Archive for Groucho Marx

(Horse) Without Feathers

Posted in FILM, MUSIC with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 9, 2017 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-10h20m44s294

As regular Shadowplayers may recall, I’ve been reviewing the films of the Marx Bros and writing about those aspects of them which do not involve the Marx Bros. Picture a Richard J. Anobile book that’s been mutilated by some scissor-wielding schoolboy.

I already wrote about HORSE FEATHERS once, before starting on this scheme. Here we go again. We haven’t watched this one as often as, say, DUCK SOUP — of course, the reason is plain: no Margaret Dumont. Or maybe the reason is related to what Fiona said at the end: “That was really shambolic!” “Even by their standards!” I added.

Perhaps it’s the unusual spliciness of the print, the lack of any real romantic subplot, the slenderness of the main plot… but the wear and tear is not unique to this movie, the minimal love interest should be a boon, and the best Marx films are not known for labouring over narrative. Anyhow, the film is composed mainly of classic scenes — the ending is a bit rocky, but Groucho has a signature song, the “Swordfish” routine is classic Chico-Groucho crosstalk, there’s a great farce bit, and the canoe sequence is a joy. No more of that.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-10h21m40s721

We begin with a scary cartoon horse which rides out of a college building and then vanishes, a laughing wraith. The rest of the movie is less frightening. Fiona commented on the crudeness of the caricatures that follow, but they’re both simple and highly identifiable. I like ’em.

First up is Reginald Barlow as the retiring college president, a testosterone-free pillar of patrician dignity, about to be destroyed by the incoming Quincy Addams Wagstaff. Surprising to learn that this embodiment of effete academicism was a hero of three wars. A perennial bit player, his career does boast a few characters with names, one of them quite Marxian: Otto K. Bullwinkle in IF I HAD A MILLION. Fiona was much more wide awake than I during this screening, and spotted that, after being apparently annihilated by Groucho’s opening salvo, the unflappable ex-prez retires to his seat and quietly reads a book all through Groucho’s big number.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-10h22m15s793

Barlow is the only beardless professor at Huxley College, it seems. Nice the way the staff all get mesmerised by Groucho’s song into playing the role of a minstrel chorus. Similar to the way Bugs Bunny, leaping onto Elmer Fudd’s back, convinces him instantly that he’s a donkey (and Bugs was in large part modelled on Groucho).

Zeppo appears, to no particular effect this time, though we note his strong singing voice. But I’d rather hear Groucho’s quavering warble. Casting Zeppo as Groucho’s son (“Hello, old-timer!”) is an amusing idea, and using Z. as a sort of romantic interest substitute (sex pablum) is economical. Young Z. also delivers the expositional info-dump about football that sets the “narrative” in motion. We’re off!

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-10h25m25s728

Oh, before we leave — the Marxes’ career sometimes looks like one long, successful attempt to prove wrong that thing Rosalind Russell supposedly said — “You can’t do comedy on big sets.” Here, there are no grand art deco constructs, except the opening scene, which is no more impressive than it needs to be. Cost-cutting at Paramount?

Director/traffic cop Norman Z. McLeod begins each sequence with a sign so we know where we are. Probably Pauline Kael would attribute this rigorous visual storytelling to the uncredited script contribution by Herman J. Mankiewicz. Next up is the Elm Street speakeasy where villain David Landau is recruiting two professional ball players for the rival college’s team. Since I started thinking about this stuff I’ve noticed how grating and uncharismatic the bad guys in Marx films tend to be. I’m now ready to launch my Unified Theory: since the Marx Bros’ characters are themselves larcenous, lustful and conniving, it’s necessary for the baddies to distinguish themselves by adding to those qualities a positive charmlessness. The overall message of every Marx Bros film can be taken to be that villainy is fine if accomplished with wit and panache.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-10h49m55s861

The field of Marxian antagonists is crowded with displeasing performers. Why, Louis “the walking fontanelle” Calhern stands out in such company as uniquely compelling and gracious. Still, among this throng of snarling plug-uglies and decaying louts who lack even a moustache to twirl, David Landau as Jennings stands out as uniquely unpleasant. His signature role, completed the same year as H.F., is the brutal warden in I AM A FUGITIVE FROM A CHAIN GANG. What a face. I’d say it’s the kind of face you’d like to hit, only I think we’d all be afraid of losing our fist in its putty-like recesses.

