ANIMAL CRACKERS: Blu-ray re-issue (Paramount, 1930) Universal Home Video

We have to give it to the four Marx Brothers; a finer group of madcaps yet to be defined on the movie screen. All of the truly great comedy ‘teams’ from Hollywood’s golden age are unique; Laurel and Hardy, The Three Stooges, Gallagher and Shean, Wheeler and Woolsey, Abbott & Costello, etc. et al. Unlike their brethren however, The Marx Brothers are unhinged intellectuals, railing against authority – or at least, the appearance of it, repeatedly embodied by the long-suffering society matron, invariably played with irrepressible charm by Margaret Dumont (who never understood their humor and is, in fact, playing every last scene legit and for keeps). While some of their later features made away from Paramount Pictures included more elaborate production numbers and romantic scenarios designed to delay, compartmentalize and augment their insanity run amok, allowing audiences infrequent respites between their screwy repartee, the first five films the brothers Marx committed to make between 1929 and 1933 remain one of the few surviving links we have to Vaudeville: the premiere form of popular entertainment in America prior to the advent of motion pictures.  One should never confuse Vaudeville with ‘the legitimate theater’ - the latter, considered ‘highbrow’ and generally frowning upon the former as cheap thrills and skits suitable for the masses.  Yet, it is the combination of verbal and visual slapstick that has kept the Marx Brothers’ legacy fresh and alive for decades since, with the audience treated respectfully by these looney-tune incorrigibles.

Among the brothers, director, Victor Heerman’s Animal Crackers (1930) is highly regarded. Indeed, Groucho would claim it as the best picture they ever made. In its original theatrical release it ran for 99-mins., later pruned to 98-mins. to accommodate Hollywood’s newly instituted code of censorship. However, the picture’s disappearance from public view after only a handful of post-code reissues is owed its own storied history. Paramount’s lack of foresight here, allowed the film’s rights to revert back to playwrights, George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, the Broadway show’s composer, Harry Ruby, and, lyricist, Bert Kalmar. Despite Universal acquiring all of Paramount’s back catalog in an outright purchase under its MCA banner in 1958, gaining distribution rights to Animal Crackers thereafter would prove a legal quagmire. As Groucho Marx was still very much alive in 1978, an aggressive campaign began to get Universal to pursue the rights issue. UCLA hosted an event in which Marx appeared, flanked by a throng of 200 adoring fans, causing the executive brain trust at Universal to sit up and take notice. Given such renewed and overwhelming interest, Universal set about securing the rights to re-issue the picture in a newly refurbished print. Groucho attended both the L.A. and New York premieres, drawing crowds that astonished executives, and, in New York, generating so much buzz, police blockades and escorts needed to be established to handle the crowds. Released nationally shortly thereafter, Animal Crackers would go on to mark its television debut in 1979 on CBS, restored to its pre-code length and derived from a 35mm dupe on loan from the British Film Institute.

The filmic adaptation of Animal Crackers jettisons all but two of the Broadway show’s songs, telescoping the tale of a weekend party given at the grand estate of Mrs. Rittenhouse (Margaret Dumont) to show off a priceless work of art entitled ‘After the Hunt’. The painting’s society debut perfectly dovetails with the highly anticipated arrival of big game hunter, Capt. Jeffrey Spaulding (Groucho), newly returned from his African safari, and ushered into Rittenhouse’s manor by a flamboyant parade of native bearers.  However, a bit of petty larceny is afoot. Rival society matron, Mrs. Whitehead (Margaret Irving) conspires with her jealous daughter, Grace (Kathryn Reece) to switch the masterpiece with a cheap copy Grace did in art school. In tandem, Rittenhouse’s own daughter, Arrabella (Lillian Roth) has less circuitous plans to replace ‘After the Hunt’ with her boyfriend, John Parker’s (Hal Thompson) near perfect replica, thus proving his merits as an aspiring artiste. Once again, Chico and Harpo are the outsiders of the piece as party crashers, Emanuel Ravelli and ‘the professor’ respectively; accomplices in Arrabella’s bait and switch until all three paintings suddenly go missing, necessitating the involvement of Det. Hennessey (Edward Metcalfe).

Morrie Ryskind’s screenplay leaves room for only two of the Broadway shows songs; ‘Hurray for Captain Spaulding’ (later to become Groucho’s reoccurring anthem), and a new ballad, coauthored by the legendary Harry Ruby and Bert Kalmar, ‘So Romantic’ – a duet for Arrabella and John, later reprised by Harpo in an eloquent harp solo. Minimizing these distractions helps to promote the picture’s undiluted Marxian mayhem. More than any other picture, Animal Crackers is devoted to more of what made the brothers Marx renowned. Groucho’s brittle exchanges with Chico, Zeppo and Dumont are the veritable highlights of this piece. But there is also room for Chico’s unique isometrics at the keyboard, often described as piano ‘gunfire’, and an insane game of poker brilliantly executed by Chico and Harpo against two thoroughly nonplussed society matrons, destined to lose more than their good name and social standing by partaking.

Many today will forget Groucho’s infrequent addresses to the audience throughout Animal Crackers, in effect pausing the onscreen action, are a droll burlesque of the motif used by playwright, Eugene O’Neill in Strange Interlude; then, a Pulitzer Prize-winning drama on everyone’s lips, and yet, another smack in the puss of high art vs. its more mainstream lowbrow derivative. Victor Heerman’s direction lacks the inventiveness of The Cocoanuts. Indeed, Animal Crackers remains the closest thing to a filmed stage show, the camera stationary for long, uninterrupted periods. To compensate, the sets depicting Mrs. Rittenhouse’s Long Island estate are uber-lavish in the then-trending deco style, gorgeously absurd architectural atrocities of chic good taste and utterly enormous to a fault. After Animal Crackers the brothers Marx agreed to star in three original properties for Paramount Pictures, beginning with Monkey Business (1931), followed almost immediately by Horse Feathers (1932) and finally, Duck Soup (1933).

Universal’s re-issued singles of the Marx Bros. continues with a stand-alone of Animal Crackers. For the most part, this is a real quality affair, sporting a refurbished master that looks decades younger than it ought. The B&W image is crisp and solid. Occasionally, contrast slightly waffles, looking gently boosted in spots. Otherwise, fine detail is exceptional. Film grain appears indigenous to its source. A hint of intermittent edge enhancement intrudes, and some built in, very subtle flicker persists. But these are minor quibbles for a movie that is 93-years young. And, even more interestingly, the technical advancements in primitive Westrex sound recording, startlingly noticeable between this movie and The Cocoanuts, made and released only the year before it. Noted historian, Jeffrey Vance weighs in with a thorough and fascinating audio commentary.  Bottom line: while debate rages as to whether or not Animal Crackers represents the pinnacle of the Marx Bros. screen successes, there is very little to challenge the notion Universal has done its due diligence in preserving this movie for posterity in hi-def. Recommended only if you do not already own the Marx Bros. Blu-ray box set from 2016, as this disc is a virtually rehash of quality and content.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1

 

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