Momentos Eternos de la Historia del Cine – III / Some Like It Hot [Billy Wilder, 1959]

Momentos Eternos de la Historia del Cine – III / Some Like It Hot [Billy Wilder, 1959]

Some Like It Hot – [Billy Wilder, 1959]





[Marilyn Monroe – Ruunin` Wild]




[Some Like It Hot – I]




[Some Like It Hot – II]


JOE [Cary Grant by now] Do you play the market?

SUGAR No — the ukulele. And I sing.

JOE For your own amusement?

SUGAR Well — a group of us are appearing at the hotel. Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopators.

JOE You’re society girls?

SUGAR Oh, yes. Quite. You know — Vassar, Bryn Mawr — we’re only doing this for a lark.

JOE Syncopators — does that mean you play that fast music — jazz?

SUGAR Yeah. Real hot.

JOE Oh. Well, I guess some like it hot. But personally, I prefer classical music.


¿Por qué Some Like It Hot es la mejor comedia jamás filmada (hasta la fecha)?

La respuesta es simple: vedla y juzgad por vosotros mismos.



Some Like It Hot es el mejor ejemplo del arte de la transformación, de la reinvención, en donde nada se sostiene y, no obstante, todo vale y perdura. El espléndido guión de Billy Wilder y I.A.L. Diamond, que recoge lo mejor de los diálogos agudos y chispeantes de las screwball comedies de los años 30 y 40, está tan repleto de estupendos chistes, dobles sentidos, entrelazadas réplicas invertidas y alusiones que resulta difícil encontrar algún otro más perfecto. No es extraño, por tanto, que Some Like It Hot figure habitualmente como la primera de la lista de las mejores comedias de todos los tiempos. Habría que retroceder a obras teatrales como Much Ado About Nothing o A Midsummer Night`s Dream, en el caso de Shakespeare, y The Importance od Being Earnest, de Oscar Wilde, por ejemplo, para encontrar algo parecido y tan bueno.



Pero es que, además, Some Like It Hot podría valer también como ejemplo del cruce de fronteras, no ya sólo sociales o de género, sino personales y «políticas» (en el sentido más griego del término): Billy Wilder era Samuel Wilder y venía de Sucha Beskidzka (Galitzia, Imperio Austro-Húngaro); I.A.L. Diamond era Itec Domnici y venía de Ungheni (Moldavia, antigua Besarabia); Tony Curtis era Bernard Schwartz y venía de las calles del Bronx (y en la divertida secuencia de la playa, deja de ser Josephine y de ser Joe, para convertirse en Junior, de la Shell Oil Co., empleando, por cierto, el acento forzado de un señor llamado Archibald Leach, más conocido como Cary Grant, rizando el rizo al máximo) y, para terminar con el ejemplo de la transgresión, tenemos a Sugar Kane («Azúcar de caña»), Sugar Kowalczyk, que transfiguraba a Norma Jean (Baker o Mortenson), a su vez transfigurada en y como Marilyn Monroe, y que venía de ningún sitio.




¿Podría ser el mensaje, la moraleja de esta amoral película -como sostiene Nicholas Barber en BBC Culture-: experimenta con la identidad, intenta ser otro; a lo mejor eso te convierte en una persona mejor o más feliz? [1]



[Secuencia de la playa – Guión literario extraído del script original]

JOE [Cary Grant by now] Do you play the market?

SUGAR No — the ukulele. And I sing.

JOE For your own amusement?

SUGAR Well — a group of us are appearing at the hotel. Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopators.

JOE You’re society girls?

SUGAR Oh, yes. Quite. You know — Vassar, Bryn Mawr — we’re only doing this for a lark.

JOE Syncopators — does that mean you play that fast music — jazz?

SUGAR Yeah. Real hot.

JOE Oh. Well, I guess some like it hot. But personally, I prefer classical music.

SUGAR So do I. As a matter of fact, I spent three years at the Sheboygan Conservatory of Music.

JOE Good school! And your family doesn’t object to your career?

SUGAR They do indeed. Daddy threatened to cut me off without a cent, but I don’t care. It was such a bore — coming-out parties, cotillions —

JOE Inauguration balls —

SUGAR Opening of the Opera —

JOE Riding to hounds —

SUGAR — and always the same Four Hundred.

