A DAY AT THE RACES: Blu-ray (MGM, 1937) Warner Archive
When The Marx Bros.
decamped Paramount Pictures in the fall of 1935 it was under a decided cloud of
suspicion that their best days as ribald anti-establishment comedians were
decidedly behind them; an
assumption predicated on Duck Soup (1935) their most costly picture to
date, performing a decided belly flop at the box office. Front man, Groucho was
even more apoplectic upon learning brother, Zeppo had decided to walk away as
the act’s ‘straight man’. Was this the end of the Marx Brothers? Decidedly not,
as Chico – an avid lady’s man, gambler and all-around bon vivant had been
playing cards with the likes of MGM’s wunderkind, Irving Thalberg. Apart from
amusing the studio’s VP in Charge of Production, Thalberg was an ardent admirer
of the brothers’ stagecraft and early film spectacles. And hence, a new deal
was struck at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer – the Cartier of all the majors. Alas, L.B. Mayer was unimpressed by Thalberg’s
latest acquisition. In the years leading up to Thalberg’s untimely passing,
Thalberg and Mayer had butted heads when plying their disparate executive logic
to the studio’s impressive output. Mayer
wanted to make more movies cheaply. Thalberg endeavored to spend more on single
productions, making them vastly superior to anything made by their competition.
So long as Thalberg’s uncanny knack for cultivating talent and topics the
public flocked to see made the studio and its stockholders money, Mayer was
powerless to influence or reign-in his VP’s spending.
But then,
tragedy struck. Thalberg suddenly died of pneumonia at age 37, leaving a vast
assortment of lavishly mounted projects in Metro’s hopper to be completed in
his absence. There is little to deny, had Thalberg lived, the Marx Bros.’ at
MGM would have been quite different. Indeed, their foray at the studio – A Night
at the Opera (1935) was celebrated as a renaissance. Important to note, it is a decidedly
different Marx Bros. who appear at MGM than those familiarized on celluloid at
Paramount. And it isn’t simply the retirement of Zeppo to have changed the
chemistry in their output. While the executive brain trust at Paramount was
contented to merely shoot movie tableaus of the brothers’ work honed to a
finite precision on the stage, Thalberg’s ambition for the comedy act was to
transform it into a truly cinematic experience. So, along with the Marx Bros.’ irreverence
for authority came the trappings of MGM; chiefly, in production numbers inserted
at intervals to showcase the studio’s opulence. Alas, the fate of the Marx Bros.
was sealed almost from the outset of their arrival on the backlot.
Mayer did not
share in Thalberg’s verve for their particular brand of comedy. Worse, while
shooting A Night at the Opera, Groucho insulted Mayer who, showing up on
set one afternoon and asking Groucho to explain the purpose of a particular
scene was met with, “What do you care? We’re working for Thalberg. Not you.”
Badly done, if for no other reason than to have firmly chomped on the proverbial
‘hand’ feeding them. Groucho believed his cache with Thalberg afforded him a
certain autonomy. Perhaps. It was, after all, Groucho who set the tone for
their working relationship. Initially invited into Thalberg’s private office
for a contractual tête-à -tête, Groucho and the brothers became increasingly
incensed when the V.P.’s attentions were redirected to other projects for which
Thalberg had to excuse himself from their presence. After the fourth such
interruption, Groucho called down to MGM’s commissary to send up three potatoes.
When Thalberg returned to his office sometime later, he was amused to discover Groucho
and his brethren, stripped naked and roasting their potatoes in his fireplace.
Thalberg was
determined A Day at the Races (1937) should eclipse A Night at the Opera
in very way. To this end, he set about meticulously crafting a lavish program,
culled from time-honored Marx Bros. sketches, new comedy material written by an
uncredited Al Boasberg and Leon Gordon, several opulent, if strangely bizarre
musical numbers, and, a screenplay by George S. Kaufman and Carey Wilson to tie
everything together. It all looked very impressive on paper. But then, Thalberg
was suddenly gone and with him, the necessary protection for the brothers to achieve
great things. As too much had already been spent on A Day at the Races
to cancel it outright, Mayer proceeded according to Thalberg’s likes. Curiously
lost in the shuffle was the melodic love ballad, ‘A Message from the Man in
the Moon’ – recorded by co-star, Allan Jones (fitted into the Zeppo role)
but never filmed, although it is referenced everywhere in the picture,
including the main titles and a few choice lines warbled by Groucho to the
long-suffering and unofficial ‘fifth’ Marx brother, Margaret Dumont before the
final fade out.
