1937, United States. Starring Groucho Marx, Chico Marx, Harpo Marx, Allan Jones, Maureen O'Sullivan, Margaret Dumont, Leonard Ceeley, Douglass Dumbrille, Esther Muir, Sig Ruman, Robert Middlemass. Directed by Sam Wood. Buy it from Amazon.

Hot on the heels of the successful revitalization of the Marx Brothers under the tutelage of MGM producer Irving Thalberg in the film A Night at the Opera, everyone decided to go out and make the exact same movie, more or less, a couple years later. The results are a mixed back, even more so than in the previous films s the Marxes are moved further away from their trademark shtick and surrounded by yet another run of the mill MGM-style musical. Still, none of that is mean to imply that this is a bad or unenjoyable film. When you set the bar as high as Duck Soup, you can fall along way and still be making funny movies.

The formula that worked the first time out was expected to work the second time out, and pretty much every time out after that. Chico is sort of a middle manager for the good guy, while Harpo is an abused employee of the bad guy. Chico yells his name and they hug. Then Groucho shows up posing as some sort of carpet-bagging authority figure with the intention of conning someone, usually played by Margaret Dumont, only to find himself fleeced by the wily Chico. Eventually some common threat posed by the evil rich guy in authority will bring the three together, and they'll also have to help two star-crossed lovers before finally wreaking havoc and some big social event. And along the way, Chico will play the piano and Harpo will strum the harp.

For A Day at the Races, Chico is employed by the dreamy Maureen "Me Jane" O'Sullivan, owner of a failing sanitarium. Harpo is a jockey employed by the evil Mr. Morgan. Harpo gets routinely kicked in the rump by Morgan for not throwing races and other dastardly deeds. In an attempt to turn the sanitarium's richest patient into a benefactor, Chico hatches a scheme to bring in her favorite doctor from down South, a certain Doctor Hackenbush (Groucho). Hackenbush is actually a veterinarian but cons people into thinking he's a real doctor. The first meeting with Chico is one of the films' best moments, but like most Marx Brothers bits, is best experienced rather than explained. Eventually, the three team up to help Maureen save her sanitarium from Morgan and his partner Mr. Whitmore, resulting in shenanigans galore.

Although A Day at the Races has parts that make it, in my opinion, inferior to A Night at the Opera, it also has a much higher mayhem ratio as the Marxes are set loose a little more often than in their previous MGM outing. The best bits are the aforementioned Chico-Groucho meeting, a slapstick medical examination, a bit with a treacherous vamp in Groucho's room, and of course, the usual out-of-control finale in which all hell breaks loose. Groucho has some great lines, but Harpo's physical comedy is less pervasive than in the brilliant finale of Opera. Chico, unfortunately, is relegated to the role of Harpo's wetnurse and given less to do than he deserves.

When this film is good, it's very good. Unfortunately when it's bad, it's pretty darn bad. The musical numbers here are lengthier and more gratuitous than in the previous film, and Allan Jones is on hand once again to be the Zeppo of the film, the straight man romantic guy. This means Jones will have to belt out a couple really long, dull songs. One, at least, is followed up by a bizarre bit of ballet compliments of Vivien Fay, who manages to spin about so fast that you'll swear the laws of physics are somehow being violated, which wouldn't be surprising for a Marx Brothers movie. Jones' second musical excursion comes as the gang hides out from The Man in a barn and gets involved with the local swing-dancing gospel choir.

Once the choir takes over, things are pretty jumping as both the music and dancing is out of this world. A lot has been made of the fact that this scene ends with the Brothers in blackface trying to blend in and escape the cops. The knee-jerk reaction, of course, is just to write it off as another ill-advised racist relic of Hollywood's past, but I think that's giving the Marx Brothers too little credit. If you actually look at the way the scene is executed, rather than just rolling your eyes as soon as the blackface comes out, I think you'd see as I do that it's not just a blackface performance, but is instead a rather biting satire of such a thing. For starters, the blackface each of the brothers dons is horrible. Groucho just has streaks of grease on his face like he's been working on a car. Chico's face is almost solid jet black, and Harpo has only covered the left half of his face. Secondly, their blackface fools no one, and they are immediately identified as not being black at all and foolish for having dreamt up such a hair-brained scheme. It could be that I'm simply looking for satire where none exists in order to justify an admittedly tender issue, but it's my firm opinion that the Marx Brothers aren't doing a blackface routine; they're skewering the entire concept.

