So much happens in that "Front Page" that even the least attentive viewer quickly gets the notion that any attention to the plot wouldn't matter as long as the frictions between Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon generate their programmed sparkles of hilarity. On that level, the film is a mild success and a tender reminder of one of the most endearing comical duos... but there's a reason why it's seldom mentioned among Billy Wilder's greats.
But let's get things in order. Matthau is Walter burns, the managing editor of Chicago newspaper 'The Examiner', a news crusader who abides by the Holy Trinity of big headlines, big money and the holy scoop; if it's good enough to be printed, it's good enough to be true. Hildy Johnson (Jack Lemmon) is his ace reporter just about to quit his job to marry Peggy (Susan Sarandon) a music-hall pianist. Bad timing, he decides so the day before the most anticipated execution in the country, a leftist activist named Earl Williams (Austin Pendleton) convicted for the accidental murder of a Black police officer and stuffing fortune cookies against the Sacco and Vanzetti trial. All the members of the Yellow press (the equivalent of today's tabloids) are gathered in the pressroom playing poker, drinking and exchanging wisecracks but Hildy ain't part of that party anymore... or is he?
The film's entire narrative revolves around the many little hazards and twists that will bring Hildy closer and closer to his phone and then his typewriter, forcing him to postpone his train with Peggy, that and a few obtrusive maneuvers orchestrated by Burns, as far as ruining his friend's reputation for the sake of a scoop, you'd call it Machiavellian, it's just professional deformation. One can trust Matthau to be convincing as any type of loudmouthed bossy figure, so boisterous that Lemmon can pass as a straight-man despite his goofy attempt at seriousness. He keeps on resisting the scoop bait until he finds himself entangled in the prisoner's escape and a welcome opportunity to ridicule the sheriff (Vincent Gardenia) whose incompetence puts Burns' zeal into perspective.
"The Front Page" was adapted from a play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur that met success during the 30s, a cynical time where the spirit of America was gangrened by the Great Depression, the Prohibition and the Red Scare when communism was a virus feared to spread all over the growing masses of citizens. The 70s were as cynical and disillusioned as the 30s and there's something almost MASH-esque in that pressroom full of blasé journalists who only care for the next news item or the next hand they'll get. Now is it too far-fetched to see a coincidence to have that corrupt mayor (Harold Gould) in a journalist-themed film directed the same year the Press impeached a President? Probably. These scribes are more thriving for sensationalism than justice, they're frauds thus perfect candidates for a Wilder film (and his writing partner I. A. L Diamond).
They're all frauds indeed. Burns is a freedom of speech advocate acting like a tyrant, Hildy wants to marry Peggy but can't divorce with his job. And all that gallery of journalists, played by colorful character actors such as Charles Durning and Allen Garfield have been desensitized by their inky hunger. Even the headlines' star is a bumbling sickly guy (a nerdy Woody Allen-like figure) almost glorified by abusive vilification. There's no room either for romance for the closest to a passionate love interest is a hysterical two-bit prostitute (played by Carol Burnett who was ashamed by her performance) Every single character's trope is deconstructed in this big farce for one might regret that the film tries so much to embrace the screwball energy that it doesn't grant us one relief where we can at least get a taste of social commentary.
It doesn't help that the killing of a black officer is treated like a gag and surely that bit hasn't aged well but even within the context of the film, it's hard to accept such an obviously likable fellow to be in the death row, but not to get away with murder either. Wilder has proved capable to handle comedy better and maybe "The Fortune Cookie" which I might have considered too preachy or "Avanti!" too romantically tedious prompted him to go full comedy in this film, and in a way "The Front Page" is a nice little comedy, not headlines material though, barely a column in the miscellaneous facts section.
But I guess Wilder had just lost his touch with the public, the film looks both modern and fresh and yet so dated and obsolete by the 70s standards. It tries to have the buffoonery of Peter Sellers' films and the slapstick zest of Mel Brooks but somehow it doesn't have a tone of its own and everything depends on the degree of sympathy you have to characters hardly calling for empathy. It's as fine a stage comedy but too much enclosed within the gates of that prison, maybe a larger scale might have given it a sort of "The Sting" touch.
