Bringing Up Baby (1938) Review

They just don’t make films like they used to. That’s been said for a long time, and for a long time it’s been true. Nowadays, if a film has an original story, it’s a rarity. If it has decently written dialogue, it’s a miracle. We look back to the films of the 80s and 90s and wonder where the magic went, but travel back further and you're reminded just how effortless Hollywood could make it all seem. Especially when Howard Hawks was around.

Roger Ebert called Hawks “one of the greatest American directors of pure movies,” and looking at his filmography, it’s hard to disagree. From ‘His Girl Friday’ and ‘The Big Sleep’ to ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ and ‘Rio Bravo,’ Hawks could turn his hand to any genre. He was a magic-maker, a true auteur who could never be pigeon-holed. The films he made are legendary and still beloved to this day.

1938’s ‘Bringing Up Baby’ is one of his best. A riotous screwball comedy, it follows mild-mannered palaeontologist David Huxley, who is on the verge of securing a million-dollar museum donation and marrying his fiancée. His carefully ordered life is thrown into disarray when he crosses paths with the irrepressible Susan Vance, a wealthy free spirit whose boundless enthusiasm is matched only by her talent for creating chaos. Before long, David finds himself dragged into a whirlwind involving Susan’s pet leopard Baby, a missing dinosaur bone, a mischievous dog and a series of increasingly absurd misunderstandings.

Based on Hagar Wilde’s short story of the same name, it’s a wildly entertaining, comedic knockout. Everything about the narrative works. What begins as a relatively simple premise steadily escalates into an increasingly chaotic series of comic set pieces, yet it never loses sight of its characters or descends into complete absurdity. Each scene naturally builds upon the last, with every mishap leading seamlessly into another. Rather than feeling repetitive or exhausting, the film gathers momentum, taking the audience on a breathless thrill ride, somehow becoming funnier with every passing minute.

Much of that is down to the screenplay by Dudley Nichols and Wilde. The dialogue is razor-sharp, packed with witty exchanges, while their characterisation is rich, the interplay between David and Susan leading to some fantastic moments. Simply listening to the characters speak is a tremendous joy. Further, Hawks' trademark rapid-fire pacing ensures there is scarcely a moment to catch your breath. Even after nearly ninety years, the comedy still lands with remarkable consistency.

Beneath its chaotic surface, ‘Bringing Up Baby’ has also inspired surprisingly deep thematic analysis. In his paper ‘Marriage as Adultery: Hollywood Romance and the Screwball Comedy,’ David Shumway notes that the film incorporates significant gender reversal roles, with David somewhat ineffectual and Susan the real go-getter. In their study ‘The Green World and the Screwball Comedy: A Pastoral World of Play,’ academics Robin L. Murray and Joseph K. Heumann go even deeper, claiming the film doesn’t just contain notes about gender, but also examines themes of exploitation and the impact of colonialism.

These interpretations may be valid, and you can certainly find thematic depth within the film if you want to. However, the greatest achievement of ‘Bringing Up Baby’ is that it never feels weighed down by any deeper meanings. Whether examining its themes or simply enjoying its outrageous comedy, it’s a rollicking good time. Hawks directs with remarkable confidence, maintaining a breakneck pace without ever allowing the action to become confusing. Every movement, reaction and cut creates a sense of spontaneity while revealing an extraordinary level of control.

Russell Metty’s cinematography is similarly impressive. While the film does not rely on flashy visuals, the camera work perfectly complements Hawks' energetic direction, allowing the actors and their performances to take centre stage. The framing is clean and purposeful, ensuring the audience can follow every glance and comic exchange. The production design is simple but effective, creating an ordinary world that allows the increasingly ridiculous events feel even more absurd.

George Hively’s editing is essential to maintaining the film’s relentless momentum. Screwball comedy depends on timing, and every cut feels carefully placed to maximise the impact of each joke. Despite the escalating bedlam, the film is never difficult to follow, each scene flowing naturally into the next. Hawks and Hively create a rhythm that feels almost musical, allowing the narrative to sprout wings and fly.

Another defining feature of Hawks' direction is his use of overlapping dialogue. Characters rarely wait patiently for their turn to speak; instead, conversations collide, creating a sense of urgency. This technique gives the film a wonderfully natural energy, which is a real pleasure to listen to. The physical comedy is handled with the same level of precision, with Hawks carefully staging each movement to ensure the maximum comedic impact.

The film’s greatest strength may be in the irresistible pairing of Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. Grant is having a ball as David, playing the role to a tee. Whether dusting off an old fossil, careening down a street with Hepburn, or desperately trying to escape the titular leopard, he is simply brilliant. He has a great knack for physical comedy, and it’s refreshing to see an actor so often associated with charm and sophistication playing a bumbling man completely out of his depth. Watching David's composure slowly unravel is one of the film's greatest pleasures, Grant committing fully to every moment of his increasingly madcap situation.

As Susan, Hepburn is a whirlwind of energy and unpredictability. On paper, Susan's constant meddling could have made her exhausting, but Hepburn gives her such warmth, intelligence and charisma that her every action feels irresistible. Not simply a source of madness; she is the force that breaks David out of his rigid, carefully planned existence. Hepburn is rightly considered one of cinema’s finest; her exuberant performance as Susan is a perfect example of why. She brings such confidence and spontaneity to the role that even the most outrageous decisions feel completely natural, while beneath the eccentricity, Hepburn gives the character a genuine sense of heart.

Her chemistry with Grant is electric. They had already made ‘Sylvia Scarlett,’ and would go on to feature together again in ‘Holiday’ and ‘The Philadelphia Story,’ though it is here that they seem to be having the most fun. Their contrasting personalities create a perfect comedic partnership, with David's desire for order constantly colliding with Susan's embrace of chaos. Neither performance works quite as well without the other, together they create one of the most memorable pairings in classic Hollywood comedy.

Their supporting cast also do fine work. May Robson brings a wonderful deadpan quality to Aunt Elizabeth, while Walter Catlett's increasingly bewildered Constable Slocum provides some deeply funny moments. Carefully trained by Olga Celeste, Nissa the leopard perfectly embodies the film's ability to turn complete absurdity into comedy. Reportedly, the notoriously intrepid Hepburn had little fear around the big cat, while Grant was far more cautious; most of his close interactions with Nissa were filmed using a stand-in.

Howard Hawks’ screwball spectacular ‘Bringing Up Baby’ remains every bit as fresh, energetic and hilarious as it was upon release. With a brilliantly funny screenplay, unforgettable performances from Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn, and a supporting cast that elevates every scene, it stands as one of the finest examples of screwball comedy ever made. It is a reminder of the effortless charm and magic that classic Hollywood could create. They just don’t make films like ‘Bringing Up Baby’ anymore- without the likes of Hawks, Hepburn and Grant, they never could.