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THE MARX BROS COLLECTION
(Universal Home Entertainment)
By Glenn Andrelev

THE COCOANUTS – 1929. 96 mins. Screenplay by George S Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind. Director, Robert Florey and Joseph Stanley. Music & lyrics by Irving Berlin.
ANIMAL CRACKERS – 1930. 98 mins. From the play by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind. Music & lyrics by Bert Kalmar & Harry Ruby. Directed by Victor Heerman.
MONKEY BUSINESS – 1931. 81 mins. Screenwriters: S.J. Perelman, Will B. Johnstone, Arthur Sheekman. Directed by Norman Z. McLeod.
HORSE FEATHERS – 1932. 69 mins. Screenplay by Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, S.J. Perelman, Will B. Johnstone. Directed by Norman Z. McLeod.
DUCK SOUP – 1933. 68 mins. Written by Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, Arthur Sheekman, Nat Perrin. Directed by Leo McCarey. Music & lyrics by Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby.

People won’t like you if you make fun of a homeless single mother who just lost her food-stamps. However, if you can make fun of a powerful, snobby millionaire who spends his whole day in a tuxedo, than you’re going to have your fans. That was the appeal of The Marx Brothers, one of the greatest comedy teams of the 20th century. In their best films, they satirized such upper class endeavors as posh house parties, ocean cruises, education, politics and the opera. The Marxes’ humor was chaotic, surreal, and lightning paced.

The most famous of this bunch was Groucho, with his bizarre and perfect insults, always looking like he slept in his ill-fitting suit. Chico, with his phony-Italian accent, usually had some complicated con-job in the works. The mute, shabbily dressed Harpo, either acted like a happy puppy or a raving mad-man. The fourth brother, Zeppo, most often wore a plain business suit, yet still fit right in. They made their best films while working for Paramount between 1929 and 1933. Universal has released their five Paramount films in a wonderful box set, the perfect stocking-stuffer for the Marx fan.

By 1929, The Marx Brothers were highly popular stage comedians, first in vaudeville, than Broadway. In their first film, THE COCOANUTS, Groucho is Mr. Hammer, the owner of an unpopular Florida resort. His guests include Chico and Harpo, two con-artists who chase women, pick pockets and become involved in somebody else’s jewelry heist. Since THE COCOANUTS is an adaptation of one of their Broadway successes, there are plenty of Jazz era musical numbers. Watching THE COCOANUTS is like watching a 1920’s Broadway play. In that respect, it’s a valuable time piece. Yet it is also one of their more cinematic films. Director Robert Florey, a French surrealist film-maker, uses wild camera angles during musical numbers and an invisible wall during a long chase that goes in and out of two tiny rooms. (Florey, three years later, directed the wonderfully eerie MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE, as well as some of the best TWILIGHT ZONE episodes) Until recently, when revived in theatres or on late night television, THE COCOANUTS looked worn and faded. “That movie always looked like it was being shown through a fog” remarked life-long Marx fan Richie Cutler. Universal did a terrific job of cleaning the very fast and funny COCOANUTS of picture rot, scratches, and audio hiss.

Their second film, ANIMAL CRACKERS, also an adaptation of one of their Broadway plays, is done with almost no cinematic imagination. However, it’s even funnier than THE COCOANUTS. The setting is the glorious Long Island estate of Mrs. Rittenhouse (played by Margaret Dumont, who excelled at playing snooty, humorless society ladies, the perfect Marx foil.) Again, the plot centers around a crime, the theft of a treasured painting. The guest of honor, Captain Spaulding (Groucho), and his shiftless assistant, Jamison (Zeppo) try unraveling this mystery. Two of the real culprits include visiting musicians, Ravelli (Chico) and The Professor (Harpo)

ANIMAL CRACKERS has hysterically funny segments that will make anybody a Marx Brothers fan. My favorite is the reception where Spaulding tells of his adventures in Africa (“One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in pajamas I’ll never know.”) Ravelli (Chico) is called upon to do a piano solo, but can’t get past the opening few notes of “Sugar In The Morning”, which he repeats and repeats and repeats. The romantic lead here is Lillian Roth, a lovely actress-singer whose career was cut short by alcoholism. ANIMAL CRACKERS was shot in the famed Astoria Studios outside of Manhattan.

Their next film, MONKEY BUSINESS, was their first written directly for the screen. Here they are ocean liner stowaways, constantly dodging authorities. They become mixed up with two warring gangsters on the ship. The centerpiece of MONKEY BUSINESS is a great scene where each Marx Brother tries to get off the docking boat using the passport they stole from popular singer Maurice Chevalier. The three Marxes capable of speech try convincing authorities they belong to the passport by singing, horribly off key, one of Chevalier’s songs. It gets even crazier when Harpo gives it a try!