And given the quality of Wilder's final films, right now I'm not even sure I want to give "Buddy, Buddy" a try.
But let's get things in order. Matthau is Walter burns, the managing editor of Chicago newspaper 'The Examiner', a news crusader who abides by the Holy Trinity of big headlines, big money and the holy scoop; if it's good enough to be printed, it's good enough to be true. Hildy Johnson (Jack Lemmon) is his ace reporter just about to quit his job to marry Peggy (Susan Sarandon) a music-hall pianist. Bad timing, he decides so the day before the most anticipated execution in the country, a leftist activist named Earl Williams (Austin Pendleton) convicted for the accidental murder of a Black police officer and stuffing fortune cookies against the Sacco and Vanzetti trial. All the members of the Yellow press (the equivalent of today's tabloids) are gathered in the pressroom playing poker, drinking and exchanging wisecracks but Hildy ain't part of that party anymore... or is he?
The film's entire narrative revolves around the many little hazards and twists that will bring Hildy closer and closer to his phone and then his typewriter, forcing him to postpone his train with Peggy, that and a few obtrusive maneuvers orchestrated by Burns, as far as ruining his friend's reputation for the sake of a scoop, you'd call it Machiavellian, it's just professional deformation. One can trust Matthau to be convincing as any type of loudmouthed bossy figure, so boisterous that Lemmon can pass as a straight-man despite his goofy attempt at seriousness. He keeps on resisting the scoop bait until he finds himself entangled in the prisoner's escape and a welcome opportunity to ridicule the sheriff (Vincent Gardenia) whose incompetence puts Burns' zeal into perspective.
"The Front Page" was adapted from a play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur that met success during the 30s, a cynical time where the spirit of America was gangrened by the Great Depression, the Prohibition and the Red Scare when communism was a virus feared to spread all over the growing masses of citizens. The 70s were as cynical and disillusioned as the 30s and there's something almost MASH-esque in that pressroom full of blasé journalists who only care for the next news item or the next hand they'll get. Now is it too far-fetched to see a coincidence to have that corrupt mayor (Harold Gould) in a journalist-themed film directed the same year the Press impeached a President? Probably. These scribes are more thriving for sensationalism than justice, they're frauds thus perfect candidates for a Wilder film (and his writing partner I. A. L Diamond).
They're all frauds indeed. Burns is a freedom of speech advocate acting like a tyrant, Hildy wants to marry Peggy but can't divorce with his job. And all that gallery of journalists, played by colorful character actors such as Charles Durning and Allen Garfield have been desensitized by their inky hunger. Even the headlines' star is a bumbling sickly guy (a nerdy Woody Allen-like figure) almost glorified by abusive vilification. There's no room either for romance for the closest to a passionate love interest is a hysterical two-bit prostitute (played by Carol Burnett who was ashamed by her performance) Every single character's trope is deconstructed in this big farce for one might regret that the film tries so much to embrace the screwball energy that it doesn't grant us one relief where we can at least get a taste of social commentary.
It doesn't help that the killing of a black officer is treated like a gag and surely that bit hasn't aged well but even within the context of the film, it's hard to accept such an obviously likable fellow to be in the death row, but not to get away with murder either. Wilder has proved capable to handle comedy better and maybe "The Fortune Cookie" which I might have considered too preachy or "Avanti!" too romantically tedious prompted him to go full comedy in this film, and in a way "The Front Page" is a nice little comedy, not headlines material though, barely a column in the miscellaneous facts section.
But I guess Wilder had just lost his touch with the public, the film looks both modern and fresh and yet so dated and obsolete by the 70s standards. It tries to have the buffoonery of Peter Sellers' films and the slapstick zest of Mel Brooks but somehow it doesn't have a tone of its own and everything depends on the degree of sympathy you have to characters hardly calling for empathy. It's as fine a stage comedy but too much enclosed within the gates of that prison, maybe a larger scale might have given it a sort of "The Sting" touch.
And given the quality of Wilder's final films, right now I'm not even sure I want to give "Buddy, Buddy" a try.