I used to be convinced this was Martin Landau’s dad. I think I just assumed there couldn’t be two Landaus. It only just struck me to check. I say it for the record: they are no relation. So shaken am I by this revelation, I had to look up Osgood Perkins to make sure of him. It’s OK: he was indeed Anthony’s poppa.

With Landau are Nat Pendleton, another charmer, and James Pierce, the most handsome of the bunch but equally lacking in the mystery quality known as Appeal. He was married to the daughter of Edgar Rice Burroughs, it seems, but despite this never got to insinuate his hulking frame into the role of Tarzan (see comments). His best role, going by the name alone, is Griswell Henchman in something called THE LIGHTNING EXPRESS. I like to think this is not a mere description, but the actual character’s birth name.

Pendleton (OK, I checked: not the father of Austin Pendleton) was a wrestling champ, but his uncle was an actor for Griffith. He also co-wrote one movie, DECEPTION, made this same year, and also co-starring Thelma Todd, who we’re about to meet. Inexplicably, he failed to write himself the lead role. Nat, of course, got second helpings of the Marx treatment as the strongman in AT THE CIRCUS. His swan song was opposite Abbot & Costello, cementing his stooge status, and twenty years later he was fatally attacked by his own heart two days after I was born, so I can say with confidence that I am not his reincarnation.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h04m12s124

Also among those gathered: Vince Barnett, a very funny man with nothing to do. Harpo is about to appear, baffling a series of characters who all look like the same actor, but aren’t. This clone effect is enhanced when director McLeod incompetently cuts around a payphone customer, making it seem like he’s two different guys. The payphone man is regular bit-player Sid Saylor, the hobo harpo hands a cup of coffee to is an authentic Forgotten Man — history, and the IMDb, do not record his identity.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h05m46s027

Theresa Harris sighting! Playing a maid, as usual, although this time she has a name, Laura. Of her ninety listed roles on the IMDb, thirty-four are explicitly identified as maids, but I imagine characters with names like “Clementine” and “Bessie Mae” MIGHT also be maids. Still, my heart is always brightened by a Theresa Harris appearance.

Then we finally get La Todd. Thelma wears a series of racy costumes in this, starting with the negligee in which she entertains Zeppo for the unavoidable crooning display. He feeds her lomticks of toast while literally singing “I Love You” — this HKalmar/Ruby tune is the film’s endlessly reprised bit, performed by each brother in turn. Is it OK to discuss Zeppo here? I sometimes consider him an honorary non-Marx Brother, so it should be fair play to talk about him in these Marxless articles.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h37m02s216

Fiona suggests that Thelma’s beauty spot vanishes from scene to scene, like the cartoon horse at the beginning. Let’s see if she’s right.

Thelma had memorably gone hotcha! with Groucho in MONKEY BUSINESS and it’s a pleasure to have her back. An interesting career, alternating between low comedy with the Marxes and Laurel & Hardy and Charley Chase and a short-lived comedy pairing of her own with Patsy Kelly, and substantial roles in “straight” films. Thelma was tragically short-lived herself, her carbon monoxide death a subject of wild speculation to this day. Husband Roland West, director of THE BAT WHISPERS, is one named suspect. How she found time to get married and run “Thelma Todd’s Sidewalk Café” is a mystery too: 119 films in ten years.

Harpo, as a dog-catcher with a horse, is surrounded by animals, regularly producing cute specimens as mute punchlines to some remark by Chico. His horse has no name and the IMDb is uninformative on the subject. McLeod and his editor are almost in too much of a hurry to let us register the parrot and monkey on Harpo’s cart. Ben Taggart, a Central casting traffic cop, plays a traffic cop bamboozled by Harpo. McLeod should have considered making a Hitchcockian cameo in the role.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h21m48s053

Harpo also eats flowers, like Leos Carax’s recurring character, Merde. There may be a connection. Also: oatmeal from the horse’s feedbag (sprinkled with salt) and a zip-up banana.

Groucho’s desk is covered with walnuts, and I belatedly realize this may actually be the influence for the walnut-bedecked office in Bertolucci’s THE CONFORMIST. After all, both are 1930s tales of academia and corruption with a surrealistic edge. Flanking Groucho are E.H. Calvert (also a prolific director) and Edward LeSaint, swiftly disposed of, then we get Harpo burning books and then bringing in a seal, whose barking, wiggling presence immediately turns Groucho, Harpo and Chico into seals too. Suggestible fellows.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h50m26s136

Also worthy of remark: Wagstaff’s secretary, played woodenly by Sheila Bromley, delivering possibly the worst line readings of anyone in a Marxian film (“He’s waxing wrath”). And it doesn’t matter at all. Sheila turned into a perfectly good character actor. Her last role is Alan Rudolph’s disgraceful early exploitation film, BARN OF THE NAKED DEAD, in which they spell her name wrong. A shame.

