Post 535 - Well, When Two Favorite Comedians Merge ... That's a Thing!

Buster Keaton, appearing as a cop in Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle's "Coney Island," does Groucho before Groucho ever did Groucho...1917

"Brain Donors" (1992) - Tribute to the Comedic Style of the Marx Brothers

After hearing it discussed on the Marx Brother's Council Podcast, I found a copy of the Zucker Brother's Brain Donors from 1992. It follows the plotline from the Marx Brothers' MGM film Night at the Opera from 1935, with pacing by comedian Dennis Dugan to match their later, more frantic Paramount releases. There is even credit to the original Kaufman-Ryskind screenplay at the closing credits.

John Turturro was starting his ascendency, Mel Smith was an established comedic character, and Bob Nelson seems never to have made a film after this one (and that's a pity; he's great here and in an earlier appearance in Schwarzenegger's Kindergarten Cop ).

Opening and closing animation by Will Vinton ("California Raisins") and music by Mark Motherspaugh.

Apparently, Paramount in the 1990s was undergoing a comedy excision in its management and another film with the same team was mothballed (another pity).

It's fun and fast (75 minutes!?), and those familiar with the original Marx film will see how it takes some familiar situations and gives them a unique twist (the contract scene, stateroom scene, piece where the manager is greeted by stagehands).

Screenwriter Pat Proft certainly appreciated his source material! (the title, a Paramount decision, didn't make the appropriate connection, however...)

And to top it all off, the love interest for the film is played by Spike Alexander, a near doppelganger for Zeppo!

It's episode 31 of the Marx Brothers Council Podcast series, available at their website:

https://www.marxbrotherscouncilpodcast.com/

A Brief Observation on the Marx Brothers

When first discovering the Marx’s features, I was rather stunned by the density of the comedy content.  I had seen bits of “Horse Feathers” and “Monkey Business” before, but presumed the clips were from far more films than part of a single release.  For comparison, I remember sitting though a lot of padding when watching W. C. Fields Paramount releases, in order to get to the comedy - a minute here, a minute there, a reprise of a reprise of a vaudeville turn or a sequence from his two-reelers at Sennett, or wholesale remake of his silent features. 

The routines in the Marx Paramount films would, in the hands of other era comedians and their producers, be parsimoniously scattered among a multitude of features.  All that comedic material often crammed into 90 minutes or less was nothing short of amazing when it came to the Marxes.  A few films by others approached their anarchy, as detailed in Henry Jenkins “What Made Pistachio Nuts,” but they lacked the foundation of Marxian talent and personality (even Wheeler and Woolsey couldn’t find a consistency to their characters from film to film). 

Their final MGM films just showed the MGM was tone deaf to comedy - “At the Circus” and “Go West” are funny films, but they’re not funny Marx Brothers films.  Bob Hope could easily have slipped into Groucho’s part in “Go West.”  And Bob Gassel proved through his masterful editing that even those movies would barely run an hour if using a Paramount pace (and they’re the only way I can watch “At the Circus” or “The Big Store” since discovering his edits - although I do like “Sing While You Sell,” a musical piece that could easily foreshadow Abbott and Costello filmmaking tone). 

So while they only made 13 films, in the hands of other comedy teams or cinematic producers, that material would have served as basis for three times as many movies.  Over half of their output is finely distilled Courvoisier in a world of Bud Light.

Don't Be Nervous (1929) - clip demonstrating sound technique

1929 wasn't a good year for movies that moved.  Sound generally meant a camera bolted in place, boxed to create a quiet camera and dehydrated cameraman.  And for the sound itself, it wasn't high fidelity - it practically had to fight to get onto the soundtrack.  Watch The Broadway Melody (1929) to track MGM's learning curve (spoiler alert - it isn't too curvy), or examine the Marx Brothers in their first film for Paramount, The Coconuts, to observe the direct method to prevent crackly paper from destroying a take.

Lloyd Hamilton, himself

So for a two-reeler from Educational Pictures in 1929 to not only handle sound pretty well, but to add a split-screen AND interactive soundtrack is pretty amazing.  Lloyd Hamilton, generally unknown today, was appreciated by his contemporaries (Buster Keaton particularly among them), provided this example of how he handled "the talkies."  I know I was rather stunned - from Don't Be Nervous, directed by William Watson. 

The whole thing is here:
https://archive.org/details/DONTBENERVOUSLloydHamiltonTalkie

An Appreciation of Raymond Griffith - You'd Be Surprised (Paramount, 1926)

Along the lines of Richard Anobile:

First of all, my thanks for Grapevine Video, about the only available source for Raymond Griffith's films, for making these films available to current audiences.  Check them out at www.grapevinevideo.com for many obscure titles that have been overlooked by others and have slid into the public domain...this particular DVD release is from a very good master print.

"The most difficult, the most delicate, the most interesting, and a very worthwhile job is that of making people laugh."  - Raymond Griffith

Nice features of the Paramount comedies of the 1920s include the opening credits.  There's a lot to look at with the title - here, the now-forgotten Raymond Griffith gets a full star credit, the Paramount Logo is re-established, the location of the production is confirmed (here, the West Coast, vs the East coast, where productions tended to pull talent from New York), B. P. "Bud" Schulberg is at the helm, and the sinister eyes seemingly as an afterthought, (one could wonder if the original production was misinterpreted as something far more dramatic by the title artist, or that by 1926  the image was such a cliche that it foretold a tongue-in-cheek adventure?).

Here is where things quickly became interesting - by 1926, Robert Benchley was an established critic for Vanity Fair and had three volumes of essays to his credit.  His "Treasurer's Report" had been a Broadway staple for some time and Jesse Lasky approached him to write screenplays.  Not much seemed to come of this arrangement, but for You'd Be Surprised and two other Paramount films he did create the text for the title cards.  This predates his own film appearances in The Treasurer's Report and Sex Live of the Polyp by two years.

Arthur Rosson comes to You'd Be Surprised after completing another Raymond Griffith film,  Wet Paint, and a Bebe Daniels film, Stranded in Paris.  He appears to have been a Paramount mainstay, with credits often intersecting with Cecil B. DeMille as a second unit director.

Another familiar name to film fans of the silent era is Dorothy Sebastian, known for her relationship with Buster Keaton and appearances in his films Spite Marriage, Free and Easy, and  Allez Oop.  

You'd Be Surprised plays out in real-time, in only three staged rooms.  The image of the gigantic houseboat above is the only real exterior shot in the movie, and the use of an evening time frame further trims narrative expense.  While it is a slickly made film, it was likely a comparatively inexpensive production for Paramount.

The film begins with a montage sequence stressing that an unlucky evening about to unfold.

Phonograph fans will quickly recognize the collectible dancing toy. a variation on "Ragtime Rastus." It linked to the turntable and, through gears beneath the device, made the toy dance.  Other toys had a couple dancing the waltz or tango.

The cat continues its wanderings in the houseboat, with disasters in its wake....

Dropped bracelets...

A lost hand at cards...

A dropped compact, with resulting broken mirror...

But best, with a tete-a-tete being interrupted by the arrival of a wife...all in below-the-knee perspective...

And then, for a finale in this opening montage, a tap on the film's first victim.

Well, that pretty much telegraphs in what's about to happen.

And out the lights go...

That's character actor Roscoe Karns in the tuxedo.  Known for his wise-cracking rapid banter in later movies, it's interesting to see him here in a silent film,

With the elevation of each arriving dignitary, the announcement becomes increasingly formal, but each time the verdict is the same - "Don't touch anything! This is a case for the coroner!"

And with that, the staging is set for the arrival of the star of the program, the coroner, preceded by the black cat -- Raymond Griffith.  It's prescient to Groucho's arrival to head up Freedonia in Duck Soup, 7 years later...

Griffith cuts to the chase - a direct question to the first man he sees

If not you, then who?!

Benchley at work...

Everyone seems to be a straight man in this film, working up their most suspicious expressions....

Sebastian squeezes out every silent screen era signal of guilt and confusion.

There is a lot of back-and-forth business where Griffith takes and returns the badge of inspector, indicating his level of confidence, both for solving the situation and for likely making it to the theatre before opening curtian.

.

Sebastian's hysterics at being told she has just seen a dead body

Thirty years later, in Rear Window, Hitchcock would insert a series of expressionless shots of Jimmy Stewart  and the audience would have different impressions of his emotional state based on what the reactive image would be - here, Sebastian holds the same stare, and Griffith's expression gradually transforms:

The coroner decides he must interview Ms. Sebastian in private.

Another direct question

The staging in this shot is quite nice, arms thrusting inward to touch the chafing dish.

The wounded hand is a ruse, of course, quickly uncovered.

Of course, that's a cue for the cat and a crashing glass globe to center stage.

A suspicious face from above....

And all try to flee through the room containing the first victim's body.

The victim's cuff reveals a smudge clue - a distinct fingerprint!

The lights go out and the cuff vanishes...

The lights go out and the collection of probable suspects vanishes

The cuff appears, but a pointed comment appears as well...

Wherever Griffith bends to the door, the knife instantly appears at that spot.  Nice comic timing.

And then a LOT of cuffs appear...

In comes what appears to be a butler, but is also the human connected to the face in the skylight...he wanders through the scene, rather nonchalantly...

This is a good place to interject some contemporary notes on You'd Be Surprised, from Loew's Weekly of 1926:

"Laughs 'n Gasps Galore in Gay Griffith Farce"

"If you want to laugh one minute and gasp the next - see Raymond Griffith in You'd Be Surprised, which comes here next week.  It is undoubtedly Griffith's best picture since his Paths to Paradise.  As a "Sherlock Holmes" Ray goes through mental gymnastics in the untangling of a murder mystery which would do credit to any sleuth.

"It's hard to say which the picture contains more of -- laughs or thrills. Griffith, a coroner, tries to discover who killed the district attorney.  Instead of solving the mystery he finds himself in the center of a dozen others, and also discovers that he has fallen in love with a girl whom everyone suspects as the criminal.

"The picture's ending will have to remain a mystery because Mr. Griffith has asked those who see the picture to refrain from telling their friends the real murderer's identity.

"Dorothy Sebastian, playing opposite Ray, makes a lovely foil for his emotions.  Earl Williams enacts the deputy district attorney, and Edward Martindel, the attorney.  Arthur Rosson, the director of Wet Paint, was again at the helm.

Some of the deaf mute scenes in You'd Be Surprised are among the funniest ever filmed."

Besides referring to Raymond Griffith as "Ray," this promotional piece shows some disconnect with the actual production - Martindel plays the houseboat millionaire, not a district attorney, nor is there a deputy district attorney character in the film.  Perhaps the publicity was early in production, before the plotlines were completely worked out.

Paths to Paradise is available from Grapevine, but with a missing final reel (the film seems to end abruptly, but the general narrative is still understandable); Wet Paint seems to be among the legion of "lost films."

And the butler is deaf, and Griffith manages to communicate with him as the "coroner's jury" is brought into the main room.  It's an enthusiastic scene, but not one at the level of hilarity described by the studio's promotional material....

The assembled coroner's jury, namely whoever would be walking the streets at night near a houseboat, is sworn in.

Griffith accommodates the jury by having a makeshift dinner.

The butler, now the coroner's assistant, will stand in for the first victim as Griffith tries to recreate the crime for the coroner's jury.

... with the same results...

Things aren't looking good for Sebastian with this exchange.

Pure Benchley

So even Griffith offers to take the place of the first victim for the re-enactment.

The jury frets for his safety...

The police won't permit a complete lights out!

The jury is dismissed at this latest twist in the case....

And Griffith has been among them the entire time.

The man's thumbprint matches the one on the purloined cuff....and it turns out it was the first person Griffith accused, 40 minutes earlier!

"How'd you do that!?"

And, suddenly, Richard Arlen, a year from starring in Paramount's Wings, shows up as a reporter!

For more information about Raymond Griffith, a good place to start is the 1975 book by Walter Kerr, The Silent Clowns in the chapter (#31 in the series!) entitled The Unexpected Raymond Griffith.  Griffith's career didn't survive into the sound era due to damaged vocal chords that didn't permit him to speak above a whisper.  His last role before the camera was as the dying soldier sharing a foxhole with Lew Ayres in 1930's All Quiet on the Western Front.   He produced comedies through 1940, even serving (uncredited) as an electrician on The Wizard of Oz (!!!). 

In addition to You'd Be Surprised, other films that remain available with Griffith also include Hands Up! and Paths to Paradise, where he stars, and White Tiger, Changing Husbands, and Miss Bluebeard, where he appears in secondary roles (all from Grapevine Video).