Al Boasberg

Canary-voiced boy wonder Bobby Breen once more croons his way into our hearts in Make a Wish. While vacationing at a boys' camp, the rambunctious Breen befriends famed composer Basil Rathbone. Stuck for an inspiration for his latest operetta, Rathbone at last finds it when he meets Breen's gorgeous mother Marion Claire, a popular singer. Alas, her stiff-necked fiance Ralph Forbes refuses to allow her to return to the stage, whereupon Rathbone spirals into a depression -- and even worse, a profound case of writers' block. But Little-Mister-Fixit Breen manages to patch up everything just in time for Claire to debut in Rathbone's latest masterpiece. Offering much-needed comedy relief are Henry Armetta, Leon Errol and Donald Meek as a trio of parasitic would-be songwriters. Make a Wish was based on a story by Gertrude Berg, of "Molly Goldberg" fame. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The Nitwits are Johnny (Bert Wheeler) and Newt (Robert Woolsey), cigar-counter proprietors in the building owned by music publisher Lake (Hale Hamilton). Johnny spends his spare time spooning with his sweetheart, Lake's secretary Mary (Betty Grable), while Newt tinkers with his inventions, the latest of which is an electric chair which compels the occupant to tell the truth. A none too lovable man, Lake has made enemies of several people, including his shifty assistant Lurch (Arthur Aylesworth) and disgruntled songwriter Clark (Erik Rhodes); he is also on the outs with Mrs. Lake (Evelyn Brent), who caught her husband "coming on" to the reluctant Mary. Thus it is that practically anyone could be the dreaded "Black Widow," a mysterious blackmailer-murderer who's been trying to extort money from Lake. Hired at a substantial fee to protect the publisher from the Black Widow is private detective Darrell (Fred Keating), but Lake is murdered in his office all the same. Suspicion immediately falls upon Mary, the last person to see Lake alive. Johnny gallantly takes the blame for the killing to protect Mary, while Newt, believing Johnny to be guilty, does his best to protect his pal from the cops. All of this seems rather heavy going for a Wheeler & Woolsey vehicle, but be assured that The Nitwits is definitely a comedy, with the stars at their peak under the direction of George Stevens. The beauty of the film is that it sustains its momentum even after Newt's "truth chair" reveals the identity of the killer to the audience (but not to our rather dense heroes); especially hilarious is a nocturnal chase through a costume warehouse, utilizing several gags lifted from Stevens' "Boy Friends" 2-reelers of the early 1930s. Nineteen-year-old Betty Grable doesn't have too much to do, though she proves a charming subject for the film's best song, Dorothy Fields and Jimmy McHugh's "Music in My Heart". Co-written by Stuart Palmer, of "Hildegarde Withers" fame, The Nitwits was the last of Wheeler & Woolsey's truly worthwhile films. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Although some purists hold out for Duck Soup (1933), many Marx Brothers fans consider A Night at the Opera the team's best film. Immediately after the credits roll, we are introduced to Groucho Marx as penny-ante promoter Otis B. Driftwood. After a sumptuous dinner with a beautiful blonde at a fancy Milan restaurant, Driftwood tries to cadge another free meal from his wealthy patroness, Mrs. Claypool (Margaret Dumont). The dignified dowager complains that Driftwood had promised to get her into high society, but has done nothing so far. Otis B. counters by introducing Mrs. C to pompous opera entrepreneur Gottleib (Sig Rumann); all Mrs. Claypool has to do is invest several hundred thousand dollars in Gottleib's opera company, and her entree into society is in the bag. Contingent upon this plan is Driftwood's signing of Rodolfo Lassparri (Walter Woolf King), a self-important tenor. Backstage at the opera, Driftwood meets Fiorello (Chico Marx), who poses as a manager and offers to sell Driftwood the "world's greatest tenor"-not Lassparri, as Driftwood assumes, but Fiorello's pal Ricardo Baroni (Allan Jones). Instantly the two sharpsters try to draw up a contract ("The party of the first part shall hereafter be known as the party of the first part..."), which they proceed to tear up piece by piece whenever coming across a clause that displeases them (Driftwood: "That's a sanity clause"; Fiorello: "You no foola me. There ain't no Sanity Claus"). Having lost Lassparri to Gottleib, Driftwood sails back to America with Mrs. Claypool and the opera company. Gottleib arranges for Driftwood to get the tiniest, least accessible stateroom on the ship. Unpacking his trunk, Driftwood discovers that he's got to share his postage-stamp quarters with Ricardo Baroni, who has stowed away because