JOE You know, it’s amazing we never ran into each other before. I’m sure I would have remembered anybody as attractive as you.

SUGAR You’re very kind. I’ll bet you’re also very gentle — and helpless —

JOE I beg your pardon?

SUGAR You see, I have this theory about men with glasses.

JOE What theory?

SUGAR Maybe I’ll tell you when I know you a little better. What are you doing tonight?

JOE Tonight?

SUGAR I thought you might like to come to the hotel and hear us play.

JOE I’d like to — but it may be rather difficult.


JOE (his eyes on the pail with the shells) I only come ashore twice a day — when the tide goes out. SUGAR Oh?

JOE It’s on the account of the shells. That’s my hobby.

SUGAR You collect shells?

JOE (taking a handful of shells from the pail) Yes. So did my father and my grandfather — we’ve all had this passion for shells — that’s why we named the oil company after it.

SUGAR (wide-eyed) Shell Oil?

JOE Please — no names. Just call me Junior.





[Marilyn Monroe – I`m Through With Love]








[Some Like It Hot – Secuencia final]


[Secuencia final – Guión literario extraído del script original]


  1. INT. LOBBY – NIGHT.                  91.


Joe and Jerry bolt out of the rear corridor, go pounding up

the stairs, followed by two of the officials.  As they

disappear from sight, CAMERA PANS OVER to the elevator.

The door opens, and out step Joe and Jerry, wearing their

wigs and girls’ coats.


As the boys mince daintily toward the front door, they see

the other two officials coming toward them.  They change

their course abruptly.  The first two officials come hurrying

down the stairs.



They slipped right through our hands.



Don’t worry.  We got our guys watching

the railroad station, the roads, the airport –

they can’t get away.



(to Joe, in a

hoarse whisper)

Did you hear that?



Yeah, but they’re not watching yachts.

Come on – you’re going to call Osgood.


He steers Jerry toward a row of telephone booths near the

entrance to the ballroom.  There is an easel sign outside

announcing that Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators are

appearing nightly in the Peacock Room, and from inside

comes the SOUND of MUSIC.



What’ll I tell him?



Tell him you’re going to elope with him.



Elope?  But there are laws – conventions –



(jerking his thumb

over his shoulder)


There’s a convention, all right.  There’s

also the ladies’ morgue.


He shoves Jerry toward a phone booth.  Jerry reaches under

his coat for a coin, revealing the rolled up trousers of the

Bellhop uniform underneath.


As he steps into the phone booth, Joe becomes aware of the

SOUND of sugar’s VOICE drifting up from the ballroom.  She

is singing «I’M THROUGH WITH LOVE.»  Almost despite

himself, Joe finds himself drawn toward the ballroom



  1. INT. BALLROOM – NIGHT.                     92.


Joe appears in the vestibule at the top of the stairs, looks



From his point of view, we see Sugar perched on top of the

piano, bathed in a spotlight.  She is a little drunk, and more

than a little blue, and she is singing the lyrics with

heartbreaking conviction.


Joe, watching her from the landing, is deeply moved.

Slowly, he starts down the steps.


One the bandstand, Sugar is winding up the torchy ballad,

when suddenly Joe steps into the spotlight.  Without a word,

he takes her in his arms, kisses her.






Nearby, Sweet Sue is watching open-mouthed.






Bienstock, who is standing near the reservation desk, turns

and peer myopically toward the bandstand.  At the same

time, two of the convention officials come up behind him.




Hey – that’s no dame!


He and his companion rush toward the bandstand.


On the bandstand, Joe is brushing a tear away from

Sugar’s cheek.



(in a male voice)

None of that, Sugar – no guy is worth it.


He catches sight of the two officials bearing down on him,

leaping from the bandstand, shoulders his way through the

couples on the dance floor.  With the two officials on his

heels, Joe gallops up the stairs.


On the bandstand, all is confusion, as the girls stop playing

and stand up.  Sugar is staring after Joe in complete






Suddenly it dawns on her – that kiss!  Her eyes widen, her

hand flies to her mouth, and she looks with growing

comprehension at the bracelet on her wrist.


  1. INT. LOBBY – NIGHT.                  93.


Jerry is just stepping out of the phone booth when Joe

bursts out of the ballroom entrance.



