Only Angels Have Wings

Howard Hawks makes the dangerous business of flying feel inseparable from the business of getting along with other people. Only Angels Have Wings is a deeply satisfying adventure and romance, with one reservation: it sometimes gives male obstinacy more respect than it deserves. The pilots’ competence is attractive, and so is their refusal to turn fear into a public occasion. But Hawks also lets us feel how difficult it would be to love someone who treats an admission of need as a professional failing.

Cary Grant’s Geoff Carter gives that problem a persuasive human form. Grant makes reserve engaging without suggesting that it would be easy to live with, and Jean Arthur’s Bonnie Lee supplies enough spirit to keep the romance from becoming an exercise in admiring him. Their attraction is convincing because both performances retain a certain bite. Jules Furthman’s screenplay gives them dialogue worth listening to, and the humour does useful work: we enjoy their company before being asked to care about their difficulties.

Joseph Walker’s cinematography makes the confined sets serve the drama, keeping us alert to how people occupy the same space. There is pressure in having so little room to be privately afraid, and Hawks makes the group itself feel difficult to escape. We were more tense watching the pilots together than we expected to be. Their guarded behaviour in those tight surroundings makes even companionship feel demanding, though the aerial sequences provide plenty of excitement of their own.

Thomas Mitchell’s Kid Dabb helps make that companionship worth the trouble; the ensemble gives the impression of people who have reasons to keep coming back to one another. Rita Hayworth’s Judy registers strongly without pulling attention away from the group. Richard Barthelmess, as Bat MacPherson, is less consistently engaging, and his restraint can look a little inert beside Grant’s. Still, the supporting performances matter as much as the central romance, which is essential in a film asking us to believe in this working community.

Viola Lawrence’s editing handles the mixture of drama, comedy and flying with a welcome lack of fuss. The changes of pace work because our interest stays with the people, rather than having to start again whenever the film changes mood. We would rank Dimitri Tiomkin’s music below the actors’ voices among its pleasures; the sharp talk and guarded responses are what stay with us. At 121 minutes, the film has time to establish the group’s company as something we might miss.

The limitation is Hawks’s indulgence towards the men’s code. Keeping a job going despite fear is admirable; making emotional reticence the condition of belonging can become tiresome, especially when the romance has to accommodate it. Arthur’s spirited performance prevents that imbalance from settling into complacency, but we occasionally wanted the film to question its pilots a little harder. Their stubbornness does not always deserve the same regard as their courage.

As an aviation adventure, it offers excitement without letting the flying overwhelm the people who do it. The romance also earns its place: affection is difficult here because the habits that keep these people working do not make them easy companions. That gives the film a warmth we would not expect from so much practised toughness. See it for Grant and Arthur, and allow the other faces time to become equally important.