Even more curious still,
the surviving score by Bronislaw Kaper, Walter Jurmann, and Gus Kahn is a real
mixed bag. ‘On Blue Venetian Waters’ is the most striking oddity. It
begins with Allan Jones’ enviable vocal, serenading a bevy of beauties in a stylized
gondola set against a towering spray of fountainheads. As the gondola departs
and the waters recede, we are introduced to an art deco petrified forest and a
swirling proscenium of dancers, staged in the fashion of Busby Berkeley, but
without Berkeley’s precision. Emerging from the fray; specialty dancer, Vivien Fey
who pirouettes on toe shoes. ‘On Blue Venetian Waters’ is later reprised
by Chico at the piano and Harpo – appropriately, at the harp. Clearly, MGM
thought it had a hit parade pop tune with this one. Allan Jones warbles the
largely forgettable, ‘Tomorrow Is Another Day.’ And then, there is the
wildly out of place lindy hop routine, ‘All God's Chillun Got Rhythm’, a
showcase for Ivie Anderson – who, otherwise, has no purpose in this movie. It
also features some stellar stepping from Willamae Ricker, Snookie Beasley, Ella
Gibson, George Greenidge, Dot Miller, Johnny Innis, Norma Miller and Leon James.
Groucho was also extremely disappointed that his own specialty number, ‘Dr.
Hackenbush’ was cut.
If Thalberg had
lived, A Day at the Races might not have devolved so quickly into a behind
the scenes tug-o-war, going through eighteen drafts, with Al Boasberg being
stripped of his screen credit after a contractual dispute. The plot begins in
earnest with a defeated Judy Standish (Maureen O’Sullivan) looking on as ambitious
attempts made by her right-hand, Tony (Chico Marx) to lure visitors to attend
her sanitarium are ignored in favor of guests departing for the nearby race
track, hotels and nightclubs. It seems the end of the line for Judy, as banker,
J.D. Morgan (Douglas Drumbrille) holds the mortgage and plots to foreclose to
build his new casino. But Tony conspires to get wealthy hypochondriac, Emily
Upjohn (Margaret Dumont) to fork out for a respite at the sanitarium. Pronounced
as cured by the sanitarium’s doctors, Mrs. Upjohn makes plans to place herself
in the care of Dr. Hugo Z. Hackenbush (Groucho Marx) who, unbeknownst to her,
is a horse doctor. To thwart Upjohn’s exit, Tony gets Judy to appoint
Hackenbush the new head of the sanitarium, thus assuring its most profitable
client will remain in their care.
Meanwhile, Judy's
beau, Gil Stewart (Allan Jones) has spent his entire life-savings on Hi-Hat – a
racehorse he believes has potential to win prize money to save Judy’s
sanitarium. With no money to pay for the
horse’s feed, Gil, Tony and jockey, Stuffy (Harpo Marx) resort to tricks to
steal enough cash and keep their fledgling enterprise afloat. Morgan engages Dr.
Leopold X. Steinberg (Sig Rumann) to expose Hackenbush as a fraud with the Florida
Medical Board. Mercifully, Groucho intercepts the call and creates numerous diversions
until Steinberg and his crony, Whitmore (Leonard Ceeley) give up. At a gala water
carnival, Gil, Tony and Stuffy perform. But now, Whitmore tries to get
Hackenbush fired by having Mrs. Upjohn catch him in a clinch with temptress,
Flo (Esther Muir), As Stuffy gets wind of this plot, he poses as the house
detective and intercepts their discovery. Meanwhile, Judy discovers Hi-Hat is a
jumper, not a racer, and encourages Gil to enter the horse in the steeplechase.