Robert Greig turns up as a bearded tutor. The butler from SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS, he’s also the butler in ANIMAL CRACKERS. That was a proper role, whereas Greig is more suited to playing archetypes — butlers who embody their profession. He doesn’t suit his beard, that’s for sure. And I don’t like the pseudo-medical gibberish he’s spouting — if Groucho is going to denounce it as gibberish, it should feel like it actually has some abstruse meaning. We most recently saw Greig in John Cromwell’s SON OF FURY, playing a judge, and while a judge is not a butler, it proved to be within his range.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h45m18s744

Harpo produces a drawing of a horse. We’ve already seen him kiss his own horse, so the theme of Harpo as horselover, which climaxes in DUCK SOUP, is clearly established. Harpo later produces a piece of pin-up art showing a hefty vaudevillian lady, and there’s a suggestion that horses and women are interchangeable for Harpo, especially as he keeps sitting on women in class.

Harpo’s candle burning at both ends is, I think, my favourite Harpo prop. It fulfills all the requirements — it is funny in itself, it’s a punchline to someone else’s remark, it’s impossible that it could be stored in his raincoat (which is inexplicably tattered throughout), and for good measure it is in itself almost impossible.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-11h57m34s642

Thelma is back, minus her beauty spot. Fiona was right! “I keep thinking her tits are going to fall out of that dress,” she says, and again, she is right, though it doesn’t seem to quite happen on camera.

Through the miracle of bad continuity, Groucho’s chin is suddenly on Thelma’s shoulder, something the Red Queen does to Alice in Through the Looking Glass.

At other times, the continuity is perfect, pretty much proving that Mcleod is using multiple cameras, common during early sound pictures and a sensible idea when dealing with the disruptive Marxes — “It was a miracle if you could get all of them on a set at the same time,” recalled Buster Keaton.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h03m30s506

Chico’s grabbiness here is a LITTLE disturbing. On the whole, the Bros’ skirt-chasing hasn’t dated too badly — we don’t worry about what Harpo would do if he caught a girl. But Thelma’s decolletage is so exposing, and her performance relatively convincing by the standards of these things, so all the lunging feels a little unpleasant. Easier to pull off with Margaret Dumont.

Chico’s rendition of “Everyone Says I Love You” hits on the theme of insect life and exploits it thoroughly, before moving on to the adventures of “Christopher Columbo.” Good lyrics. Thelma’s reactions turn this into probably Chico’s most welcome, least interruptive musical number.

Mcleod’s “blocking” is functional, letting us see the Marxes, which is all that really matters, but it’s neither elegant nor convincing. He’s rather fond of the “washing line” composition, and sets things up so that Landau suddenly gets suspicious of Chico’s behaviour despite being positioned so he can’t see any of it.

Harpo’s harp solo is, as usual, a full stop, a grinding gear change the film struggles to survive.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h15m40s815

As a hormonal teen I was fascinated (yet frustrated) by the second appearance of Thelma’s negligee (the film IS cheap — customarily, the leading lady is entitled to a fresh outfit for every scene). Anyway, the lower half seems to be translucent, with no hint of underwear. But no hint of anything else, either. However, her mole has returned to her face, like a tiny black homing pigeon.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h19m44s563

Slightly stilted performance by a duck. I wasn’t immediately convinced. But this makes this not only the only Paramount film to justify its title with actual appearances by the title animal, but one that looks forward to a later title too. At the end of this brilliant sequence (in which Groucho refers to Paramount’s AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY while canoeing through probably the same body of water featured in Sternberg’s drama), the duck is somehow inside the canoe, but I bet only Fiona spotted it, so rushed is the fade-out. Theory: the Marxes probably broke character the second a scene was finished, leaving the editor no spare footage for optical transitions. Or else Thelma couldn’t swim…

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h24m19s692

In the water, Thelma seems to be wearing lacy sleeves, which she was NOT wearing before falling in. Continuity in the Marx Bros universe is not only outrageously poor, it is often INEXPLICABLY poor.

Has her mole washed off?

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h24m08s337

Another animal: Harpo’s surprise piglet. Harpo’s hat, which formerly said DOG-CATCHER on the front, has now been reversed and his new job title, KIDNAPPER, is listed.