he's in love with the opera troupe's leading lady Rosa (Kitty Carlisle). Also hiding out in Driftwood's trunk is Fiorello, who's come along because he's still Ricardo's manager, and the wacky Tomasso (Harpo Marx), Lassparri's former dresser, who has come along for the hell of it. Anxious to arrange a tete-a-tete with Mrs. Claypool in his stateroom, Otis finds out that his unwelcome guests won't leave until they're fed ("Do you have any stewed prunes? Well, give them some black coffee, that'll sober 'em up"). After ordering a huge dinner, Otis and his new friends are crowded even farther by a steady stream of intruders, including an engineer and his assistant, a cleaning lady, a manicurist, a girl looking for her Aunt Minnie, and a dozen waiters. The celebrated "stateroom scene" comes to a rollicking conclusion when Mrs. Claypool has the misfortune of opening the door. On the last night of the voyage, Fiorello, Tomasso and Ricardo sneak out of their stateroom to enjoy an impromptu ethnic festival in steerage. Ricardo sings, Fiorello "shoots the keys" on the piano, and Tomasso plays the film's theme song Alone on the harp. The stowaways are caught and thrown in the brig, but with Driftwood's help they escape. To avoid recapture, the stowaways don heavy beards and pose as three famed Russian aviators. After making a shambles of a public reception, the three reprobates hide out in Driftwood's New York apartment, where everyone conspires to drive an investigating detective (Robert Emmet O'Connor) crazy. Driftwood is fired from the opera company for associating with the stowaways, while Rosa is dismissed for refusing Lassparri's affections. In order to restore Rosa's job and put the deserving Ricardo in Lassparri's place during the opening performance of La Traviata, Driftwood, Fiorello and Tomasso concoct a scheme that will reduce the opera to comic chaos. The actual night at the opera in A Night at the Opera must be seen to be believed, but the spirit of the scene can be summed up by Gottleib's anguished cry "A battleship in Il Trovatore!" Opera was the Marx Brothers' first film for MGM, and they dearly coveted a hit after the disappointing box-office showing of their final Paramount films. With the blessing of MGM production chief Irving Thalberg, the Marxes went on the road with their brilliant writing staff (including George S. Kaufman, Morrie Ryskind and Al Boasberg) to test their comedy material before live audiences. As a result of this careful preplanning, Night at the Opera was a smash-hit gigglefest, grossing over $3 million and putting the Marxes back on top in the hearts and minds of filmgoers everywhere. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Harry Beaumont, a director-composer most closely associated with MGM's musical product, does a nice job handling the tongue-in-cheek melodramatics of Murder in the Private Car. Charlie Ruggles goes through his standard drunken-detective act as amateur gumshoe Scott, who stumbles onto a dead body when he wanders into the wrong train car. Despite the fact that the private car can only be locked from the inside, several more murders occur within its walls. This means plenty of trouble for heroine Ruth (Mary Carlisle), who'd rented the car for a cross-country journey of vital importance. Before this particular odyssey is over and the murderer is revealed, the private car, with Ruth trapped inside, is separated from the rest of the train and sent hurtling backward down the tracks, loaded with dynamite! Perhaps Harry Beaumont missed his calling: judging by Murder in the Private Car, he should have specialized in serials. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The genesis of MGM's Freaks was a magazine piece by Ted Robbins titled Spurs. The story involved a terrible revenge enacted by a mean-spirited circus midget upon his normal-sized wife. In adapting Spurs for the screen, writers Willis Goldbeck, Leon Gordon, Edgar Allan Wolf, and Al Boasberg retained the circus setting and the little man-big woman wedding, all the while de-vilifying the midget and transforming the woman into the true "heavy" of the piece. German "little person" Harry Earles plays Hans, who falls in love with long-legged trapeze artist Cleopatra (Olga Baclanova). Discovering that Hans is heir to a fortune, Cleopatra inveigles him into a marriage, all the while planning to bump off her new husband and run away with brutish strongman Hercules (Henry Victor). What she doesn't reckon with is the code of honor among circus freaks: "offend one, offend them all." What set this film apart from director Tod Browning's earlier efforts was the fact that genuine circus and carnival sideshow performers were cast as the freaks: Harry Earles and his equally diminutive sister Daisy, Siamese twins Violet and Daisy Hilton, legless Johnny Eck, armless-legless Randian (who rolls cigarettes with his teeth), androgynous Josephine-Joseph, "pinheads" Schlitzie, Elvira, Jennie Lee Snow, and so on. Upon its initial release, Freaks was greeted with such revulsion from movie-house audiences that MGM spent the next 30 years distancing themselves as far from the project as possible. For many years available only in a truncated reissue version titled Nature's Mistakes, Freaks was eventually restored to its original release print. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Cole Porter's Broadway musical 50 Million Frenchmen was brought to the screen in 1931 with one minor alteration -- all of the music was removed! Set in Paris, the story concerns the exploits of wealthy Jack Forbes (William Gaxton), who bets his friend Michael Cummings (John Halliday) that he can woo and win Looloo Carroll (Claudia Dell) without using any of his money or connections. Cummings hires Simon and Peter (Ole Olsen and Chic Johnson), a pair of erstwhile detectives, to make sure that Forbes doesn't win his bet. Instead, Simon and Peter befriend our hero and decide to help him out. Olsen & Johnson have all the best material, notably an early double-entendre encounter with randy American tourist Helen Broderick and a scene in which Olsen impersonates mind-reading fakir Bela Lugosi (who loses his clothes in the process!) The finale is right out of Harold Lloyd, with the comedians being chased by every law officer in Gay Paree. Evidently, the Cole Porter songs had been filmed for 50 Million Frenchmen, but were cut from the final print just before release: William Gaxton keeps building up to singing You Do Something for Me but never quite gets there (Warner Bros. later utilized the Porter score in Paree! Paree!, a 2-reel remake of Frenchmen starring Bob Hope). Originally released in Technicolor, 50 Million Frenchmen is presently available only in black and white. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The vaudeville and Broadway "sister act" of Vivien and Rosetta Duncan, best known for their characterizations of Eva and Topsy in Uncle Tom's Cabin, star in the creaky backstage musical melodrama It's a Great Life. The ladies are cast as travelling entertainers Babe and Casey Hogan, who work their way up the ladder from the small time to the Palace. The act breaks up when swell-headed Jimmy Dean (Lawrence Gray) marries Babe, but Casey rushes back to her sister's side when the latter is stricken by a serious illness. As she coaxes Babe back to health, Casey describes the "big act" she plans to stage, whereupon the film segues into an elaborate Technicolor sequence which has about as much to do with the rest of the film as the invasion of the Huns. Children of the theatre, Vivien and Rosetta Duncan were unable to scale down their performances for the more intimate demands of the camera, which is why they lost the lead roles in Broadway Melody (1929) to Bessie Love and Anita Page. But having signed the Duncans to a one-picture contract, MGM had to put them in something -- hence the existence of It's a Great Life. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Buster Keaton's second starring talkie finds him cast as wealthy, pampered Elmer, who heads down to the local employment office to hire a new chauffeur. Elmer isn't aware that the office has been converted into a World War I recruiting center, and before he knows it, he's in an ill-fitting uniform, enduring the verbal cannonades of sergeant Ed Brophy. The film's plot is based in part on Keaton's own wartime experiences, notably the bit in which he marches the wrong way and is trammeled by his fellow soldiers. Though Buster Keaton considered Doughboys the best of his MGM talkies, the film seems today to be one of his worst efforts, helped not at all by the excruciating performance of Ed Brophy. The best sequence is the camp show, with Buster cavorting in drag and performing a ukulele duet with Cliff Edwards. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

With the arrival of talkies, every major studio hopped on the musical bandwagon by turning out lavish "revues," spotlighting their top stars performing specialty numbers. MGM's entry in this all-star genre was Hollywood Revue of 1929, which, though a box-office smash and a "Best Picture" Oscar nominee, is an absolutely deadly experience when seen today. Even so, it coasts by on its curiosity value, as several major MGM luminaries display their all-talking, all-singing, all-dancing talents (or lack of same). The film is hosted by Conrad Nagel and Jack Benny, the latter still purveying the "wise-guy" personality he used on screen before adopting his more likable radio characterization. Some of the individual acts are modestly entertaining: Joan Crawford, the top of her head cut off due to faulty camerawork, is quite appealing in a jazz number; Laurel and Hardy and Buster Keaton provide genuine laughs, the former in a makeshift magic act and the latter performing a burlesque ballet; Bessie Love and Marion Davies are cute and cuddly in their respective musical numbers, while Marie Dressler is outrageously funny in her brace of appearances; and, best of all, Cliff Edwards solemnly introduces MGM's "signature" tune Singin' in the Rain, which serves as a leitmotif throughout the picture. Other "highlights" are more impressive for their concept than their actual execution: Gus Edwards' "Lon Chaney Will Get You if You Don't Find Out" would have been more interesting had the real Lon Chaney Sr. made an appearance (something he reportedly refused to do), while John Gilbert and Norma Shearer's "slang" version of the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet (a sequence filmed in Technicolor) produces winces rather than laughs. At that, these scenes are easier to digest than the wretched sentimental ballad Your Mother and Mine, performed ad nauseum by the otherwise reliable Charles King, and the overproduced and under-rehearsed Orange Blossom finale (also in color). Long available only in its 82-minute TV release version, Hollywood Revue of 1929 was restored to nearly its original 125-minute length in the 1970s; the film is worth seeing once for historical purposes, but is hardly a "keeper," even for the most diligent of video collectors. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Director Frank Capra's first feature for Columbia Pictures, the silent That Certain Thing stars Viola Dana and Ralph Graves. Dana plays a poor girl who falls in love with wealthy Graves, the son of a millionaire restaurateur. When Graves declares that he has no intention of going into the family business, his father cuts him off without a dime. With nary a dime between them, Graves and Dana hit upon a moneymaking plan: they'll manufacture box lunches in Dana's kitchen, then sell them to construction workers from the back of her Model T. The box-lunch enterprise blossoms into a big business, driving dad's chain of restaurants into bankruptcy. All is forgiven when Father becomes Graves' junior partner. Lensed for less than $20,000 (the "prop" box lunches saved catering costs!), That Certain Thing was a hit, launching a long and rewarding association between Capra and Columbia. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Prizefighter Danny Martin (Danny O'Shea) wants to marry pretty Charlotte Hamilton (Mary Brian), but her wealthy father John (John Steppling) refuses to consider such a match. Things begin to go badly for Danny in the boxing ring, forcing him to hang up his gloves and assume the management of a health farm. When the out-of-shape John Hamilton shows up at the farm for a bit of therapeutic exercise, Charlotte arranges for her father to sign an agreement to keep up his therapy for a period of 60 days. While Hamilton huffs and puffs away in the gymnasium, Charlotte and Danny run off to get married. By the time Hamilton finds out he's been hoodwinked, he's in such excellent health that he immediately gives the marriage his unqualified blessing. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Battling Butler has to be the strangest of Buster Keaton's silent features. Based on the musical comedy of the same name, the film casts Keaton as wimpy millionaire Alfred Butler, who goes on a vacation in the mountains in the company of his faithful valet (Snitz Edwards). While communing with nature, Alfred falls in love with a beautiful young girl (Sally O'Neil), who barely acknowledges his existence. Without his master's knowledge, the valet tries to smooth the path of romance by telling the girl that Alfred is, in reality, boxing champion Battling Butler (Francis McDonald). The real champ, a mean-spirited sort, gets wind of this deception and decides to allow Alfred to continue the charade, fully intending to mop the floor with the puny millionaire in the boxing ring. But on the night of the big fight, Alfred suddenly gets tired of being pushed around and turns into a savage opponent, leaving the bullying Butler positively groggy. At this point our hero discovers that the girl would have loved him whether he was Battling Butler or not, and all ends well. Played as traditional Keaton comedy for most of its running time, Battling Butler goes dramatic with a vengeance in the climactic fight scene, with Keaton really giving his ring opponent a going over. The final scene is all the more powerful because it is so completely unexpected; if it surprises today's audiences, one can only imagine the effect it had on Buster Keaton's fans way back in 1926. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide