At the Circus (1939)

KEEP THE WORLD LAUGHING

Today, we return to the films of the Marx Brothers. Their career in film had begun back when they signed a contract with Paramount, producing their first feature in 1929, The Cocoanuts. The four brothers (Groucho, Chico, Harpo and Zeppo) stayed on with Paramount until 1933, when they left the company over creative differences. After this, Zeppo left the act to become an agent with his brother Gummo, so the other three ended up signing with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Towards the end of their tenure at MGM, they made At the Circus.

Young circus owner Jeff Wilson (Kenny Baker) owes a considerable sum on his business, but is on the cusp of repaying it. However, the man he owes doesn’t want the money; he wants the circus. He enlists the help of the circus strongman and the circus midget to steal the money, forcing Wilson to give up his circus. But two people wants to help - the strongman’s assistant Punchy (Harpo Marx) and circus hand Antonio (Chico Marx). So they hire Antonio’s old lawyer friend, J. Cheever Loophole (Groucho Marx).

There’s actually something of an interesting history behind the conception of At the Circus, which is attached to what would some would regard as something of an injustice within the ranks of Universal Pictures in the mid-30s. Carl Laemmle was one of the founders of Universal, and acted as executive and producer in the company, bringing his son Carl Laemmle Jr. on as head of production in 1928. Under the guidance of the Laemmles, Universal enjoyed quite a bit of success. One of their projects from 1929 was a partial-talkie adaptation of the novel Show Boat, though Laemmle Snr. was never satisfied with that version, so the pair embarked on a project to make an all new, all sound version, adapting from both the novel and the musical written by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II. Looking for money for the project, a financier by the name of J. Cheever Cowdin, representing a group of investors, loaned the Laemmles $750,000 towards the production. However, after the film was completed but before it was released, the investors demanded their money to be repaid in full, which the Laemmles could not do yet. Due to their inability to repay the money, Cowdin was able to force the Laemmles out of their position and assume control of Universal, which he did and remained in charge until 1946. Had the loan not been recalled until after the film’s release, there would have been the money to repay it without any such takeovers. As it is, both Laemmle Snr. and Jr. left the business and never worked in film again. Sadly, Hollywood is actually full of stories like these.

Such was the reality of what had happened at another studio only a few years before, and so it became a loose inspiration for At the Circus, with a financier trying to force an indebted circus owner into handing over control of his business because of a loan he couldn’t repay. However, it was somewhat restructured to have the good guys come out on top, thanks to the intervention of the three anarchic Marx Brothers, one of who bears a name similar to the real life transgressor, J. Cheever Loophole (Groucho always did love a ridiculous name). Given the nature of the true events, and the influence of MGM producer Irving Thalberg, the story is a well-structured piece. It does occasionally lapse, making concessions to the public’s expectations of a Marx Brothers film, but it is, for the most part, a nicely controlled work. If you actually took out the musical pieces, it would probably be a much cleaner ride.

However, to remove the musical pieces would be to remove one of Groucho’s great signature songs, Lydia, the Tattooed Lady. It’s still a great and funny song, sang well (for Groucho) and very well choreographed as a full song and dance number in a train car. One of the other good moments is Harpo’s big musical scene, Swingali. It comes completely out of nowhere, and has a touch of the ignorant racial attitudes of the period (again), but it has some superb energy to it. This then segues into Harpo’s required harp recital, which becomes something of a mash-up of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot and Blue Moon. Other songs are less enjoyable, occasionally even a bit grating, such the love theme Two Blind Loves. Still, there was always this kind of problem with movies of the time, not just Marx films. And besides, you don’t really watch a Marx film for the songs.

The comedy scenes are very well handled, certainly more so than Animal Crackers, which you may remember me not liking much. Not long after that film, they had found their filmic style, and been given directors more suited to their comedy, so by the time At the Circus came along, their work was much firmer. Director Edward Buzzell, clearly having learned the best way to work with the Marx Brothers by watching their earlier work, spaces out the comedy pieces well, giving a more balanced play overall. Buzzell also keeps the pace and energy up very well, so it rarely feels slow or plodding. He’s also managed to get some great images and camera movements in there, like in the Swingali number, or the banquet scene, or the big finish at the circus. It’s always great to see the director actively engage with the world they create, moving through it with confidence.

