Ever Since I Met You, I’ve Swept You Off My Feet: Reflecting on Animal Crackers

The year is 1928.  (Well, not now, of course, but back then it was 1928.  Do try to keep up, will you?)  At any rate, the Four Marx Brothers were the toast of Broadway in 1928.  The Marxes’ first Broadway show, 1924’s I’ll Say She Is, was a success and a vindication of millions of years when the team was the toast of Vaudeville.  For the follow-up, playwrights George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind and composer Irving Berlin all joined forces to pen the Marx Brothers’ 1925 follow-up, The Cocoanuts.  The Cocoanuts proved to be another triumph on the stage and the public was eager for another Marx extravaganza.

That extravaganza turned out to be the musical comedy Animal Crackers.  Returning to book duties were Kaufman and Ryskind.  This time the music would be handled by Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby.  (I wonder whatever became of that Berlin fellow.  Since he never provided music to another Marx production, I can only imagine that he vanished into obscurity, never to be heard from again.) Even with the nightly stage demands of Animal Crackers, the Marxes concurrently filmed a version of The Cocoanuts for Paramount during the daylight hours.  In 1929, the all-talking, all-singing comedy of The Cocoanuts wowed movie audiences who were thankful simply because they were getting tired of seeing Al Jolson in everything else.  A film adaptation of Animal Crackers for Paramount followed in 1930.  Afterwards, the Four Marx Brothers left for the greener hills and greener backs of Hollywood.

What could one possibly say about Animal Crackers at this point?  The play is 95 years old.  It was written specifically for the Marx Brothers, who have all come and gone.  I was going to interview someone associated with the stage show, but no other cast members are still alive either.  Neither are the authors nor the composers nor the producer nor the chorus girls nor the director nor the theater ushers nor the theater critics nor most of the people who were simply strolling on the sidewalk outside of the theater.  By 2023 or whatever year you’re reading this, everyone in the cast and crew has shuffleboarded off this mortal coil long ago. 

Even if there might be someone above ground who possibly has clear memories of seeing the play’s original run in 1928-1929, they would be hovering around 100+ years old by now.  The Marxes never again did the entire stage show during their lifetimes.  Of course, Animal Crackers itself is occasionally revived for the stage, but as the play was written specifically for the Marxes, those playing the Marx characters must be as close to letter perfect as possible, which is terribly daunting to say the least.  (Well, you try finding a guy who is proficient at shooting the piano keys while tossing off banter in an Italian accent to the Groucho character.  And even if you do find that guy, now go find an incredible bewigged harpist who is adept at sight gags and whistling.)  For all intents and purposes, Animal Crackers is dead.

And yet…Animal Crackers still lives!  Somehow, someway.  Truth be told, it is no great mystery since the film version has been available in a myriad of formats because Paramount and now current rights holder Universal still see profits from a now 90+ year old film.  Yes, I know that the film of Animal Crackers is not the stage show of Animal Crackers.  (Then again, the curtain rod of Animal Crackers is not the radiator fluid of Animal Crackers either, but you don’t hear me bringing it up!)  Far from being a note-for-note adaptation, the film version of Animal Crackers that does exist is a truncated form of the stage show of the same name.  (And yes, I said truncated and yes, I am using the term correctly, thank you.) 

But I’ve yammered on long enough, what exactly is the story of Animal Crackers?  Mrs. Rittenhouse (Margaret Dumont) is throwing a gala party at her extravagant home.  Wanting the party to be successful, Mrs. Rittenhouse invites the famous African explorer, Captain Jeffery T. Spaulding (Groucho Marx) as her guest of honor.  She also is showcasing a famous painting that is owned by art collector and former fish peddler Roscoe W. Chandler (Louis Sorin). 

These events, combined with the live music and livelier larceny provided by Emanuel Ravelli (Chico Marx) and The Professor (Harpo Marx), the theft and replacement of that famous painting, the speech about an unbelievable journey to Africa, and the incredible number of knives being dropped, should all make Mrs. Rittenhouse’s party the event of whatever season parties are held in.

Thankfully, when it comes to the Marx Brothers, plots are convenient to have and then just as convenient to forget since they don’t really matter.  What matters is this: the Marx Brothers running wholeheartedly amok in a matron of society’s Long Island mansion.  That’s it.  Now if that isn’t your cup of tea, give it back because I’m sure the owner of that tea would like to finish it.  I’ll bet that you don’t even own that cup!  If this does sound like a lovely time, then come along and join the hootenanny that is Animal Crackers.

You see, and I hope you do otherwise you’re wasting your time facing this screen, I adore the Marx Brothers.  The first time I saw Animal Crackers was when I was about six years old.  My parents had taped it off the local network affiliate’s late show.  (This was a huge event in my household.  The very idea that my father could successfully program a VCR put him in my youthful eyes on the same level of regard as heart surgeons or as engineers who built the lunar rover.) Since the film was taped with all the commercials as well, it wasn’t until many moons later that I realized that the film moves quite briskly when unencumbered with the barrage of “Where’s the beef?” ads and messaging about the deadly horrors of static cling.

Even with the bottomless array of local advertisement interruptions ingrained on the tape, Animal Crackers still clicked with my young psyche.  It touched a nerve.  I couldn’t get enough of these Brothers Marx.  Given this film, it is understandable.  In my humble, overreaching, and rather smug opinion, the Four Marx Brothers are at their peak in Animal Crackers; their confidence at an all-time high.  Certainly, they would produce some more cinematic gems and comic highlights, but right here in Animal Crackers is where the boys became film legends.

