It’s the rat-a-tat-tat, overlapping zinger-zinger rhythm of the dialogue that catches your attention. But it’s Russell’s ferocious, unyielding wit giving Grant’s wiliness all he can handle that mesmerizes you.
On top of that delicious centerpiece, we’re also treated to a dizzying portrayal of the newspaper world— with slices of satire dished out to journalists, corrupt politicians, the police, and the legal system. There’s even an interesting wrinkle of a black police officer being shot, and the messy political implications ("“Because it happened to be a colored policeman—and you know what that means, Hildy.”) that I never caught the first time I saw this. There’s so much going on!
In the wrong hands, this is a film about a relationship that might be deemed toxic and problematic, but Russell and Grant pop off the screen and truly deserve one another. And we're lucky to have them.