What do you think?
Rate this book
Romantic Comedy in Hollywood: From Lubitsch to Sturges
In 1934 four movies—It Happened One Night, Twentieth Century, The Thin Man, and The Gay Divorcee—ushered in the golden age of the Hollywood romantic ("screwball") comedy. Slangy, playful, and "powerfully, glamorously in love with love," the films that followed were unique in their combination of swank and slapstick. Here are the directors—Lubitsch (Trouble in Paradise), Capra (It Happened One Night), Hawks (Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday), McCarey (The Awful Truth), La Cava (My Man Godfrey, Stage Door), Sturges (The Lady Eve, The Palm Beach Story, The Miracle at Morgan's Creek)—and their stars—Carole Lombard, Irene Dunne, Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, Clark Gable, Barbara Stanwyck, William Powell, Myrna Loy, among others—all described and analyzed in one comprehensive and delightful volume.
734 pages, Paperback
First published December 12, 1987
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
July 16, 2021
I’ve dreaded writing this review because, as much as I wanted to enjoy James Harvey’s Romantic Comedy in Hollywood: From Lubitsch to Sturges, it just didn’t click for me for a variety of reasons.
I mainly had issues with the author’s style and tone, as well as content and structure choices. 1930s romantic comedies often feel as light as air; I found Harvey’s writing to be extremely dense. I felt like he was writing so much, without really saying anything at all. I also found his tone to be off-putting at times, with presumptions about universal perceptions of films’ quality (or more often, lack thereof). A film might be dismissed as "almost unwatchable," as though he cannot fathom that anyone could actually enjoy it. I also got a distinct impression of disdain for Capra films and even the viewers (like myself) who enjoy them.
As for structure, Harvey begins the book by stating that he is going to talk about screwball comedies. Despite this, the closest we get to a working definition of screwball comedy comes well after discussions of key films (almost 300 pages into the book), in a chapter titled “Leading Men of Screwball.” This same chapter starts with several pages on Clark Gable, before defining screwball, delineating differences between the movie studios (not specifically relating to romantic comedies), and finally briefly describing the other actors.
An earlier definition of screwball comedy would have been helpful because Harvey has a narrow view of what should be included in the genre, (again) often subject to his perceptions of quality. He even admits that his idea of screwball is at odds with some of the filmmakers who were working in the genre in the 1930s. From my experience reading about and watching screwball comedies, it is clear that this isn’t a monolithic genre. Different filmmakers and viewers might focus on different themes in the films, but it doesn’t make other films in the category any less screwball. Content and structure choices like these left me feeling like something was missing from a definitive review of the genre.
As the title suggests, Harvey spends a substantial amount of time discussing the work of Ernst Lubitsch and Preston Sturges. The Lubitsch material fell flat for me because, admittedly, I’m much less familiar with his work. It’s possible that I just wasn’t the right audience for the book and that an actual Lubitsch enthusiast would really enjoy this. On the flip side, the book picked up for me when Harvey got around to Preston Sturges’ work. I’m more familiar with his movies, but also not so familiar as to be put off by the author’s strong opinions (as I was in the chapter on Capra). Pauline Kael’s review, published on the back cover of the paperback edition, praises Harvey’s ability to verbalize the things you unconsciously take in while watching a movie. I really got a sense for that in the Sturges chapters, while also reading about some themes I hadn’t noticed in his work previously.
While this book didn’t click for me overall, I would like to point out a few positive features. There is a great chapter on the often underappreciated Irene Dunne, as well as a transcript from an interview with her. Harvey performs analysis of the mise en scène in many of the films he discusses and, while I might not always agree with his conclusions, he gets at details I might have missed before or provides a new way of looking at scenes. The best thing any piece of writing on film can do is to encourage readers to take a closer look at the films they've already seen and check out those they haven't. At the very least, this book succeeded in doing that for me.
I mainly had issues with the author’s style and tone, as well as content and structure choices. 1930s romantic comedies often feel as light as air; I found Harvey’s writing to be extremely dense. I felt like he was writing so much, without really saying anything at all. I also found his tone to be off-putting at times, with presumptions about universal perceptions of films’ quality (or more often, lack thereof). A film might be dismissed as "almost unwatchable," as though he cannot fathom that anyone could actually enjoy it. I also got a distinct impression of disdain for Capra films and even the viewers (like myself) who enjoy them.
As for structure, Harvey begins the book by stating that he is going to talk about screwball comedies. Despite this, the closest we get to a working definition of screwball comedy comes well after discussions of key films (almost 300 pages into the book), in a chapter titled “Leading Men of Screwball.” This same chapter starts with several pages on Clark Gable, before defining screwball, delineating differences between the movie studios (not specifically relating to romantic comedies), and finally briefly describing the other actors.
