WONDER MAN (Samuel Goldwyn, 1945) HBO Home Video

A veteran of only 17 movies, comedian Danny Kaye’s greatest success, arguably, did not derive from his aspirations to be a great actor, singer, dancer, or even musician – as accomplished as he proved to be in virtually all of these pursuits – but rather, as UNICEF’s unflinching philanthropist and humanitarian. That Kaye’s body of work in Hollywood has long-since been allowed – too long, in fact – to fade into obscurity, is an obscene oversight owed the several companies now in possession of the rights to his film catalog, systematically to have deprived us of his virtuosity on the screen. Viewed from today’s vantage, the movies Danny Kaye made for Samuel Goldwyn - among them, Bruce Humberstone’s 1945’s comedy gem, Wonder Man - have a vaguely ‘formulaic’ quality, ably diffused by Kaye’s undeniable congeniality and seemingly effortless charm. In Wonder Man, Kaye gets to play both sides of his persona – the publicly flamboyant, dapper man-about-town, Buster ‘Buzzy’ Bellew and Edwin Dingle, his intellectually bookish twin brother. The dichotomy here is, I think, well worth noting, as Kaye’s own life would prove its own parable of contradictions.

The youngest of 3 boys, born David Daniel Kaminsky, and, a high school dropout no less, Danny Kaye ran away to Florida while still in his teens. Yet, if his aspirations to become a surgeon remained unfulfilled in his lifetime, Kaye’s comedic styling, to brighten many a heart throughout his career, illustrated the power of humor in cutting out the tumors of both his own, and the world’s anxieties during those careworn years of WWII. Kaye ought to have been an insurance investigator or a dental assistant, except that he proved tragically inept at both jobs. He was actually fired for using the dental drill to do woodwork! Instead, he became part of a Vaudeville dance act in 1933. This proved so successful, Kaye embarked upon a world tour. Upon his return to the U.S., he took whatever work he could find, until he landed a contract with Educational Pictures in 1937 – as short-lived as it proved uneventful. Undaunted, Kaye then appeared on Broadway in The Straw Hat Revue. This barely lasted 10 weeks, but nevertheless opened other doors of opportunity, most notably, to co-star with Gertrude Lawrence on Broadway in Lady in the Dark – a colossal smash. At the age of 35, Kaye marked his film debut for Samuel Goldwyn in Up in Arms (1944) – the beginning of a semi-beautiful friendship, as Goldwyn pressed for Kaye to have his prominent nose ‘fixed’ (which Kaye absolutely refused to do) but did allow for his blonde tresses to be dyed henna-red – the better to photograph in Technicolor.

Wonder Man costars Kaye’s frequent leading lady, Virginia Mayo – like Kaye – plucked from relative obscurity by Goldwyn and made a prominent featured player of his celebrated ‘Goldwyn girls’ before rising up and out of that chorine of beauties to distinguish herself as something more. The Missouri-born starlet began her career in Vaudeville, working her way up to Broadway alongside Eddie Cantor in 1941’s Banjo Eyes, the play that got her noticed. Groomed by Goldwyn, Mayo was first loaned out to ‘test’ her likability with audiences, given a real/reel opportunity to shine in RKO’s Seven Days Ashore and then, The Princess and the Pirate alongside Bob Hope (both movies made and successfully released in 1944). Wonder Man marks Mayo’s first co-starring effort with Kaye and proved so popular, she was signed again to costar with Kaye in The Kid from Brooklyn (1946), arguably, their best effort. That same year, Mayo marked a turning point in her career, eschewing her wholesomeness to play the unrepentant gold digger in The Best Years of Our Lives – a classic by an artistic barometer ascribed to motion pictures. Kaye and Mayo would be teamed twice more, for the runaway smash, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947), and the disastrously unsuccessful, A Song Is Born (1948).

Wonder Man is also noteworthy for its assortment of brilliant character actors: Vera-Ellen, then, just beginning, as Midge Mallon – Buzzy’s gal/pal, who cannot understand the uncommon change suddenly come over her lover; S.Z. Sakall, as Schmidt, the harried owner of a delicatessen where a thoroughly confused Edwin struggles to resist the otherworldly possession of his body by his deceased brother; slick Steve Cochran as Ten Grand Jackson – the underworld figure responsible for having Buzzy bumped off and dumped into the lake at Prospect Park; Donald Woods, as the long-suffering second-string love interest, Monte Rossen, whom Midge eventually agrees to wed after being stood up at the altar by Buzzy for the umpteenth time; Otto Kruger, as the frazzled D.A. eager to put Ten Grand away at Edward’s expense, and finally, Edward Brophy, as Ten Grand’s right-hand goon, ‘Torso’.   The picture also features several delightful musical performances by Kaye as Buzzy – Bali Boogie, written by Kaye’s real-life wife, Sylvia, and featuring Vera-Ellen at his side (“a-wakka-zoing-zoing, a-kawaka-choo-choo” to those who know it), So In Love – tapped to perfection by Vera-Ellen and the Goldwyn Girls, and two novelty numbers, Otchi Tchorniya, in which Edwin, as Buzzy, playing a Russian baritone, suffers through the aria while afflicted with terrific allergies, and, the operatic climax – where Kaye, as Edwin, must expose Ten Grand while attempting – hilariously – to be a part of the Metropolitan Opera’s debut of Aida.