It’s all fixed!  Osgood is meeting us

on the pier –



We’re not on the pier yet –


He grabs Jerry, and they take off across the lobby, as their

pursuers appear behind them.


The boys head for the front door, but finding their way

blocked by the other two officials, they reverse their field

and hotfoot it toward the rear corridor.  The four officials

converge on their trail.


Joe and Jerry charge down the rear corridor, go skidding

around the corner.  As the officials come tooling after them,

two ambulance attendants round the turn in the corridor,

pushing a wheeled stretcher.  On the slap is a boy, covered

with a sheet that hangs down the sides, and sticking out

from the end of the sheet are a pair of spat-covered shoes.

The four officials make way for this grisly cargo, then

resume the chase.


As the ambulance attendants wheel the stretcher toward

the lobby, the trailing sheet lifts up, and Joe and Jerry, who

have been clinging to the under-carriage, hop out.  They

tear across the lobby and scoot out the front door.




  1. EXT. PIER – NIGHT.                      94.


Osgood is waiting impatiently on the pier.  He hears

something, looks off toward the beach.


Jerry and Joe, still wearing their wigs and girls’ coats, come

scrambling down the steps, race across the planking

toward the pier.


On the pier, Osgood’s face lights up.  Jerry comes puffing

up the stairs, followed by Joe.



This is my friend Josephine – she’s

going to be a bridesmaid.



Pleased to meet you.



(grabbing him)

Come one!


He practically drags Osgood down the stairs leading to the




(over his shoulder, to Joe)

She’s so eager!


Swooping down from the beach on a bicycle comes Sugar,

pumping like mad.  The bicycle bounces down the steps, and

Sugar pedals across the planking, sounding her HORN.


Osgood and Jerry have settled themselves in the front seat

of the motorboat, and Joe is getting into the rear seat when

he hears the SOUND of the bicycle HORN.  He looks back.

Osgood starts the motor.  Sugar comes racing up the stairs

tot he pier, leans over the railing.



(calling down)

Wait for Sugar!


She hurries toward the other staircase.


In the motorboat, Osgood turns to Jerry.



Another bridesmaid?



Flower girl.


Sugar comes charging down the stairs, starts to get into the

rear seat beside Joe.



Sugar!  What do you think you’re doing?



I told you – I’m not very bright.



(clapping Osgood

on the back)

Let’s go!


The motorboat takes off with a ROAR.



  1. EXT. MOTORBOAT – NIGHT.                 95.


In the back seat, Joe is removing his wig and coat.



You don’t want me, Sugar – I’m a liar and

a phony – a saxophone player – one of

those no-goodnicks you’ve been

running away from –



I know.

(hitting her head)

Every time!



Do yourself a favor – go back where the

millionaires are – the sweet end of the

lollipop – not the cole slaw in the face

and the old socks and the squeezed-out

tube of toothpaste –



That’s right – pour it on.

(twines her arms

around his neck)

Talk me out of it.


She kisses him resoundingly, bending him over backwards

till they are both practically out of sight.


Up front, Osgood is blithely steering the boat, keeping his

eyes straight ahead.  Jerry is looking over his shoulder at

the activities in the back seat.



I called Mama – she was so happy she

cried – she wants you to have her

wedding gown – it’s white lace.



(steeling himself)

Osgood – I can’t get married in your

mother’s dress.  She and I – we’ not

built the same way.



We can have it altered.




Oh, no you don’t!  Look, Osgood – I’m

going to level with you. We can’t get

married at all.



Why not?



Well, to begin with, I’m not

a natural blonde.




It doesn’t matter.



And I smoke. I smoke all the time.



I don’t care.



And I have a terrible past.  For three

years now, I’ve been living with a

saxophone player.



I forgive you.



(with growing desperation)

And I can never have children.



We’ll adopt some.



But you don’t understand!

(he rips off his wig;

in a male voice)

I’m a MAN!




Well – nobody’s perfect.


Jerry looks at Osgood, who is grinning from ear to ear,

claps his hand to his forehead.  How is he going to get

himself out of this?


But that’s another story [2] – and we’re not quite sure the

public is ready for it.









[2] But that’s another story es, claro está, la frase con la que Moustache solía finalizar sus intervenciones en Irma la dulce. Aquí, Billy Wilder gasta una broma saltándose la cronología.





Categories: Cinematografía