An earlier definition of screwball comedy would have been helpful because Harvey has a narrow view of what should be included in the genre, (again) often subject to his perceptions of quality. He even admits that his idea of screwball is at odds with some of the filmmakers who were working in the genre in the 1930s. From my experience reading about and watching screwball comedies, it is clear that this isn’t a monolithic genre. Different filmmakers and viewers might focus on different themes in the films, but it doesn’t make other films in the category any less screwball. Content and structure choices like these left me feeling like something was missing from a definitive review of the genre.
As the title suggests, Harvey spends a substantial amount of time discussing the work of Ernst Lubitsch and Preston Sturges. The Lubitsch material fell flat for me because, admittedly, I’m much less familiar with his work. It’s possible that I just wasn’t the right audience for the book and that an actual Lubitsch enthusiast would really enjoy this. On the flip side, the book picked up for me when Harvey got around to Preston Sturges’ work. I’m more familiar with his movies, but also not so familiar as to be put off by the author’s strong opinions (as I was in the chapter on Capra). Pauline Kael’s review, published on the back cover of the paperback edition, praises Harvey’s ability to verbalize the things you unconsciously take in while watching a movie. I really got a sense for that in the Sturges chapters, while also reading about some themes I hadn’t noticed in his work previously.
While this book didn’t click for me overall, I would like to point out a few positive features. There is a great chapter on the often underappreciated Irene Dunne, as well as a transcript from an interview with her. Harvey performs analysis of the mise en scène in many of the films he discusses and, while I might not always agree with his conclusions, he gets at details I might have missed before or provides a new way of looking at scenes. The best thing any piece of writing on film can do is to encourage readers to take a closer look at the films they've already seen and check out those they haven't. At the very least, this book succeeded in doing that for me.
March 9, 2014
This is a brilliantly-written book - I fizzled out on reading it two years ago, but have now gone back to it after seeing a lot more movies in the meantime. I'm still finding it a very slow book to read because I keep having to track down the films he discusses, but it is wonderful to have by my side as I do so.
May 23, 2008
Harvey has lots of astute and funny things to say about the golden age of screwball comedy, and about its most important directors and actors.
Here he captures part of the charm of one of my all-time favorite movies, His Girl Friday:
"Hawks [Howard Hawks, the film's director] has turned the editor's role into a kind of extension and expression of Grant's own extrahuman quality, that seeming detachment from ordinary life and feelings, that standing-apart quality that marks Grant more than almost any other major star. Walter Burns may not be as intelligent or incisive as some Grant heroes are -- he is a vulgarian, and sometimes . . . the joke is on him ('Leave the rooster story alone, that's human interest!'). But he is still the romantic hero, tough newspaperman version. And where earlier screwball comedies tend to tone down this hero's more disreputable side, to suit him for the romance . . . Hawks and Grant do just the opposite. Take, for example, Grant's ineffable way of responding to the news of an employee's illness, a reporter he was particularly depending on. 'Where is Duffy?' he shouts into the phone. 'Diabetes!' he shouts even louder, making it sound not only loathsome but obscene. 'I should know better,' he says, hanging up, flinging his arms wide and dancing with impatience, 'than to hire anybody with a disease!' And this apparent inhumanity isn't . . . a cover for a deeper, more genuine humanity underneath. This Grant hero is just as outrageous as he seems, and remains so to the end. It's true he loves Hildy (it's almost surprising how convincing that is) and that he fights the crooked mayor and sheriff; but in every other respect he is unregenerate. Not only is he going through the door first in the last shot of the film, but Hildy is carrying the suitcase -- in her arms . . .
That unregenerate quality is at the heart of this movie . . . The Hawks version is even clearer and less apologetic about its own subversive instincts -- and the joy that goes with them. Grant's outrageousness is so wonderfully elated. That's one reason we don't squirm -- just the opposite, in fact -- to see Hildy scuttling out the door after him at the end . . . She's following the Wizard, so who cares if she has to carry the bags? Where cynicism and romanticism may seem to go together in other movies, for Hawks they are almost the same thing: the cynicism is the romanticism. Above all, it's the deliverance from cant: the absolute refusal, in the fantasy of this comedy, ever to talk shit again."
