The Hays Code-cracking rom-com gets an upgrade
The first time I saw Some Like it Hot was more than a quarter-century ago in a high school Film & Literature class, and I promptly fell in love. I had just enough familiarity with mob films and screwball comedies to key into its influences, and the story of two down-on-their luck musicians on the run from the mafia immediately became my favorite romantic comedy. Over the years, it’s been one of those rare favorites that only appreciates as you learn more about the history of cinema and gain a deeper understanding of the film, its nested gags and pop culture jokes of the day, and its impact on the industry.
Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemon), two jazz musicians who are down-on-their-luck even before they accidentally witness a murder by Chicago mob boss “Spats” Columbo (George Raft), think they’ve caught a lucky break when they disguise themselves and sneak into an all-girls band to play down in Florida. What they don’t know, however, is that they’re in a Billy Wilder movie where the legendary writer/director is in full Shakespeare “Comedy of Errors” mode, and he’s about to make their lives a hilarious living hell. Some Like It Hot may be infamous for being a massive success in spite of not being certified by the Hays Code, but it’s the deft construction of the film and lighting-fast delivery of both one-off and deliberately set-up gags and uproarious scenarios that make it an enduring classic.
Joe (aka Josephine) and Jerry (aka Daphne – she didn’t like “Geraldine”) are swept off their feet as much as the audience by Marilyn Monroe’s Sugar Kane, the ukulele-playing singer for Sweet Sue and her Society of Syncopators. Both fugitives begin to bond with the girls, but Joe falls hard for Sugar and poses as a heartsick millionaire to try to seduce her, even as Jerry/Daphne catches the eye of actual millionaire Osgood Fielding III (Joe E. Brown). What follows is a constantly shuffling upstairs/downstairs slamming door farce of mishaps and romance as one lie spins out into countless more. The movie not only makes brilliant use of Curtis and Lemon’s crackling chemistry, but lets Monroe play both the bubbly airhead and the broken-hearted melancholy of a girl who only knows how to sing and run away, investing the audience that much more in everyone catching up to their happy ending.
The film may have only been shot in black and white because of how clownish Curtis and Lemon looked in their color makeup tests, but the style beautifully compliments the streak of noir crime film that threads through the period setting. Wilder gets to contrast the cold dark nights of 1929 Chicago with the bright and bustling beachfront of Florida, and the stylized visuals compliment the arch and winking script. Mob bosses all have silly nicknames and props to go with them and the primary lawman trying to get another crack at arresting Spats is Officer Mulligan. The film doesn’t quite go into full-on meta territory, but in addition to the exaggerated genre touches it throws in plenty of jokes about the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn or the stock market crashing (okay, that one’s less funny now).
For being over two hours, the film’s constantly escalating script and genuine romantic chemistry keep it rocketing along, but Wilder’s skill at composing an image for either intimacy or comedy can’t be overstated. There are moments where things get as crowded and busy as A Night At the Opera‘s infamous cabin scene, and off-stage/onstage chase scenes that feel like a direct influence on Scooby-Doo, and that’s not even going into the musical numbers that fluctuate between sultry and sprightly (I don’t know if Curtis and Lemon could actually play, but they sure fake it well). It’s an endlessly easy watch, balancing an ever-increasing number of plates so that once the Spats shows up for a literal Mob Convention in Act 3, the audience is leaning forward steepling their fingers instead of throwing their hands in the air at the happenstance.
Through all this buffoonery, you’d think it would be easy for the film to lose sight of empathy for its own characters at the expense of making another joke at their expense, but Billy Wilder is simply too good for that. The constant running around and changing outfits and settings not only lets the cast indulge in physical comedy and rapid-fire wordplay, but also lets Joe/Josephine and Jerry/Daphne see the fallout of their actions as the film builds several of these stereotypes into fleshed-out characters. For all that Wilder feels like he’s only keeping what’s absolutely necessary, I wouldn’t have minded spending even more time with Sue and Bienstock and the Syncopators.
