I enjoy the Marx Brothers' movies because they remind me other people also realize what it's like living in a small dorm room.

"I am a Marxist, of the Groucho Variety"
Movie Review: A Night at the Opera. The Marx Brothers, Kitty Carlisle, and Margaret Dumont. MGM, 1935.

Classic movies are big around the Shrine. Dan introduced us to the labyrinthine world of Hitchcock fairly early along in our friendships with him, a recommendation I am indebted to. I'm always singing the praises of Casablanca, myself, and Em enjoys To Catch a Thief. Andy, well, he's sticking to Jackie Chan for the moment (and the Hong Kong master really does have his own particular genius, I must admit) but just give us time.

Why the Marx Brothers? It's usually a thankless task to dissect humor, but it's worth considering. I love the guys, I really do, but what makes it better to watch some black-and-white actor with a bad Italian accent hit a fat policeman over the head with a frying pan than, say, any gag from Jim Carrey's oeuvre? Is it just because it's old? Some of the tricks may be the same, for people have been laughing at the same jokes since the days of Mausoleus of Halicarnassus, but there's a real comic genius at the heart of the Marx Brother's uproarious work. In A Night at the Opera, it's the wonderful combination of three of my favorite things: opera, anarchic wit, and of course, the inevitable frying pan gag.

Sure, it's just comedy, but it's well-made comedy. There's a certain pure pleasure in seeing something done well, even if it may seem a trifle plebean. Like the perfect hamburger, for example: it may not be coq au vin, but if done properly it is still heavenly. Not a moment is wasted in A Night at the Opera: everything advances both the plot and is also hysterically funny. Even something so seemingly-simple as signing a contract (with duplicate copies--you know what duplicates are, right? "Sure, they's five kids up in Canada," says Chico, obliviously) culminates in Groucho and Chico essentially ripping the thing to shreds and then Chico can't even sign the thing because he's illiterate.

Surprisingly, those obligatory moments where Chico demonstrates his piano skills and Harpo plucks his harp don't bring the show to a screeching halt; Harpo's music is heavenly, a bit of a chaser for our ears, while Chico has the funniest hands in show-business. Even so, the best demonstration of their ability to make even the most mundane moments seem comic comes in the more leisurely Animal Crackers, where Chico pounds out the song Somewhere my Love Lies Sleeping (With a Male Chorus). But A Night at the Opera is still wonderful nonetheless.

For here they manage to take pure physical humor to a whole new level, as in the famous "Overcrowded Cabin" routine, which defies description and must be seen to be believed. Slapstick is punctuated by uproarious bon-mots and verbal humor gets a spike of juice by the occasional kick in the pants. Even a sight gag gets its very own caption:

Groucho: You see that man over there eating spaghetti?
Mrs. Claypool: No...
Groucho: Well, you see the spaghetti, don't ya?

Nothing's absurdist here: that can be funny in its own way, but for two hours, it's a bit much. Instead, the real joy is seeing Groucho, Chico and Harpo in supreme control of every humorous jot or tittle, even in situations where Our Heros (disguised as ridculously bearded Russian aviators) find themselves being pursued by an angry mob down the steps of New York's City Hall.

It helps, of course, their supporting cast is almost as good as they are. Margaret Dumont is possibly the best straight-man (person?) Groucho could ever ask for, acting both as love interest and shocked foil to his insanity. Walter W. King does a good job of chewing the scenery as the evil tenor Lasspari, though he also gets a couple of good laughs out of us simply by having played the lead from I Paggliaci, which requires him to wear a ridiculous clown costume (with the sourest of looks on his face, no less). Kitty Carlisle is somewhat of a cypher, but a lovely cyper. Her role may be rather sketchy beyond here serene beauty, but at the same time, she gives her part enough spunk and class to make it interesting. Plus, as the female half of the obligatory sweet Young Lovers, she helps bring the movie to a suitably operatic and uplifting close. You can't ask for much more than that, especially after having just watched Harpo brilliantly demolish the entire backstage of the New York Opera Company.