Groucho would forever be the fast talking, mile-a-second quip and insult machine, throwing absurd non-sequiturs and puns with aplomb.  Harpo would be the girl-chasing, sight gag-producing force of nature, providing small time thieving and tender harp ballads with ease.  Chico would be the dialect-laden punster, bashing the language in exchanges with Groucho, instigating scams to line his own pockets, and shooting the keys of the piano with a smirk.  And Zeppo…well…let’s just say Zeppo was never better onscreen than he was in this film.  (No, really!  He even gets some funny lines.  Seriously!)

I would be beyond remiss, in fact quite a far distance away from remiss, if I didn’t mention the wondrous Margaret Dumont.  She was a stage veteran with the Marxes, later becoming such a vital part of the Marx films that she became known as the Fifth Marx Brother even though she certainly wasn’t a male and the Marxes already had a fifth brother.  However, Dumont was that important.  She was the rarefied air of civilized dignity amid the chaos the Marxes brought to the circumstances.  And even though the continuous printing of the legend that she didn’t get the jokes stubbornly refuses to die, Margaret Dumont certainly understood every single word.  She was a tower of respectability that stood firm during the Marx earthquakes.  Bless you, Maggie.

Also, Louis Sorin as the stuffy Roscoe W. Chandler is one of the best, if not the best, straight men that ever worked with Groucho.  Sorin was also in the stage production of Animal Crackers and watching his scenes with Harpo and Chico as well as his interplay with Groucho’s Captain Spaulding are significant treats among the many treats offered here.  Watching Sorin trying to keep up with Groucho’s barrage of verbal nonsense and intricate cul-de-sacs of pointless conversation is a joy, like taking cranberries and stewing them like applesauce, so they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does.  Now you tell me what you know.

Seemingly, hundreds of musical numbers and characters from the stage version were thrown aside for the film version.  That being said, and said rather well I think, it appears that most, if not all, of the original third act has been lopped off for the movie.  This is a bit regrettable due to the loss of the “We’re Four of the Three Musketeers” song which was performed by all four Marxes on the stage but was never filmed or otherwise recorded by them.  However, I don’t believe a more than two-hour Marx film comedy would flow nearly as well, so many of these edits are understandable.    

With these cuts and revisions, the musical number rate overall drops sharply after the first fifteen minutes of Animal Crackers.  We’re left with a musical comedy that incredibly does not have a lot of music in it!  Yet to be frank, I go to see a Marx Brothers film to see the Marx Brothers, so cutting any non-Marx fluffery is okay with me.  To be another Frank (preferably Sinatra), for my money most of the male leads and female ingenues in Marx escapades are as dull as dishwater anyway and they sing about just as well.

However, to be fair to Lillian Roth, who wasn’t in the stage production, she is a nice addition to the cast here.  Roth plays Mrs. Rittenhouse’s daughter Arabella with a bit of spunk in what otherwise could have been a thankless and colorless role.  She gets to sing a nice musical number that was added to the film version, which is surprising considering the scads of original stage songs that were cut out.  Roth was sent to do Animal Crackers as a sort of punishment because she wasn’t getting along with Paramount at the time.  Despite the assignment or perhaps because of it, Roth handles herself well and is charmingly plucky or pluckingly charming throughout.

Animal Crackers has always more or less remained in the public consciousness.  Groucho used his Animal Crackers’ entrance song “Hooray for Captain Spaulding” as his theme song on You Bet Your Life and forever afterward.  Phil Collins took a line from that same song for the title of his 1982 release Hello, I Must Be Going.  (Phil obviously misjudged the limited crossover appeal of the Genesis audience with the Marx Brothers fandom and did an unnecessary cover version of “You Can’t Hurry Love” anyway.) 

Animal Crackers was out of circulation for a while due to rights issues but was released again theatrically after a fan campaign during the mid-1970s.  The film had been edited for content back when the Breen office took scissors in the late 1930s to previously released films because apparently whatever was hunky dory in 1930 was now wildly offensive to latter-day audiences composed of overtly sensitive whiners and milquetoast weenies.  (How different today is!  Oh wait.  It isn’t.  Never mind.)  It wasn’t until the discovery of a print from the United Kingdom and the later release of the film on Blu-ray in 2016, that the entire unedited, unexpurgated, and unrelenting Animal Crackers was finally witnessed by modern and easily distracted audiences.

Explaining comedy is a fool’s errand.  I realize that now after all this typing.  (I do wish you people would’ve said something earlier!)  But I am also an unabashed fan of the Marx Brothers.  Truth be told, I’m such a fan, I would like to be abashed and then have someone take my abashed right away so I could be unabashed all over again.  Yes, I am that big of a fan. 

However, I can’t guarantee that after watching the uproarious Animal Crackers, you’ll be a fan too.  But what I can guarantee is that after watching Animal Crackers in its entirety, it will be about 97 minutes later than when you started.  And I stand by that statement.  So I say, hoping this finds you, I beg to remain, as of June 9th, cordially yours, regards.  That’s all, Jamison.  You may go, Jamison.  I may go too.

This post is my contribution to The Sixth Broadway Bound Blogathon hosted by Rebecca Denision at Taking Up Room.  Thank you Rebecca, for kindly letting me contribute my little piece of nonsense to this wonderful and informative blogathon!