MONKEY BUSINESS is the film that gives the fourth Marx Brother, Zeppo, the most to do. He broke from the group when the Marxes left Paramount. While his three more famous brothers dressed the parts of crazed outcasts, Zeppo, usually in his unassuming attire, looked like a Jewish version of Edward Burns. It was always fun to see this normal-looking guy take part in the Marxes wave of lunacy.

Their last two films for Paramount, HORSE FEATHERS and DUCK SOUP, are regarded as their best films. In HORSE FEATHERS, Groucho is the Dean of Huxley College. Following the introductory speech of another esteemed college elder, he delivers a barrage of insane, stream-of-consciousness remarks to his students (“I thought my razor was dull until I heard his speech, and that reminds me of a story so dirty, I’m ashamed to think of it myself.”) Chico and Harpo are employed to kidnap two football players. (Outside the football player’s apartment, Chico asks Harpo if they have all their kidnapping tools; “You got the shovel, the ice and the pick…? Where’s the pick?” Harpo produces a little pig from under his raincoat. “Aw, that’s no pick, that’s a hog! Don’t you know what a hog is?” Harpo gives Chico a hug.)

Their last film for Paramount, DUCK SOUP, may have been too much for depression era audiences in 1933 with it’s wild humor focusing on economic collapse and war. Though it didn’t fare well at the box office, it has since become one of the great comedy cult classics. Groucho plays Rufus T. Firefly, a nobody who is appointed President of Fredonia, a small country. At his inaugural ball, Firefly sings of his presidential agenda (“If you think this country’s bad off now, just wait till I get through with it.”) Chico and Harpo are foreign spies, out to dig up any information that could lead to Firefly’s downfall. DUCK SOUP is their fastest paced film, thanks to the direction by Leo McCarey (who directed the stylishly funny THE AWFUL TRUTH, and many Laurel and Hardy shorts). Among their memorable scenes is a pantomime with a mirror, which Harpo reprised decades later, opposite Lucille Ball, on the I LOVE LUCY show.

The only minus in the box set is the paucity of extras. A sixth disc has separate appearances on The Today Show by Harpo, Groucho and William Marx (Harpo’s son) But there is so much rare Marx Brother material out there that belongs on this extra disc, such as scenes from TOO MANY KISSES, a 1925 silent comedy/western with an appearance by Harpo, or the skit the Four Marxes did in THE HOUSE THAT SHADOWS BUILT, a Paramount promotional short made in 1931. Regardless, it’s a terrific box set, well worth the price.

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ALADDIN Platinum Special Edition. 2002.
(Disney)

I remember going to the press screening of ALADDIN. There was a buzz about it being a departure for Disney Studios, but nothing could prepare us for what was about to be unfurled. We were riding the crest of the BEAUTY AND THE BEAST period, elegant, computer enhanced stories which had restored the studio’s reputation after a decade or more of artistic mediocrity. The lights dimmed, the film started, the lyrics of a song began to alert us that the film was not taking itself seriously…even as a cartoon. Then a camel and its rider pulled up, and the rider starts to sell us cheap merchandise as if he were hawking on a late night TV ad. The camera lens movs away from him, and he zips in front of it, imploring us to come back. It was zany, hip, and loose, a rowdy new direction from the old studio.

35 minutes into the film, Robin Williams made his appearance as the Genie of the Lamp. His rapid-fire delivery sent the audience into paroxysms of laughter. Too many one liners to digest in one sitting, and the animators, led by Eric Goldberg, kept up with him in phantasmagorical displays of animation acumen. I remember growing dizzy with laughter, as well as with the speed of the screenplay and editing. It was as if Tex Avery had gotten into the Disney hen house and all hell had broken loose, a merger of disparate styles, the Animation Kingdom in an improvisational, lunatic mode and loving it.

All 90 minutes and 10 seconds are presented here, in immaculate condition – nothing surprising about that. And a two disc load of extras designed to entertain the family for weeks – also the standard DVD Disney formula. The Studio took to DVD like a duck to water.

Inside the box, a pamphlet presents a veritable map of all the menu options is laid out like a family tree. The ‘making of’ material is as vast as the desert Aladdin trod. A Menken/Ashman deleted song ‘found in the Disney vault’. If it were me, finding the out takes from THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, ‘vault’ would be euphemistic for my closet. In Disney’s case, I picture something like the last shot from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARC, only more colorful. There are deleted scenes, games. It goes on.

ALADDIN is one of the more wonderful gems the studio has created in the last 20 years, so much chaotic fun that it may paradoxiclly make you ponder its ‘classic’ status. This much madness can’t be a candidate for, let’s say, the top ten Disney animated features of all time, can it? Well, maybe…

And interestingly, nowhere on the box jacket, or on the inside of the box, including the pamphlet, is Robin Williams’ name mentioned. What a unique company. The film is the star, even though it’s perhaps Williams’ best comic performance.

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