Groucho continues his subversive streak here, again addressing the audience directly, but adding an extra twist. When trying to retrieve the stolen money from one of the bad circus stars, Peerless Pauline (Eve Arden), Groucho sees that she has slipped it down her top. Seeing this, Groucho turns to the camera and says, “There must be some way of getting that money back without offending the Hays Office.” And if you read my reviews of Angels with Dirty Faces and The Asphalt Jungle, you’ll know what that was all about. There is also the great Margaret Dumont later in the film, and both she and Groucho continue to bounce off each other beautifully. That Dumont doesn’t arrive until about two-thirds into the film gives things an extra jolt, as you know it will lead to the joy only those two can provide onscreen.

Scenes between Chico and Harpo are also just gold. After Wilson is attacked for his money, Antonio and Punchy try to figure out what happened. Unsurprisingly, this leads to Punchy repeatedly attacking Antonio. When Antonio tries to explain that they are just pretending, “you know, like in-a da movies,” Punchy shows that he understands by laying a series of over-exaggerated kisses up Antonio’s arm before picking him up throwing him down in some hay before being thrown off by Antonio. God, that’s funny, and it’s the sheer speed at which it happens that just makes it funnier.

Another scene of comedy gold comes when the three brothers are together, trying to interrogate the circus midget, Little Professor Atom, about the whereabouts of the missing money. Professor Atom is played really very well by a little boy with a moustache drawn on his upper lip and chomping a cigar (yes, the kid actually smokes it) and the whole scene takes place in Professor Atom’s little private house, which is too small for the Brothers to stand up in. The physical dimensions are ridiculous and the dialogue is hilarious, with Groucho occasionally dropping character and just trying to make the kid laugh. The fact the kid doesn’t corpse constantly just shows how professional he is. This scene also holds the one and only time in any of their films where you, sort of, get to hear actual sound come from Harpo when he sneezes. He sneezes so hard that he literally blows the furniture, and everyone else in the room, over completely.

Whilst it’s certainly not the best work of the Marx Brothers, At the Circus is still a great one. The script is well-written, the direction assured and dynamic, and the cast are on top form. There’s a great energy throughout, and the Brothers have some superb moments, particularly Harpo’s bizarre physical gags, which director Buzzell knows well enough to not get lost in fray. After the feeling of despondency that I was left with by Animal Crackers, this was a most welcome and needed return for my love of the Marx movies. And all it took was a smoking child, some upside down walking and a giraffe licking a women’s neck… that’s right.

Animal Crackers (1930)

THE MADDEST COMICS OF THEM ALL!

The Marx Brothers. Some of the funniest and most enduring comedy stars ever. A thoroughly gifted family, particularly in music, they quickly found their way to the stage and became a very successful vaudeville act. Like others who had achieved great success on the stage, Hollywood came calling, with Paramount snatching them up for the new turn of “talkies” that was sweeping the industry. Their first two feature projects (a short called Humor Risk was filmed but never released and is believed to now be lost) were adaptations of plays that had been Broadway successes. The first was The Cocoanuts, released in 1929. The second came a year later - Animal Crackers.

Captain Jeffrey T. Spaulding (Groucho Marx), the famous explorer, returns from Africa and is invited to attend a gala party held by Mrs. Rittenhouse (Margaret Dumont), during which a famous painting will be displayed. During the party, the painting is stolen, so Mrs. Rittenhouse turns to Spaulding for help to find it and save her reputation.

I love the Marx Brothers, I truly do. Growing up watching their movies, seeing Groucho deliver his rapid-fire one-liners to an utterly bewildered Margaret Dumont, ended up having something of an effect on the way I talk to some people. It’s like him, just nowhere near as funny. I say all this because it’s important to me that you understand that I’m a big fan of these guys. And it’s with that in mind that I say that Animal Crackers, despite the success at the time and the classic status it holds today, is actually not that good…

I know, I know. It’s a controversial position to take. I wish for it to be clear that I don’t consider this a fault of anyone on screen that much. They all give what they can. The real problem comes from two things: a weak script and lousy direction.

