Frank Capra’s romantic comedy is funny, sexy and excellent company. Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert make the bickering worth listening to, though the assumption that she needs taking in hand has worn less well.
It Happened One Night is excellent company, provided we can put up with a man who assumes he should be in charge. Frank Capra builds his romantic comedy around the friction between a socialite and a reporter, and makes their conversation worth the journey. Robert Riskin’s screenplay gives them plenty to object to in each other, beginning with money and manners. The attraction is persuasive because neither seems particularly eager to find anything admirable in the other.
Clark Gable plays Peter Warne with a confidence that can be attractive and tiresome within the same exchange. He makes the reporter’s practical assurance funny by letting us hear how pleased Peter is with it. We laughed at Peter’s pleasure in giving advice, then wanted Ellie to interrupt him. Claudette Colbert’s Ellie Andrews is entitled, but she is also alert enough to notice when his advice is becoming a performance. Colbert refuses to make her merely grateful for the attention, and much of the pleasure comes from watching her assess him while he carries on talking.
There is a useful inconvenience in making a bus journey the basis of this courtship. The socialite cannot assume that her preferences settle every question, while the reporter’s self-reliance is something he has to demonstrate to another person. Capra gets comedy from that difference without asking us to find wealth charming in itself. The chance encounters matter too: they stop the central pair from seeming like the only people who have somewhere to get to, and give their disagreements some welcome interruptions.
Joseph Walker’s cinematography serves the actors well; the chief visual pleasure is watching them assess each other. Gene Havlick’s editing gives the exchanges pace without making the performances seem hurried, and the film’s 105 minutes leave enough room for the attraction to become credible. Howard Jackson’s music makes less of an impression than the rhythm of the talk. That seems a sensible balance in a comedy where the moment someone chooses to answer can matter as much as the answer itself.
The reservation is Peter’s authority, which the film sometimes accepts more readily than we do. Riskin’s teasing can carry an assumption that Ellie’s money has made her a child and that a capable man will improve her. The comedy is less charming whenever his bossiness seems to count as wisdom; Colbert’s resistance is what keeps those moments alive. The shifting advantage between them is funny, but the unequal expectations remain noticeable, even when the actors make a particular exchange seem effortless.
For a romantic comedy, the considerable achievement here is how much time we want to spend with the pair before any question of their future needs answering. Capra trusts two performers to keep us interested in conversation, and for most of the film that confidence is justified. Some of the manners need tolerating, and Peter could do with fewer opportunities to instruct. Watch it for Colbert’s refusal to be impressed.