It’s easy to see how critics at the time dismissed it as not much more than breezy and fun, and Sam Wasson’s Criterion essay on the film even calls Wilder “America’s id,” wanting only to show audiences a good time. Wasson even points out that the legendary final line of the movie was a placeholder all the way up until it was shot and only pleased the filmmakers once they saw the reaction it received. However, the years since have proven it to be both the light romp it was brushed off as, but also one which carries meaning for unaccounted audiences whether Wilder was thinking of them or not.
It’s also worth noting that juggling this many plates and making it look easy is no mean feat, and repeat viewings have only made me appreciate its construction all the more. I wasn’t being hyperbolic when I invoked the Bard, because the movie genuinely feels like a modern master taking inspiration from the likes of “Much Ado About Nothing” and making it his own, much the same way Shakespeare did with Pyramus and Thisbe. The film’s nonchalance with taboo subjects of the time like cross-dressing and same-sex relationships may have been mined for laughs, but – accidentally or not – makes for a story that’s aged shockingly well.
For those who’ve not had the pleasure, this is the perfect chance to fill in a cinematic blind spot. I don’t invoke Much Ado lightly, but the “oh no, everyone’s hot and horny” Kenneth Branagh 1993 adaptation would make a killer double with Some Like It Hot. It’s yet another example of how “classic cinema” shouldn’t be treated as Homework – movies like this become a “classic” because they’re just a goddamn blast to watch.
Presentation
Criterion created their 4K restoration from the film’s original 35mm negatives for the 2018 Blu-ray release, and here that transfer is presented in Dolby Vision HDR. The higher definition and richer contrast accentuates both the film noir lighting that Wilder used for scenes like the garage shootout and car chase in Chicago while sunlight Florida is radiant without being blown out. Costuming textures, hair, and the smokey interiors really benefit from the higher resolution, and Wilder’s deep focus shots are well-served by the transfer.
The film’s original mono track was also remastered from the 35mm magnetic tracks, which is presented uncompressed here, and there’s also a 5.1 surround DTS HD track (only on the 4K disc). The dialogue is sharp without sounding tinny, even in the original mono, and comes through most during the musical sequences with the occasional explosion of gunfire.
Some Like It Hot is presented in its original 1:85:1 aspect ratio on both the 4K UHD and Blu-ray discs.
Bonus Content:
The bonus features here are identical to the 2018 Criterion Blu-ray release, and all except the audio commentary accompanying the feature on on the 2nd Blu-ray disc. It’s nothing wildly original, but it’s comprehensive as we’ve seen from this film.
Kino Lorber Studio Classics previously released the film to 4K UHD, also as a Blu-ray combo with a respectable alternate – and slightly lesser – set of bonus features. There’s some overlap, and both editions have some material not present on the other, but ultimately the Criterion version brings more to the table.
Disc 1 (4K UHD)
Theatrical Cut of the film (121 minutes)
- 4k digital restoration presented in Dolby Vision HDR, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
- Alternate 5.1 surround DTS HD Master audio soundtrack
- Audio Commentary from 1989 with film scholar Howard Schuber
Disc 2 (HD Blu-ray)
Theatrical Cut of the film (121 minutes)
- 4k digital restoration presented in 1080p HD with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
- Audio Commentary from 1989 with film scholar Howard Schuber
- Program on Orry-Kelly’s costumes for the film, featuring costume designer and historian Deborah Nadoolman Landis and costume historian and archivist Larry McQueen
- Three behind-the-scenes documentaries
- The Making of Some Like It Hot
- The Legacy of Some Like it Hot
- Memories from the Sweet Sues
- Appearances by director Billy Wilder on The Dick Cavett Show from 1982
- Conversation from 2001 between actor Tony Curtis and film critic Leonard Maltin
- French television interview from 1988 with actor Jack Lemmon
- Radio interview from 1955 with actor Marilyn Monroe
- Theatrical Trailer
Essay by author Sam Wasson (insert in packaging)
Some Like It Hot is now available on both 4K UHD and HD Blu-ray from Criterion.