Pendleton and Pierce’s bijou apartment seems all wrong. I couldn’t work out why. It’s an astonishingly shoddy-looking set, and maybe the in-character presence of sporting trophies is contributing to the air of it being assembled from whatever was lying loose in the property store. But I think the truly bum note is struck by the presence of SIX BOOKS on a shelf. I find it easier to believe in Harpo carrying as lit candle and a steaming cup of coffee inside his coat than in these thugs reading.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h28m20s821

Big football finish, about which I have nothing to say. We disbar all sporting activity here at Shadowplay. But I do like Thelma’s vamp outfit. MONKEY BUSINESS forgets she exists, and HORSE FEATHERS nearly does too, but at least she’s part of the crowd, and then gets to appear in the coda, which comes out of left field, to use what I believe is an old footballing expression.

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h32m13s248

This coda, one realises only later (thanks to Shadowplayer Matthew Hahn) is supposed to fool us into thinking Thelma is marrying Zeppo, until the other brothers/father/strangers barge in. But McLeod, that genius, stages the action with the groom completely eclipsed, so the gag looks like G, H and C are marrying T right from the start. It’s possible Zeppo was occupied elsewhere that day, as we are told the brothers frequently were. But his presence for the film’s closing shot would seem to be essential…

vlcsnap-2017-02-09-12h41m22s550

Three men piling on top of Thelma SHOULD be a bit disturbing as a final fade-out, but through the miracle of Marxian anarchy, somehow it’s fine.

 

 

 

 

Happy Without Love

Posted in Dance, FILM, MUSIC with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 2, 2016 by dcairns

1f3z3h

So, for some time I’ve been writing about the Marx Bros films, writing around the Bros themselves and focussing on supporting players, scenery etc. For The Late Show, this left me several options — I could write about A NIGHT IN CASABLANCA, the last film in which all three brothers appeared in the same frame, or about THE STORY OF MANKIND, the last film to feature all three brothers (albeit in separate scenes: blame anti-genius Irwin Allen for that bright idea). But I’m choosing to focus on LOVE HAPPY, which features Harpo, Chico and Groucho in that order, and allows the brothers to interact in pairs (although Groucho is never actually in the same shot as Chico, suspiciously enough).

As a Marx film, this one suits my purposes admirably, crammed as it is with other items of (slight) interest. The behind-the-scenes credits are interesting in themselves. For starters, it calls itself a Mary Pickford Production, though how hands-on was she? The director is David Miller, who had a long career with really only one distinguished film that I can see — but SUDDEN FEAR is a pretty good one to be remembered for, although Joan Crawford and Jack Palance are about as different from the Marx Bros as you could ask. Co-writer is Frank Tashlin, and though the film isn’t good enough to be called wholly Tashlinesque, there are a great many sequences that harken forward to his later work.

vlcsnap-2016-11-30-19h21m36s946

Tashlin’s cowriter is Mac Benoff (me neither) but the IMDb ascribes no less than four uncredited subsidiary hacks to the project, including William “News on the March” Alland and no less than Ben Hecht. This can’t explain the scenario’s lacklustre qualities, unless Hecht was rewritten by Alland, but it does explain its incoherence (Chico affects not to know Harpo, then greets him as an old friend). Songwriter Ann Ronnell was probably responsible more for the musical content, while Harry D’Abadie D’Arrast had been an assistant to Chaplin so maybe they figured he’d be good at visual gags. And hey, it’s also Harry’s last screen credit. A last Film twice over. Harpo is credited with the idea.

Choreography is by Billy Daniels, longterm partner of Mitchell Leisen, and it’s pretty good. Which leads us to Vera-Ellen, Miss Turnstiles herself, who deserves to rank quite high among Marx Bros leading ladies, not for the acting scenes which are indifferently written and impossible to excel in, but her dancing is great and the Sadie Thompson number, in particular, passes muster as a decent musical interlude, something Marxian romps hadn’t exactly excelled in. Of course, one would prefer NO musical interludes if that led to more high-quality Marxian hi-jinks, but those are a touch thin on the ground here so one will take any entertainment one can get.

vlcsnap-2016-11-30-19h20m33s443

The supporting cast is unusually strong. True, nominal leading man Paul Valentine is nothing much, but we get Ilona Massey, AKA Elsa Von Frankenstein as vamp, “wearing the pants of the dreaded cat woman,” as Groucho’s VO puts it. She has two henchmen, Alphonse and Hannibal, but her thick accent renders the latter as “Honeybar.” The former is Raymond Burr, bringing a welcome touch of film noir to come. A few years of henching and he’ll be set to be a mob boss in an Anthony Mann B-picture.

