One of Hawks’ most remarkable gifts as a filmmaker was his ability to temper the tone and register of his films to be appropriate to the story being told – he could make the most sombre, bleak existenrial drama, followed by the most exuberant, off-the-wall comedy imaginable. In both instances it feels both flawless and essential. Even in some cases there are examples of the director blending both perfectly, such as in the usually eccentric The Big Sleep, which proved to have vague but fascinating comedic traits that don’t necessarily register as part of the story, but contribute to the off-kilter tone that ultimately aided that film in becoming part of the canon. Monkey Business is undeniably one of the director’s films that follows a very strict pattern of humour – a problem is introduced within a group of eccentric characters who try to resolve it, only to find matters complicated and the central conflict only becoming worse, leading to a string of chaotic and hilarious moments that ultimately weave their way to a happy ending. Hawks was one of the pioneers of screwball comedy (in fact, there’s a debate around which film qualifies as the very first entry into that sub-genre, with one of the two primary contenders being the director’s own The Twentieth Century, which pre-dates Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night by a few months), and thus took it quite seriously when it came to evoking the major principles of these films, making sure it adhered to the blueprint he and his contemporaries established years prior. However, Monkey Business is certainly a film that veers closer to the goofy than it does the sentimental, which is par for the course for the majority of screwball comedies, but it does slightly lack the heart that some of the stronger entries into this canon of iconic comedies, many of which hail from the director himself, used as part of their foundation. It certainly is a film with a lot of effort put into its creation, and the script has moments of being superbly well-written, which is a clear sign that Hawks did choose the right team to tell this story, and his direction itself is sharp, precise and very effective, in the way that we would expect from someone who has attained as legendary a reputation over the decades.

Behind the camera, Hawks and the trio of writers were all essential figures in the formation of the screwball comedy, and this is very much reflected in how they approach Monkey Business and its delightfully chaotic worldview. However, this is a genre that is equally as defined by its directors and writers as it is by the actors, so the wisest decision made was to enlist Cary Grant to lead the film – he was a foundational figure in the popularity of the genre from the start, so it only makes sense that he would participate in yet another Hawks endeavour into this wonderfully eccentric style of filmmaking. Grant is terrific, and while the film around him may be slightly less-than-ideal in terms of the execution (for reasons we’ll get to momentarily), his performance is quite strong. The key to understanding what he is doing here resides in the realization that he essentially has two broad comedic archetypes – the suave straight man who is the only sane person in a room full of delightful lunatics, and the wacky, wildly expressive oddball who can’t seem to keep himself out of trouble, even when he puts in a concerted effort to remain sane. The two archetypes come together brilliantly here, and Grant manages to riff off his own style of filmmaking absolutely brilliantly. He’s joined by Ginger Rogers, who occupies the more sensible role, while still having her moments of genuinely hilarious madness, as well as Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest parts, one that proved her exceptional comedic talents. The always-reliable Charles Coburn is also present, and is once again the master of playing these overly patrician characters who grow gradually more unsettled when confronted by the reckless chaos that occurs around them. Monkey Business was marketed as an ensemble piece, with each of the four main actors having fantastic moments of their own, as well as a range of excellent smaller players that occupy the supporting roles. It’s an excellent cast, and their chemistry is strong enough for us to overlook some of the shortcomings that populate this film, perhaps even elevating it beyond a slightly limited perspective. Hawks was known for bringing out the best in his actors, and this film proves to be a perfect exemplification.

Monkey Business is a difficult film to describe, because it is not a failure or even close to a bad film, but there’s something just simply does not connect. This is in spite of the fact that all the elements of a great film are present – it is helmed by an incredible director, written by a trio of the best in the business, and features a cast composed of a quartet of the most iconic stars in Hollywood history as well as a rogue’s gallery of wonderful character actors playing supporting parts. It’s almost impossible to describe why this film feels slightly off-centre without acknowledging how all the right components are not only present but firing on all cylinders, since there is not a single moment where we feel like any’s participation in the film was half-hearted or anything less than fully committed. Ultimately, it probably comes down to the era in which the film was made, as well as the atmosphere it evokes. To circle back to the conversation on screwball comedy, the term has become increasingly more misunderstood, and has been applied to a much broader range of films than perhaps is appropriate, meaning that far too many projects are cited as being screwball comedies when in reality they only take some elements but lack the most important components. It’s also important to note that the genre, while very popular, actually only had quite a short lifespan in its purest form – by the time we reached the 1950s, these films were gradually winding their way out of the popular conversation, being replaced by different forms of comedy that were equally inventive, but definitive of a different style of storytelling. In this regard, it is fair to say that everyone involved wasn’t quite sure what Monkey Business should have been – we still see some solid screwball comedies produced throughout the 1950s and 1960s (which is really when it began to fully dismantle in its original form, before being replaced by wonderful pastiches and tributes) – and it feels like a film that was desperately attempting to play like the zany, off-the-wall masterpieces Hawks and his peers would have made in the 1930s, being an almost nostalgic tribute to the pre-war comedies that were so cherished. Considering the director’s previous comedy was the delightful but slightly cynical I Was a Male War Bride, it almost feels as if Hawks was trying to completely pluck out every bit of world-weariness and present something far more upbeat, but ultimately doesn’t quite manage to make something that meshes with the more subversive style of humour that was gradually becoming more popular at the time.

The general consensus around Monkey Business has always been that it is a very lightweight affair, and not one that encapsulates all the best aspects of Hawks’ or his collaborators – by no means a disaster or anything less than entertaining, it undeniably occupies a slightly lower tier in the director’s career, which seems to be the most appropriate place for it, based on the narrative and how it is executed. As a whole, it is a film with terrific ideas and a lot of solid humour, but ultimately it just does not have the depth or complexity to be able to stand alongside its similarly themed films, coming a couple of years too late and feeling like it is trying too desperately to hold onto the last vestiges of a genre that was gradually changing at a pace that didn’t quite match what this film was intending to do. Taken for what it is, Monkey Business is still very entertaining – it satisfies the craving we often get to see these classic film stars in their element, having fun and running loose for 90 minutes (and in this case, who can resist the idea of Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers playing a pair of infantile eccentrics?), which certain does have its place and makes the film a mostly enjoyable, captivating experience that is not to be taken seriously and will never be considered the peak of Hawks’ work as a director – but it’s his ability to make something that manages to be entertaining without intending to reinvent the genre that makes him such an incredible and influential director, and precisely the reason why he is cited as one of the great filmmakers of his generation. Hilarious and heartfelt, we find a lot of value in a film like Monkey Business, which is a lot more entertaining than we would expect based on its reputation, and while it is by no means perfect, its charm and distinct point of view are enough to hold our attention and keep us thoroughly entertained.