This is a gorgeous, well-contextualized restoration of one of the greatest and most mercenary of all American comedies.
Howard Hawks’s first western arrives in a handsome dual-format package from Criterion including the long-unavailable theatrical cut of the film.
That multitude, with regard to films, is rather restricted to a specific kind of cinephilia, primarily an overt emphasis on Classical Hollywood.
Meeuf calls on much example-based evidence to support his claims, though the strongest arguably come from his compelling and enjoyable discussion of the difference between one-sheet posters in various nations.
Of course, film ain’t fiction, so to speak, and his first book length effort on crime films is like a Webley revolver with a sticky trigger; it works, just not as fluidly or efficiently as one would like.
The most creative periods for the movies seem to occur about every 30 years, usually triggered by the advent of some new technology.
All invasion stories are allegorical, which makes this pair of movies a perfect vehicle to debut what I hope will be a fun, immersive series of essays and considerations.
You’d have to go to Barbara Billingsley for another jive session this enjoyable.
The film’s optimistic integration of intellectual and physical impulses lends it a feeling of wholeness closer to Howard Hawks’s later, more serene films.
An uneven set illustrates the facets of Cooper's persona. Worth it for fans? Yup.