During the race, Hi-Hat collides with Morgan’s horse, making it appear as though
Morgan’s horse has won. However, when the mud is cleared, Hi-Hat is revealed as
the victor. Judy’s sanitarium is saved. Mrs. Upjohn forgives Hackenbush and
agrees to marry him. The entire cast rejoices.
A Day at the
Races is a farce-laden spectacle directed by Sam Wood, more famously regarded
as a proficient artist of the celluloid drama. However, its gargantuan set
pieces aside, it really is a mixed blessing at best. The prolonged ‘examination’
of Mrs. Upjohn by Hackenbush, Tony and Stuffy – culminating with a waterlogged
fire alarm triggering Hi-Hat to come to their rescue, is overwrought in its
silliness. The timing just seems off for a Marx Bros. skit, the gags running on
to a point of abject tedium. It’s all exacerbated by the decidedly ‘un-funny’
reactions of Sig Rumann and Douglas Drumbrille. The most riotous moments are
the ‘Tootsie-Frootsie’ ice cream skit where Tony repeatedly sells Hackenbush
bits and pieces of a code-deciphering text so he can place a valid bet on a
pony, and, Hackenbush’s interrupted flagrante delicto with Flo, culminating with
her being stuffed beneath the cushions of a sofa. As previously discussed, the production
numbers in A Day at the Races lack cohesion. Their clumsy staging is
only partially obfuscated by MGM’s A-lister production values. Alas, each
number interrupts the plot without actually contributing to it. Margaret Dumont’s
charms warm her scenes with Groucho. They endure. But Maureen O’Sullivan and
Allan Jones lack the appropriate chemistry as the ‘young lovers’ of the piece.
A Day at the Races was the costliest Marx Bros. movie yet. And while it proved a huge hit with audiences, the Marx Bros.’ prominence as bonified comedy legends, thereafter, was allowed to languish. Without Thalberg’s advocacy, Mayer began their constructive dismantling; first, by loaning them to RKO to make a quick buck for the inferior, Room Service (1938), then by recalling the brothers for three homegrown, but rapidly executed programmers,
At the Circus (1939), Go
West (1940) and The Big Store (1941), merely designed to exploit
their waning popularity, without spending anything to actually advance their
status in the industry. Disgruntled, the Marx Bros. departed MGM, supposedly to
retire for good. It lasted barely 4 years, thanks to mounting gambling debts.
Returning for the brutally B-budgeted flicks, A Night in Casablanca
(1946) and Love Happy (1949), the Marx Bros. un-officially bowed out.
While virtually all continued to appear in cameos, either on TV or at the
movies, they were never again to unite as ‘the act’ that had made them cultural
touchstones in the art of comedy.
A Day at the
Races arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive in a stunningly handsome
hi-def transfer with no complaints. Intermittently, the image tends to appear ever
so slightly soft, perhaps the result of Joseph Ruttenberg’s B&W
cinematography, rather than any grave flaw in this remastering effort. It all
looks quite lovely, and decades younger than it ought. Gray scale tonality is beautiful.
Blacks are velvety rich. Whites are pristine. Age-related artifacts have been
eradicated. Film grain appears ever-so-slight homogenized, although untoward
tinkering with DNR does not appear to be the culprit here. The 2.0 DTS audio is
marvelous. Ported over from the old DVD, an audio commentary from author, Glenn
Mitchell. We also get the vintage half-hour documentary, On Your Marx
hosted by Dom De Luise. It’s interlaced and looks horrible, but has great interviews
with Maureen O’Sullivan, Irving Brecher, Carl Reiner, Larry Gelbart and Robert
Osborne. Three MGM cartoons and one short subject, plus audio-only recordings
of ‘A Message from the Man in the Moon’ and ‘Dr. Hackenbush’, and
a well-worn trailer, round out the goodies. Bottom line: running just under
2hrs., A Day at the Races wears thin in spots. But it remains the final testament
to the Marx Bros. genius; also, that of the late Irving Thalberg, who would
have likely made many more such forays on the brothers’ behalf, had fate not so
cruelly intervened in that life cut short by illness. Is this their best work?
Hardly. Is it a lot of fun? You bet. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
3.5
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