Whatever the case, I find the notion that Allan Jones' schmaltzy faux-operatic warbling is somehow every bit as impressive as the raucous Chrinoline Choir's frenetic jazz-gospel and neck-snapping swing dancing performance to be far more upsetting.

Thalberg was still overseeing the Brothers when this film went into production, and as such they're surrounded by, if not a very original script, at least a competent one, as well as competent supporting stars. Margaret Dumont, the frequent female foil of Groucho, is on hand once again as the rich patient torn between her devotion to Hackenbush, her fondness of Maureen O'Sullivan's Judy, and the growing obviousness that Hackenbush is not all he claims to be. Maureen O'Sullivan was best known and remains best known starring opposite Johnny Weissmuller in the first five Tarzan films. She's unspeakably beautiful and performs well in the admittedly limited task of being the sweet girl. Jones is as he was in the last film, the big-hearted lug who must prove himself. When he isn't boring us with his singing, he's mostly just making eyes at Judy or being hauled around by the Brothers. Other familiar faces include Sig Ruman as a famous doctor summoned to call Groucho's bluff (he was the opera manager in the last film).

The script, as stated, takes no chances with the formula that worked so well in A Night at the Opera, and this tendency to play it safe is another thing that keeps the film inferior. With the Marx Brothers a proven commodity again, MGM should have loosened the reigns a little, if you'll pardon the pun, instead of pulling them in even tighter. When the Marx Brothers are allowed to cut loose with their patented lunacy, the results are golden. The fiasco they instigate at the big horse race that will decide everyone's fate Is grander in scope and mirth than the wonderful finale in A Night at the Opera, but it also lacks the gee-whiz element of watching Harpo, or some stunt double in a Harpo wig, performing all sorts of wild leaps and falls. Groucho's material, however, is as good and maybe even slightly better than in A Night at the Opera. His initial exchange with the snobbish Whitmore is wonderful, and most of his other one-liners hit the mark as well. Once again, authority figures are teased, trashed, and generally treated with contempt as the Marx Brothers go nuts. This bunch of pills is a lot easier to dislike than the previous bunch in A Night at the Opera, where there was really only one deserving villain. Margaret Dumont, ever the tortured female accomplice in the Marx Brothers films, doesn't have to bear the brunt of the tomfoolery for a change, as she gets to play a more or less sympathetic character. Of course, the rich, the prudish, the condescending, and the cops all get hosed.

This isn't the Marx Brothers movie to rush out and see, but it's not a bad one to sit down to once you've seen them at the peak of their performances, either in the first five films they made for Paramount Studios or in A Night at the Opera. It is quite a testament to the talent of the Brothers that one of their less successful films can still be this hilarious and enjoyable. Cut out the overlong musical numbers that bloat the film's running time, and this would have been better still. Either way, it sure beats buying horse racing books from Chico. Unfortunately, Thalberg died an untimely death during the making of this film. His protection of and fondness for the Marx Brothers would become sorely missed in subsequent features, which were handled by a producer who had no interest in the Marx Brothers and saddled them with films of an increasingly shoddy quality. Still, as we shall see as we move forward, even these threadbare final films manage to offer up something of worth. And regardless of their merits or lack there of, we'll always have Cocoanuts, Horse Feathers, Monkey Business, Animal Crackers, Duck Soup, A Night at the Opera, and for all its short-comings, even A Day at the Races. Now when your comedy pedigree is that outstanding and ground-breaking, then you'll have something to talk about.

Labels: Comedy, Musicals, Netflix Diary, Stars: Marx Brothers, Year: 1937