I can’t speak for the original Broadway play, but the script here is appallingly bad. The major conflict of the film rests on the disappearance of a very valuable painting. You see, Mrs. Rittenhouse’s daughter’s boyfriend is a talented artist, and he is convinced to swap the real painting for a copy he made to show off his skills as an artist and become famous… I’m not sure that’s the smartest of plans. On top of this, two of the party guests, one of whom is also an artists, but a bad one, decide to swap the real painting for their own copy, really just because they think it will be funny. They manage to convince Mrs. Rittenhouse’s head butler to do it, because… it would seem he used to be that guest’s old butler and they asked a favour… what? Never mind the ridiculously convoluted nature of this whole thing, what kind of weak motivations are these for all this? It doesn’t even have the good sense to devolve into a hilarious comedy of errors, with each party trying to figure out which painting is real or not before the police arrive. Honestly, by the end, you won’t care. Plus, is it just me or does whole bit about a famous explorer being invited to a swanky society party to regale the guests with hunter’s tales before having to save the reputation of the hostess from plans of two scheming guests sound a bit familiar? In fact, it sounds quite close to the rough premise of Harold Lloyd’s 1921 short Among Those Present, which I talked about last week. Weird.

The other real bad spot of the film is the direction from Victor Heerman. Heerman was more regarded as a writer in Hollywood. Either as part of a team or on his own, he is credited with writing Golden Boy in 1939, Magnificent Obsession in 1935 and Little Women in 1933, for which he won an Oscar. He was also a director, but going by Animal Crackers, this is not where his skills lay, at least not with comedy. He has absolutely no sense of any kind of visual style on show, so the camera is just aimed at the actors and left running in the hopes of catching something. The fact that the project was originally a play, with predominantly the same cast, has clearly factored into Heerman’s thinking, so it feels like someone has just filmed the stage show, rather than made a film out of it. This has a catastrophic effect on how the film unfolds. The play clearly got laughs in theatres, and so the actors would leave the occasional pause before they continue. These pauses are still there, as if their playing to an audience that isn’t there, so there are dozens of times when a joke is followed by a rather awkward silence before the action continues. As such, there is a dreadful lack of energy and pace to the whole project, so it also feels very slow. One of the most fondly remembered scenes is one where Chico and Harpo play Bridge with Dumont and Margaret Irving… good God, it’s slow, made worse by the fact that it’s mostly done in a single, long, unedited take. I’m sorry, but it’s just not funny.

There are numerous technical issues with the film, too, although many of these are a product of a studio still trying to come to terms with the new technology being used. Sound films had really only been around for four years at this point, and many still felt a little resistance to this new way of making films. Microphone positioning was clearly still an issue, with the sounds of footsteps clomping around occasionally competing with dialogue. Also, the editing is rather choppy. Honestly, these would actually be rather mild concerns, easily overlooked if other aspects of the filmmaking weren’t so poor.

However, this is still a Marx Brothers film, so there is still some enjoyment here. There are still some cracking lines from Groucho (“One morning I shot an elephant in my pyjamas. How he got in my pyjamas, I don’t know” is still a classic); Harpo’s physical work is still great (a moment at the end when he’s discovered stealing silverware is absolute gold, no pun intended); and the musical interludes from Chico and Harpo are still very impressive. It also contains several instances of Groucho talking directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall before they even had a chance to build it. (A bit of me suspects that the reason he did this was because Groucho could feel the lack of energy because of the lack of audience, so decided to fill the gap in the only way he knew how, by playing to them even though they weren’t there.)

There is another thing that rather bothers me about Animal Crackers. It could be a sign of how times have changed, but the film is, probably unintentionally, kind of racist. It’s more likely that it’s just them trying to make jokes without thinking too much about it, but by modern standards, it cuts really close to the bone on a few occasions. When Groucho makes his big entrance, he’s being carried in a sedan by four African men. Okay, so he’s just making a joke that this is like an African taxi and no malice was intended, I guess. Then, there’s a later line, “I wish I was back in the jungle, where men are monkeys.” Again, he’s probably just making an unfortunately worded joke, but still… and then there’s another line, “Africa is God’s country, and he can have it.”… again, I honestly don’t think he’s being consciously mean-spirited with any of this, and maybe few people would have questioned any of this back then. Nevertheless, it’s a little bit uncomfortable nowadays.

Despite holding some of Groucho’s most famous jokes, Animal Crackers is not a particularly good film, largely because the central story is so weakly written and the direction is so painfully lacklustre. The Marx Brothers do give what they can, and they still wring some laughs in this, but it remains something to get through rather than something to really enjoy as intended.