Director: Leo McCarey
Writers: Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, Arthur Sheekman, Nat Perrin
Photography: Henry Sharp
Music: John Leipold
Editor: LeRoy Stone
Cast: Marx Brothers (Groucho Marx, Chico Marx, Harpo Marx, Zeppo Marx), Margaret Dumont, Louis Calhern, Edgar Kennedy, Raquel Torres
Classic comedies from the 1930s tend to befuddle me some. The lifelong familiarity of the Little Rascals, Laurel & Hardy, the Marx Brothers, and all the others, with the primitive '30s technology, provide a certain comfort, recalling late nights and early Saturday morning appointment TV reruns. But I don't actually laugh very much at these comedies, at least not on my own. The way I like to see them best is in crowded theaters where all the laughter is infectious. But if you can even find a well-attended screening of Duck Soup somewhere at the moment, I probably wouldn't go. There's the rub.
Duck Soup generally seems to be regarded as the best Marx Brothers movie, highest-ranked on the big list at They Shoot Pictures, Don't They? and on lots of google search results. And yes, seeing it again recently (alone at my computer, periodically checking email), I can see the case for that even if Chico doesn't get a piano scene, which I missed, and Harpo's harp-playing (which I missed less) is limited to a few seconds on a grand piano's strings. The plot hangs together better than most. Margaret Dumont, who should be considered a Marx Brother, is her usual stiff-necked society dame straight man. And Groucho's compulsive logorrhea is in peak form: Gentlemen, Chicolini here may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but don't let that fool you: he really is an idiot. I implore you, send him back to ...
Classic comedies from the 1930s tend to befuddle me some. The lifelong familiarity of the Little Rascals, Laurel & Hardy, the Marx Brothers, and all the others, with the primitive '30s technology, provide a certain comfort, recalling late nights and early Saturday morning appointment TV reruns. But I don't actually laugh very much at these comedies, at least not on my own. The way I like to see them best is in crowded theaters where all the laughter is infectious. But if you can even find a well-attended screening of Duck Soup somewhere at the moment, I probably wouldn't go. There's the rub.
Duck Soup generally seems to be regarded as the best Marx Brothers movie, highest-ranked on the big list at They Shoot Pictures, Don't They? and on lots of google search results. And yes, seeing it again recently (alone at my computer, periodically checking email), I can see the case for that even if Chico doesn't get a piano scene, which I missed, and Harpo's harp-playing (which I missed less) is limited to a few seconds on a grand piano's strings. The plot hangs together better than most. Margaret Dumont, who should be considered a Marx Brother, is her usual stiff-necked society dame straight man. And Groucho's compulsive logorrhea is in peak form: Gentlemen, Chicolini here may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but don't let that fool you: he really is an idiot. I implore you, send him back to ...
... his father and brothers, who are waiting for him with open arms in the penitentiary. I suggest that we give him ten years in Leavenworth, or eleven years in Twelveworth.
We'll check in with him again. He never really stops. The plot, such as it is, involves border conflicts between Freedonia and Sylvania. Groucho as Rufus T. Firefly has been called upon by society dame Gloria Teasdale (Dumont) to run Freedonia as its executive head of state. "Well, that covers a lot of ground," Firefly says to her. "Say, you cover a lot of ground yourself."
You can leave in a taxi. If you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that's too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff. You know, you haven't stopped talking since I came here? You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle.
He is the typical Groucho character—lecherous, heedless, a fool who cannot stop talking. He slyly makes fun of others but is obviously a nitwit himself. But he's often funny in rapid-fire bursts that sometimes register late. He forces the comedy tempo with his barrages. One of the best scenes here involves Chico and Harpo dressing up as Groucho to fool Margaret Dumont. The predictable chaos erupts, culminating in a brilliant long scene with a faux mirror that is rendered in utter silence—1933 was still too early for room tone, apparently, but oddly the silence gives the sequence emphasis.
Speaking of silence, one of my favorite things about the Marx Brothers is Harpo's silence, which I believe he never broke on film. He expresses himself with an obnoxious horn and a bunsen burner and he is amazing at physical comedy. He moves like a stage magician. He has a bit where he keeps getting people to hold him by the thigh. It's funny because it's senseless and he keeps getting away with it. People keep finding themselves holding his thigh again and push it away in exasperation.
I'm going to have to tell on this movie a little as the term "darkies" comes up and the big musical number toward the end includes Negro spirituals for some reason. "Oh! Susanna" is another part of the medley. I mean, yes, I know 1933 was also too early for racial sensitivities. But it's the casual insensitivity that's most jarring. The sexism is even more blatant and obviously acceptable, so even worse in a way.
