'You've got an old fashioned idea divorce is something that lasts forever, 'til death do us part.' Why divorce doesn't mean anything nowadays, Hildy, just a few words mumbled over you by a judge.’
Walter Burns, ‘His Girl Friday’

'His Girl Friday' is a magnificent 1940 screwball comedy that takes satirical pops at conventional family life, corrupt city leadership and cynical journalism.

The film co-stars Cary Grant as Walter Burns, the hard-boiled editor of the Morning Post, and Rosalind Russell as Hildy Johnson, Walter's ex-wife and the Post’s star reporter. 

In the play on which the movie was based (‘The Front Page’ by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur) the two lead roles were male. But after hearing his female secretary read the part of Hildy in rehearsal, director Howard Hawks decided that the character should be played by a woman. The switch, with appropriate re-writes, added a compelling extra dimension.

Walter: Sorta wish you hadn't done that, Hildy.
Hildy : Done what?
Walter: Divorced me. Makes a fella lose all faith in himself... Almost gives him a feeling he wasn't wanted.

The film is stylish, funny and quick-paced. Hawks was determined to break the record for the fastest film dialogue: the delivery of the lines has been measured at 240 words a minute, compared with a norm of 140. He encouraged his actors to be spontaneous, to talk over each other, to make ‘in’ jokes and sarcastic asides. Multiple microphones were employed rather than the usual single boom mike, so that every word could be captured, and a sound technician had to switch from mike to mike on cue. Concerned that Grant had been allocated better lines, Russell hired an advertising copywriter to script her ‘ad libs.’

The movie begins with Hildy informing Walter that she is engaged to be re-married. She plans to pack in her career as a journalist and settle down to a quiet life in Albany with a dependable insurance man. 

Hildy: He's kind and he's sweet and he's considerate. He wants a home and children.
Walter: Sounds more like a guy I ought to marry.

Walter will have none of it and is determined to win Hildy back.

Walter: I'd know you anytime...Any place...
Hildy: Anywhere. Aw, you're repeating yourself, Walter. That's the speech you made the night you proposed.
Walter: Yes, I notice you still remember.
Hildy: Of course, I remember it. If I didn't remember it, I wouldn't have divorced you.

Walter is particularly concerned about losing his star reporter. Her departure would, he says, make her 'a traitor to journalism.' Hildy is not convinced.

'A journalist? Now, what does that mean? Peeking through keyholes, chasing after fire engines, waking people up in the middle of the night and asking them if Hitler's gonna start another war, stealing pictures off old ladies? I know all about reporters, Walter. A lot of daffy buttinskies runnin' around without a nickel in their pocket. And for what? So a million hired girls and motorman's wives will know what's going on?’

Walter determines to sabotage Hildy’s plans, tempting her to cover one last story: the execution of Earl Williams, a bashful bookkeeper convicted of murdering a policeman. Hildy initially resists the offer.

'I wouldn't cover the burning of Rome for you if they were just lighting it up.’

Walter employs all manner of deceit and trickery to persuade Hildy to take the brief. Eventually she agrees.

The action shifts to the pressroom of the criminal court, where we meet the veteran journalists: gum chewing, poker playing, cigar smoking, visor wearing. They are to a man cynical and unprincipled.

Hildy bribes the warden of the jail to let her interview Williams in his cell. Having written an eloquent and sympathetic piece in double-quick time, she bids farewell to her former colleagues and competitors.

'And that my friends is my farewell to the newspaper game! I'm going to be a woman; not a news-getting machine. I'm gonna have babies and take care of them and give them cod liver oil and watch their teeth grow and - and, oh dear, if I ever see one of them look at a newspaper again, I'm going to brain ‘em!’

However, at this point Williams escapes, and with everyone out searching the city for him, the convict presents himself to Hildy in the pressroom. Sensing the possibility of a scoop, she hides Williams in a roll-top desk. She is now torn between securing her story and leaving with her fiancé on the train to Albany. Walter, who in pursuit of his objective has had Hildy’s fiancé arrested and her future mother-in-law abducted, arrives to press his case.

'There are 365 days in a year one can get mad. How many times have you got a murderer locked up in a desk? Once in a lifetime! Hildy, you got the whole city by the seat of the pants... This isn't just a story you're covering - it's a revolution. This is the greatest yarn in journalism since Livingstone discovered Stanley.’

In the end Hildy decides to stay on at the Post and to remarry Walter. But this is not a conventional romantic ending. There are no hugs and kisses. There is no emotional embrace. One senses that she is not really choosing Walter. She is choosing the work she excels at and the career she loves; a difficult job over an easy life.

‘His Girl Friday’ portrays journalism as unscrupulous and underhand; as arduous and poorly paid. But ultimately it suggests that it is a worthwhile profession. It is challenging and rewarding, intellectually compelling and socially important. It is a proper job done by real people.

'You can get married all you want, Hildy, but you can't quit the newspaper business...I know you, Hildy. I know what quitting would mean to you!... It would kill ya!’

We all have cause to complain about work: about our pay and conditions; about long hours and short tempers; about cantankerous Clients, eccentric colleagues and egotistical bosses. We may perhaps get offers of more lucrative positions in less arduous sectors. But ‘His Girl Friday’ prompts us to ask ourselves some fundamental questions: Do I like my colleagues and my work culture? Am I good at this? Am I learning and being challenged? Am I realising my potential? Am I doing something worthwhile?  Do I really love my job?

'Look at the pictures taken by the cameras, they cannot lie.
The truth is in what you see, not what you read.
Little men tapping things out, points of view.
Remember their views are not the gospel truth.
Don't believe it all.
Find out for yourself.
Check before you spread
News of the world.’
The Jam, ’News of the World’ (B Foxton)

No. 284