vlcsnap-2016-11-30-19h19m22s930

Marion Hutton, Melville Cooper and Leon Belasco provide supporting comic action, and Burt Lancaster’s old circus sidekick Nick Cravat doubles Harpo in the numerous acrobatic stunt sequences. Eric Blore shows up for no reason and all too briefly. The filmmakers seem to have the idea that the Marxes need supporting clowns, when what they really need is second and third bananas. The absence of Margaret Dumont is felt. An apoplectic heavy like Sig Rumann or Louis Calhern (the walking fontanelle) would have gone a long way. Even the uncharismatic, grating bad guys of the MGM films would have been very useful.

vlcsnap-2016-12-02-10h44m36s199

Best known of the supporting attractions is Marilyn Monroe, whose character comes from nowhere and vanishes whence she came, and exists only to give Groucho someone worth leering at and quipping over. Supposedly the producers gave Groucho his pick of three hopefuls for the role. “Are you kidding?” he is said to have said, implying that Marilyn was the shoe-in. In terms of looks and what Billy Wilder would call “flesh impact” (or Fleischeffekt), this is certainly true. Acting-wise, without a John Huston to support her, she seems a little uncertain in some line readings, but what the hell. Monroe and Groucho on-screen together is the movie’s raison d’être,

There are other highlights, though. I’ll post my favourite scene later.

An early bit with Burr and his fellow henchie roughing up Cooper is weirdly disturbing and unfunny — Frank Tashlin seems to have believed people getting beaten up by thugs was inherently amusing — see also HOLLYWOOD OR BUST. The protracted but intermittently interesting rooftop climax features a smoking billboard — shades of ARTISTS AND MODELS. Tashlin’s brushwork can also be detected in the surreal, cartoony use made of neon signs by Harpo, who at once point evinces the ability to teleport whenever the illumination blinks off. Salvador Dali wrote an unfilmed treatment for the Marxes, GIRAFFES ON HORSEBACK SALAD, which is a lot of ill-judged nonsense and proves he really didn’t understand what was going on in their films. Unable to follow the comic logic (which is pretty language-based, and Dali’s English was worse than Chico’s), he saw only chaos. That’s kind of what bits of this climax are like. Proper comedy cohesion is lacking.

vlcsnap-2016-11-30-19h19m49s703

Harpo as Godzilla is an intriguing thought, though.

Still, while long stretches of this unfondly-remembered pic are eye-rollingly dull and unfunny, bits were a lot better than we remembered. With low enough expectations, the film can be pleasing. It’s like the logical next step down from THE BIG STORE, I guess. It’s like A NIGHT IN CASABLANCA never happened.

The Big Nothing

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 4, 2016 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h35m51s858

It’s all here in this image — the Marx Bros are behind bars. Everything is cluttered and unclear, with too many elements poorly organized, and a big empty space in the upper right. The title is slapped on top of Groucho. They can’t even find room for Harpo. This film is in trouble already.

THE BIG STORE is the second Marx Brothers film I suddenly realized existed, that I had never seen. The title came to me as I was nodding off one night, and in the morning I IMDb’d it and learned that yes, there was such a film. How can one Marx Bros fan, married to another Marx Bros fan, be so slack on such things? It’s not as if there anywhere near enough Marx Bros films in the world.

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h36m11s747

The supporting cast: mannequins. The leading lady has no head, and nothing below the waist. Margaret Dumont is a man. Dumbrille is a bust.

Sadly, TBS is no ROOM SERVICE. It’s the last film from the Bros’ MGM period, and is a very sloppy piece of writing. Again, the studio throws in big sets and lavish musical numbers, which were never really essential — though it helps to have a glossy backdrop for the boys to demolish, I guess. But the script is pretty bad, with few memorable lines, tons of padding, and lots of downright bad visual comedy — and this from the director credited with Buster Keaton’s COLLEGE and STEAMBOAT BILL JNR.