Calling all nations. Calling all nations. This is Rufus T. Firefly coming to you through the courtesy of the enemy. We're in a mess folks, we're in a mess. Rush to Freedonia! Three men and one woman are trapped in a building! Send help at once! If you can't send help, send two more women! Make it three more women!
I really missed a Chico piano bit, typically one of my favorite parts of Marx Brothers movies, but Duck Soup has a more coherent storyline than most of the others so I guess that makes it forgivable. The Marx Brothers chaos permeates even the filmmaking itself, as seen late in the movie with a "help is on the way!" montage that shows elephants, rowing crews, porpoises, and such all rushing to aid Freedonia.
I have to admit the invasion of Ukraine by Russia took some of the fun out of this movie along with the dated aspects. It is, after all, predicated on war between neighboring states. But I still hope I can see it someday again in a riotous crowded theater.
We'll check in with him again. He never really stops. The plot, such as it is, involves border conflicts between Freedonia and Sylvania. Groucho as Rufus T. Firefly has been called upon by society dame Gloria Teasdale (Dumont) to run Freedonia as its executive head of state. "Well, that covers a lot of ground," Firefly says to her. "Say, you cover a lot of ground yourself."
You can leave in a taxi. If you can't get a taxi, you can leave in a huff. If that's too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff. You know, you haven't stopped talking since I came here? You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle.
He is the typical Groucho character—lecherous, heedless, a fool who cannot stop talking. He slyly makes fun of others but is obviously a nitwit himself. But he's often funny in rapid-fire bursts that sometimes register late. He forces the comedy tempo with his barrages. One of the best scenes here involves Chico and Harpo dressing up as Groucho to fool Margaret Dumont. The predictable chaos erupts, culminating in a brilliant long scene with a faux mirror that is rendered in utter silence—1933 was still too early for room tone, apparently, but oddly the silence gives the sequence emphasis.
Speaking of silence, one of my favorite things about the Marx Brothers is Harpo's silence, which I believe he never broke on film. He expresses himself with an obnoxious horn and a bunsen burner and he is amazing at physical comedy. He moves like a stage magician. He has a bit where he keeps getting people to hold him by the thigh. It's funny because it's senseless and he keeps getting away with it. People keep finding themselves holding his thigh again and push it away in exasperation.
I'm going to have to tell on this movie a little as the term "darkies" comes up and the big musical number toward the end includes Negro spirituals for some reason. "Oh! Susanna" is another part of the medley. I mean, yes, I know 1933 was also too early for racial sensitivities. But it's the casual insensitivity that's most jarring. The sexism is even more blatant and obviously acceptable, so even worse in a way.
Calling all nations. Calling all nations. This is Rufus T. Firefly coming to you through the courtesy of the enemy. We're in a mess folks, we're in a mess. Rush to Freedonia! Three men and one woman are trapped in a building! Send help at once! If you can't send help, send two more women! Make it three more women!
I really missed a Chico piano bit, typically one of my favorite parts of Marx Brothers movies, but Duck Soup has a more coherent storyline than most of the others so I guess that makes it forgivable. The Marx Brothers chaos permeates even the filmmaking itself, as seen late in the movie with a "help is on the way!" montage that shows elephants, rowing crews, porpoises, and such all rushing to aid Freedonia.
I have to admit the invasion of Ukraine by Russia took some of the fun out of this movie along with the dated aspects. It is, after all, predicated on war between neighboring states. But I still hope I can see it someday again in a riotous crowded theater.
Enjoyed reading your post on Duck Soup, after we had touched on that in our recent email exchange. I haven't watched the full movie for some time, and your review reminded me of some things I'd forgotten. Groucho's character's name alone, "Rufus T. Firefly," is one of my favorite Marx Bros. moments ever, such a brilliant coinage ("Rufus" and "Firefly" would never occur together in serious rhetoric, and yet there they are) I never get tired of hearing. As for Groucho's logorrhea, I don't think that signifies that he's a "nitwit," but rather someone too smart for the circumstances he keeps finding himself in, who thus responds with the sarcasm he's so good at declaiming.
ReplyDeleteThanks for mentioning Harpo getting people to hold him by the thigh -- that's one of my favorite bits of Marx Bros. physical comedy. It always seems to me to be Harpo acting out his intention to bed the ladies he paws with his thigh, in a dada move that probably went over the heads of the censors. Very sexist, of course, but another example of Marxist anarchy that just seems funny when it suddenly appears minus any context.
-- Richard Riegel