Here he captures part of the charm of one of my all-time favorite movies, His Girl Friday:
"Hawks [Howard Hawks, the film's director] has turned the editor's role into a kind of extension and expression of Grant's own extrahuman quality, that seeming detachment from ordinary life and feelings, that standing-apart quality that marks Grant more than almost any other major star. Walter Burns may not be as intelligent or incisive as some Grant heroes are -- he is a vulgarian, and sometimes . . . the joke is on him ('Leave the rooster story alone, that's human interest!'). But he is still the romantic hero, tough newspaperman version. And where earlier screwball comedies tend to tone down this hero's more disreputable side, to suit him for the romance . . . Hawks and Grant do just the opposite. Take, for example, Grant's ineffable way of responding to the news of an employee's illness, a reporter he was particularly depending on. 'Where is Duffy?' he shouts into the phone. 'Diabetes!' he shouts even louder, making it sound not only loathsome but obscene. 'I should know better,' he says, hanging up, flinging his arms wide and dancing with impatience, 'than to hire anybody with a disease!' And this apparent inhumanity isn't . . . a cover for a deeper, more genuine humanity underneath. This Grant hero is just as outrageous as he seems, and remains so to the end. It's true he loves Hildy (it's almost surprising how convincing that is) and that he fights the crooked mayor and sheriff; but in every other respect he is unregenerate. Not only is he going through the door first in the last shot of the film, but Hildy is carrying the suitcase -- in her arms . . .
That unregenerate quality is at the heart of this movie . . . The Hawks version is even clearer and less apologetic about its own subversive instincts -- and the joy that goes with them. Grant's outrageousness is so wonderfully elated. That's one reason we don't squirm -- just the opposite, in fact -- to see Hildy scuttling out the door after him at the end . . . She's following the Wizard, so who cares if she has to carry the bags? Where cynicism and romanticism may seem to go together in other movies, for Hawks they are almost the same thing: the cynicism is the romanticism. Above all, it's the deliverance from cant: the absolute refusal, in the fantasy of this comedy, ever to talk shit again."
April 27, 2023
This is probably my favorite book of the 1980s.
Don't care if this book ever comes out in an Ebook version because I bought this when it first came out in HC. That's rare behavior for me even now. It will remain a much-loved book in my library for the rest of my life.
Harvey loves these movies, and it shows in his writing. He also is very detail-oriented, which I love.
Don't care if this book ever comes out in an Ebook version because I bought this when it first came out in HC. That's rare behavior for me even now. It will remain a much-loved book in my library for the rest of my life.
Harvey loves these movies, and it shows in his writing. He also is very detail-oriented, which I love.
June 13, 2019
Can't recommend this highly enough.
March 21, 2013
not only one of the absolutely essential books on cinema, but one of the most enjoyable. James Harvey elevates film analysis & criticism to its highest level, blending an absurdly thorough knowledge of the material w/historical context, behind the scenes info, & his own thoughts/conclusions. tho I don't always agree w/him, this is the film book I return to again & again (along w/the very different but equally monumental Hitchcock/Truffaut) to be inspired by the pleasure & the power of great movies and those who made them. it helps that the subject under consideration here is probably my favorite kind of movie, and with this one wonderful & comprehensive volume Harvey elegantly & eloquently puts to rest any notion of comedy being somehow less important or profound an example of the cinematic art. far from being merely dry dissection, Harvey's book communicates successfully the transformative joy that can be found in the cinematic experience.
April 27, 2011
James Harvey masterfully brings you in until you experience the films as you're reading -- even the ones you haven't yet seen! A book to make you excited, it vibrates with the energy of the era it evokes. The analysis of "Make Way for Tomorrow" will break your heart. My favorite actress of all time is Jean Arthur, and nobody has ever evoked her appeal as expertly as Harvey does here. Everybody on these pages comes to living, breathing life.
November 5, 2010
Absolutely smashing, and I would LOVE to see "It's A Wonderful World". This book makes me feel as if I'm watching the movies again--or almost like I'm seeing them for the first time, with a friend.
Could do without the step by step analyses of Astaire/Rogers dances, but that's just me. Still, fabulous.
Could do without the step by step analyses of Astaire/Rogers dances, but that's just me. Still, fabulous.
March 21, 2013
I love movies from the 30's - 50's, and this was a book that added to my knowledge, interest, and enjoyment of those movies. The author is enamored with Irene Dunne, and some of his writing is clouded by this obvious bias. With that said, a great book to read if you enjoy movies from this era.
May 31, 2013
One of the best general histories and critiques of Hollywood movies of the 1933 to 1944 period. Although it concentrates on romantic comedy films and screwball comedies, Harvey has many wise things to say about other films from different genres in this period.
February 13, 2013
This author is a wanker. He provides mostly plot summaries and completely lame analyses
March 11, 2025
One of my favorite books of film criticism/history ever, and the best guide to Screwball Comedy ever written.
October 13, 2007
Splendid!
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews