“You Know How To Whistle, Don’t You?”-The To Have Part-TheFilm Adaptation Of Ernest Hemingway’s To Have And Have Not

 

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

DVD Review

To Have And Have Not, starring Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Walter Brennan, directed by Howard Hawks, 1944

Recently, a little by off-hand chance I picked up and re-read a copy of Ernest Hemingway’s 1930s story, To Have And  Have Not, not one of his classics, not really close, but a story that centered on man’s struggle against the fates, his fates, one Harry Morgan’s fate in a world that was seriously circumscribed by the limits of his personal environment. I mentioned there that those of us who have been spoon-fed on the film adaptation (with a screenplay written by William Faulkner) To Have And Have Not starring Humphrey Bogart and a fresh young Lauren Bacall would be somewhat taken aback on reading Ernest Hemingway’s original story. Other than the title and a few names of characters they were two totally different animals.

I noted that the film Harry Morgan (Captain Harry Morgan by virtue of a sweet little fishing boat just then being used to take rich touristas out for some deep-sea fishing, it they could handle it) a crusty, no-nonsense, world wary, world weary, everybody looks out for themselves, but in the end unabashedly heroic sea captain played by Humphrey Bogart borne no relationship to the novel Harry other than maybe that crusty part. Moreover the novel’s Harry, a hustler of limited means and character, was not some guy ready to succumb to the charms of the film’s wayward “Slim” played by a fetching young Lauren Bacall and to be lured into those charms by her “you know how whistle, don’t you?” all to the sway of seen-it- all piano player Hoagie Carmichael’s renditions of  Am I Blue and How Little We Know (among others).

There would be no novel Harry heroics with him  getting off the dime and aiding the angels in the struggle that was blowing over Europe at the time of World War II as translated into Caribe time just because he didn’t like some fat quisling doing Vichy’s dirty work out in the colonies. Or maybe, just maybe because he didn’t like that third degree Slim was put through by that quisling because she was down or her uppers. Nor would we see any mussing up the bad guys just because he didn’t like the cut of their jibe, and didn’t mind chasing a few windmills if a slender brunette came with it. So mainly we would see no romantic haze in the night but rather a gritty, grizzly world of sea-ward crimes, high and low. What drove novel Harry was simply making the next dime to feed the wife and kids, and maybe some time for a drink or seven with the boys down at some gin mill by the docks where a stand-up guy like him could put things on the cuff. Yeah, making that next dime legally if possible, but making it. No good end could come from that and that Harry would up face down with some serious shells blasting away his stomach.  

All of this, of course, by way of explaining that once I had finished the book and had written that review, as will happen off-handedly or not at times, I got to thinking that I had not seen that film adaptation, a film I that had seen several times in the past, in a long time and so this review. I have already outlined the main themes above so a little plot-line summary should fill out my reasons for why this second- line Hemingway novel turned into a fine film with some serious sexual chemistry on screen (and off as well) between Bogart and Bacall. Like I said both Harrys were sea dogs, sea dog small craft fishing boat owners just plying their deep-sea fishing trade. From there things diverge, diverge greatly.        

Our film Harry, a strictly non-political guy, having seen-it-all, was working his trade in 1940 Vichy French-controlled Martinique just as World War II; European version was starting to boil over. The local branch of the French Resistance pleaded with Harry to help transport various local leaders to safer quarters but Harry wanted none of that. Wanted none of that until she showed up, she showed up almost on his doorstep. Well, she, Slim she, and that hard fact that as the time for picking sides became clearer once the local Vichy put the screws on Harry was forced off the dime. Naturally when decision time, when 1940s decision time came, he sided with the angels. But we knew that already, we knew he had no choice once he saw what the other side was up to.

So that leaves us with the heart of the film, the one that makes this thing sizzle,1940s sizzle, the magic between Bogart and Bacall. It’s a mismatch on the surface, he, well, crusty and world-weary, and she, well, fetching okay, but as they do their dance you know, know damn well, they will pair up. And as it turns out fetching or not, our Slim is no wilting violet but can be as tough as she needs to be, can show that a gal on down on her uppers can still have spirit, and still come up swinging. Yeah, he was a push-over for that. All that needs to be said now is that if you want to see what black and white film chemistry, sexual chemistry in the 1940s, was like between two people with all their clothes on then watch this classic.