The picture kicks into high-gear almost from the moment we hear the big-band infused rendition of the Bali Boogie under the main titles, immediately to segue to our arrival at the ‘Pelican’ nightclub, where we are introduced to performer/celebrity, Buzzy Bellew (a.k.a. Buster Dingle). Desperately in love with his fellow performer, Midge Mallon, Buzzy, who has dirt on Ten Grand Jackson, and isn’t afraid to use it threateningly, gets plugged by Torso and Jackson’s other thug, Chimp (Allen Jenkins) – his lifeless remains thereafter dumped into the river near the footbridge at Prospect Park without anyone being wiser to his sudden disappearance. Alas, Buzzy’s ghost will not remain silent for very long. Channeling a connection to his identical twin, Edwin – of the more serious and book-learned ilk is a problem, as the brothers have not seen or spoken to one another in some time. Moreover, Edwin does not believe in ghosts…at first. But when Buzzy proves himself to be quite dead, performing several feats that cannot be otherwise explained away, Edwin reluctantly agrees to help his late brother expose Ten Grand Jackson for the crime of two murders – his own, and that of a fan dancer, Choo-Choo Laverne (a.k.a. Minnie Smith).    

Alas, pretending to impersonate his more flamboyant brother will not be easy. Indeed, Edwin fumbles his testimony with the D.A., pretending to be Buzzy, though without any of Buzzy’s knowledge of Minnie’s murder. In the meantime, Edwin becomes enamored with librarian, Ellen Shanley (Virginia Mayo), much to the chagrin of Buzzy’s bride-to-be, Midge who cannot understand why her fiancée has suddenly forsaken her romantic charms. As Ten Grand needs a little reminder of how precariously his own life hangs in the balance, Buzzy takes possession of Edwin’s body and effectively performs Buzzy’s nightclub act at the Pelican, creating quite a stir for Jackson, Torso and Chimp, who firmly believed their nemesis was quite dead. Jackson orders his men to ‘finish the job’ resulting in a perilous set of circumstances as Edwin must now avoid his own murder while desperate to convince the D.A. he knows the particulars of Jackson’s former crimes. While Ellen is quite sympathetic to Edwin’s seemingly bizarre ravings about being haunted by his dead brother, doubtful of their validity, but taking moderate pity on Edwin nonetheless, Midge has had quite enough. She elects to wed the Pelican Nightclub’s owner, Monte instead. Meanwhile, as Torso and Chimp close in, Ellen begins to suspect Edwin was, in fact, telling her the truth all along. Momentarily escaping to the opera, Edwin disguises himself as the lead tenor, then attempts to gain the attention of the D.A. (attending in the first balcony) by encoding the opera lyrics with particulars exposing Ten Grand’s murderous activities. Realizing Edwin is in grave danger, the D.A. has his men move in on Torso and Chimp, waiting for Edwin in the wings. In the resulting moments, Ellen, and a more liberated Edwin, are romantically reunited with Edwin promising her they have seen the last of his brother’s haunting. Ironically, this is not the case as a nearby jewelry box springs forth with Buzzy’s bust, smiling to declare, “I’m a little devil, ain’t I?”

Wonder Man is a charming little programmer from the Goldwyn stables, effectively tricked out in glorious Technicolor. The screenplay by Don Hartman, Melville Shavelson and Philip Rapp, adapted from Arthur Sheekman’s original story, developed by Jack Jevne and Eddie Moran, moves like gangbusters, making the implausible appear ‘plausible’, or, at the very least, as effortless and diverting as a whimsical comedy about death and the supernatural can get. Kaye is in rare form here, lending ballast and distinction to the two roles. We really do believe he is two people trapped in one body. One of Hollywood’s true treasures, S.Z. Sakall, appears only in cameo as Schmidt, whose inability to grasp a conversation between Edwin and the otherwise invisible Buzzy leads to all sorts of misinterpretations regarding Edwin’s sanity. These scenes are a riot, especially when, after Edwin flees Schmidt’s delicatessen in a panic, Ellen telephones to learn what has happened to her boyfriend. “You mean he didn’t come back?” a befuddled Schmidt inquires, “Congratulations…you don’t know how lucky you are!”  