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h39m38s045

Groucho this time is a detective, (as he would be again in LOVE HAPPY) Wolf J. Flywheel , Chico is Ravelli and Harpo is Whacky. The recycling of names may suggest desperation (how hard can it be to come up with Grouchoesque names? Julius T. Hambone; Housely Q. Pinochle; Webster V. Grift; Morton P. Fingersmith; I’m not even trying here), and the plotting certainly does. Having selected a department store as setting, the army of writers struggle to integrate musical numbers, suspense, and comedy. The bland hero this time (Tony Martin) is a singer/songwriter who just wants to sell the store he’s inherited so he can open a conservatory, a project mooted in scene one and then basically forgotten about. A bunch of kids have been trained to play piano like Chico, a decent gag, and they’re all excited about the new conservatory: “New conservatory, new conseravatory,” they rhubarb unconvincingly. We’ll never see them again either.

Margaret Dumont is a beloved aunt, with no real role in the plot, but Groucho can romance her and annoy villain Douglas Dumbrille, which is of course essential. Dumbrille is repeating his shitheel role from A DAY AT THE RACES, but the movie has him spend an inordinate amount of time flying through the air, replace by a stand-in (or dangle-in). This movie has more wirework than a Shaw Bros wuxia. Dumbrille is joined by various colourless stooges, of which the best is Bradley Page, underplaying briskly. But he has no reason to be in the movie. The stooges multiply like rabbits, but unlike rabbits they never seem to do anything useful.

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h39m45s286

Dumbrille’s plot to cover up his cooking of the store’s books soon involves plans for kidnapping and murder: he even hints that he’ll off Margaret Dumont after marrying her. This is all de trop. It’s not really in keeping with the world of the department store.

Neither are the songs. Groucho gets the uninspired “Sing as you sell,” which affords pleasing bits for novelty acts Six Hits and a Miss, the Four Dreamers (no MGM Marx film is apparently complete without an embarrassing reference to cotton fields redolent with ante bellum slavery nostalgia) and best by far, Virginia O’Brien, the deadpan comedy singer. Tony Martin croons a ballad and then a bit of faux Gerswhin nonsense called Tenement Symphony, performed by orchestra and choir in the store as part of… what? The “ceremony” that accompanies his selling of the store. MGM musicals shouldn’t NEED lame naturalistic excuses for characters to burst into song.

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h40m36s615

Marion “blonde menace” Martin plays vamp, very briefly, but her vamp act consists of pretending to be a snooty music journalist. Are we outsmarting a vamp or deposing a snob? Does robbing a snob of dignity count when they’re only pretending to be a snob? And why bring her in for one skit only to forget about her?

Nat Perrin is credited with the story: he had a hand in HELLZAPOPPIN and contributed dialogue to DUCK SOUP, so I’m disinclined to blame him too much. but this is shoddy work by someone, probably a whole heap of someones. Writing visual gags for Harpo can’t be too hard, since he’s allowed to violate the laws of God and man, but he needs a sensible set of surroundings whose reality he can disrupt. Every time the movie requires him to do something, it throws in props that have no reason to be there. The usual deadly harp solo is performed in an eighteenth century room with mannequins in period garb: why does this room exist? When vases are smashed in a bit of slapstick, Dumbrille refers to them as “priceless antiques.” Why were they in a store? Why is there a moose head? Is it Chico’s from ROOM SERVICE, the one he “ate up to the neck”? What are THESE?

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h42m36s657

A few cameos of interest (discounting the physiognomic startle effect attendant on any appearance by Dewey Robinson). Clara Blandick, Auntie Em, from THE WIZARD OF OZ, turns up as a Tony Martin fan (believable). Silent star/director King Baggot is in there somewhere. Come to think of it, “King Baggot” would make a good name for a Groucho character. And the movie ends with Charles Lane, so good in TWENTIETH CENTURY, repossessing Groucho’s ancient car, a “gag” which never actually develops beyond the fact of a car being repossessed: not a gag at all, then.

Songwriter/producer Sid Kuller is probably a bad influence on the script, as is Ray Golden, another songwriter, and Hal Fimberg is the future creator of Derek Flint, so he doesn’t seem like the right kind of guy to have on a Marx picture. The IMDb says George Oppenheimer made uncredited contributions, and he had worked on the two best MGM Marx films, RACES and OPERA, but he was about to help end Garbo’s career with TWO-FACED WOMAN the following year.

vlcsnap-2016-10-04-08h40m57s251

The movie has more writers than it has Marx Brothers, which would be fine if they were fighting on the same side, but every MGM movie with the Bros. is something of a battlefield in which Thalberg’s idea of classy entertainment and Mayer’s idea of family values comes up against the very spirit of what the Marx Bros should be all about — chaos. In this movie, depressingly, MGM wins.