Interesting to consider Kaye’s greatest flourish of success – at least, in movies, was already behind him by 1948 – the year he marked his debut at London’s Palladium and brought down the house with such applause, the royal family actually left their box to experience the act in the front row. Kaye’s last picture for Goldwyn was 1952’s Hans Christian Andersen, although wildly popular at the time, in hindsight, hardly his best. That same year, Kaye hosted the 24^th annual Academy Awards. A year later, he established his own production company – Dena – producing Knock on Wood (1953) before branching into television in 1956. During this time, Kaye also made several movies for other companies, mostly as a freelancer – his most successful outings, 1954’s White Christmas, and, 1956’s The Court Jester – both for Paramount. Increasingly, however, Kaye was discovering his heart pulled him toward other pursuits. Interestingly, it was not until 1960, with the television broadcast of his 10-country tour as goodwill ambassador, that the public first learned of Kaye’s unflinching commitment to UNICEF, interpolating his humanitarian efforts with a one-hour broadcast special in which he entertained the children of the world with his inimitable sight gags, requiring no interpreter to be appreciated.

TV work filled the last act of Kaye’s ‘professional’ career – as host of his own program from 1963-67, winning 4 Emmys and a Peabody for his work. Entering his emeritus years, Kaye became something of a regular on the popular ‘interview’ circuit, and also found time to make cameo or guest appearances on other TV shows as well. Twice recognized for his artistry by AMPAS, first, with an honorary Oscar in 1955, then, with the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 1982, Kaye’s final appearances on television came as he marked Disneyland’s 25^th anniversary and EPCOT’s inaugural. With profits derived from residuals for his recording career, begun for Capitol Records in 1956, in addition to his investment in the Lear Corp. and involvement in Kaye/Smith Enterprises – cofounded by Lester Smith, Danny Kaye continued to do his good works for UNICEF. And although Kaye’s own sexuality came into question when author, Donald Spoto inferred the actor had had an ongoing affair with Sir Laurence Olivier, subsequent and thorough investigations to vet this claim one way or the other have unearthed nothing beyond Kaye’s devotion to his wife, Sylvia, and their only daughter, Dena.  

When Kaye died of heart failure, brought on by internal bleeding and complications due to hepatitis C in 1987, the hole he left behind in the hearts and minds of children around the world was immeasurable. By then, Kaye had received the accolades of the earth, the Kennedy Center Honor, a knighthood from Denmark’s Queen Margrethe II, the Chevalier of the French Legion of Honor, and, posthumously, the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Ronald Reagan; these, in addition to several Golden Globes, and, the Lions Club International Foundation Humanitarian Award. And although his legacy as an entertainer has somewhat diminished with the passage of time, mostly kept alive through memories left intact in the hearts and minds of his aging audience, the movies Kaye made during his brief heyday in Hollywood are perennially satisfying reminders of why we love Danny Kaye best. Whimsy ages, you see. Artistry, mercifully, does not.

Wonder Man is rarely seen anywhere these days, thanks to Warner Home Video’s short-sightedness in marketing most of the Goldwyn library to home video. When the Goldwyn assets were under HBO, Wonder Man received a stand-alone DVD release back in 1997. After Warner acquired HBO as a subsidiary, Wonder Man remained out of circulation for decades, resurfacing as a Warner Archive 4-pack in MOD format in 2015. Since then, nothing. For shame. Wonder Man’s original elements were – at least in 1997 – in fairly good shape. As remastering and digital authoring techniques were in their infancy then, Wonder Man ought to have been a candidate for re-emergence on home video now, arguably, requiring less restoration, though decidedly a badly needed video master. Alas, no. And nothing on the horizon either. Wonder Man on DVD was a competent effort in 1997. In 2021 – hardly. Colors remain remarkably rich and saturated, but time stamp marks are everywhere. So too, is the image understandably soft and unrefined. Contrast is fairly solid. A few of the matte process shots, to create two Danny Kaye’s in the same frame, suffer from slight desaturation, a result of the primitive opticals used to create the illusion. And age-related artifacts, while not prevalent, are nevertheless present. This one could certainly use a Warner Archive hi-def upgrade. The audio on this effort is 2.0 mono and adequate.

Aside: as of Dec. 30^th, 2020, we have all learned of the dismissal of VP and WAC archivist, George Feltenstein from Warner Home Video as part of the new management’s shake-up that is certain to have long-lasting ramifications – an epic blow to film lovers everywhere who relied, on Feltenstein’s expertise, but also his unerring affection for film art from virtually every vintage, as a huge proponent of Warner’s archive releases on DVD and Blu-ray. Precisely what this means for the future of WAC remains open for discussion. But I would sincerely venture a guess the answer is ‘not good’ – not good at all. So, will Wonder Man ever arrive on home video in a manner befitting its old Technicolor glory. Well, one can be the optimist. But I’m not that person. So, for now – see this silly little comedy while you can, however you can. It deserves your time and praise.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

0