Duke York Movies

Number ten in MGM's heart-warming (and immensely profitable) "Andy Hardy" series was the 1941 entry Life Begins for Andy Hardy. Upon his graduation from high school, Andy (Mickey Rooney) decides to seek his fortune in New York City without benefit of a college education, much to the consternation of his father Judge Hardy (Lewis Stone). Moving to the Big Apple, Andy lands a job in a stockbroker's office, where he falls in love (at least he thinks it's love) with fickle telephone operator Jennitt Hicks (Patricia Dane). Alas, Andy is unable to cope with life in the fast lane, but it takes the combined efforts of his father and his hometown sweetie Betsy Booth (Judy Garland) to convince him of this fact. For reasons that defy logic, each of Judy Garland's four songs in Life Begins for Andy Hardy were cut from the final release print. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Lost in a Harem is arguably the best of Abbott & Costello's trio of MGM films; it's certainly the silliest, with any number of nonsensical plot twists and sidesplitting gags. This time, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello play Pete and Harvey, two American magicians stranded in a mythical Arabian Nights kingdom with songstress Hazel Moon (Marilyn Maxwell). Our heroes and heroine become involved with the trials and tribulations of Prince Ramo (John Conte), who hopes to rightfully reclaim his throne from his evil usurping uncle Nimativ (Douglas Dumbrille). Alas, the villain is armed with a pair of hypnotic rings with which he forces everyone to do his bidding: his most anti-social act is to kidnap and hypnotize the entire Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra! Pete, Harvey, Ramo and Hazel risk death at every turn to thwart Nimativ, encountering a giant guard (Lock Martin, later to play the robot Gort in The Day the Earth Stood Still), a gibbering lunatic (Murray Leonard) and a bevy of harem beauties along the way. The film's sets and costumes, as well as the more elaborate musical numbers, are "borrowed" from the recently completed MGM superproduction Kismet. While the plot is for the birds, Lost in a Harem is saved by the fast-and-furious antics of Abbott and Costello. And as a bonus, this is the film in which Bud and Lou, accompanied by Murray Leonard, perform those deathless burlesque classics "Slowly I Turned" and "Mike's Place." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this drama, a test pilot plies his trade on a prototype medical plane. Unfortunately, when the craft is stolen, he becomes the prime suspect and is grounded. Fortunately, a female flying ace convinces her brother to employ him. Later it is revealed that the brother leads a gang of plane thieves. They take the stolen birds, including the medical plane, and sell them to other countries. To get the crook to confess, the test pilot kidnaps the thief's beloved sister. The ploy works and the purloined plane is returned, the test pilot resumes his old job, and he and the girl fall in love. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

In this drama, a Boy Scout leader hosts a local gossip show. Trouble ensues when he predicts a politician's murder just before it occurs. He is arrested by the DA, but before getting to jail, he is abducted by irate gangsters--the real killers. Fortunately, his loyal Scout troop rallies to his rescue. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

This wildly uneven "Dead End Kids/Little Tough Guys" entry focuses on young Tom Barker (Billy Halop), whose older brother Eddie ended up in the electric chair. Idolizing Eddie's memory, Tom and his buddies are also fascinated with Eddie's former partner, gangster Monk Bangor (Paul Fix). Police officer Frank Conroy (Dick Foran) tries to steer the kids away from a life of crime by setting up a neighborhood recreational center, but while he's able to interest Pig (Huntz Hall), Ape (Bernard Punsley) and String (Gabe Dell) in the project, Tom remains determined to follow in his brother's footsteps-even more so when he discovers that Sgt. Conroy was responsible for Eddie's arrest. Eventually, Tom realizes that his true enemy is the double-crossing Monk Bangor, prompting an instantaneous reformation. Versatile juvenile performer Darryl Hickman adds a bit of class to the proceedings as a pugnacious little Dead-Ender named Butch. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A federal agent and a petty Naval officer are both investigating the theft of top-secret defense plans. Since neither one is aware that the other is working on the case, each considers the other to be the prime suspect. They end up getting romantic and catching the real spies. ~ Steve Huey, Rovi

W.C. Fields heads to Esoteric studios to pitch a story idea to producer Franklin Pangborn. The producer wants to make a conventional romantic musical starring Fields' niece, teen-aged soprano Gloria Jean, but "The Great Man" has other ideas. As Pangborn sits in dumbfounded silence, Fields unravels an incoherent farrago which begins with him travelling to a Russian colony in Mexico--by way of an airliner with an open observation platform. Fields dives from the plane when his precious flask of gin falls overboard; he lands safely at the mountaintop mansion of the formidable Mrs. Hemoglobin (Margaret Dumont). Playing a kissing game with Hemoglobin's beauteous daughter (Susan Miller), who has never seen a man before, Fields decides to make a quick exit when Mama wants to get in on the game too. Reunited with Gloria Jean in the Russian colony, Fields learns that Mrs. Hemoglobin is worth millions, so he climbs back up the mountain, ignoring such obstacles as a displaced African gorilla. Disposing of his rival Leon Errol, Fields is about to wed Mrs. Hemoglobin, but is talked out of it at the last moment by Gloria Jean. At this point in the narrative, producer Pangborn can stand no more. He tells Fields to take his nonsensical screenplay and vacate the premises. After a brief episode at a soda fountain ("This scene was supposed to be in a saloon, but the censors made us cut it out"), Fields drives off to new adventures with his niece--but not before a zany slapstick car-chase finale, prompted by Fields' mistaken belief that he's rushing a corpulent middle-aged lady to the maternity hospital. W. C. Fields' original screenplay for Never Give a Sucker an Even Break (written under the fanciful pseudonym of Otis Criblecoblis) made a lot more sense than what ended up on screen, but Fields' extended absences from the studio, coupled with Universal's desire to reshape the film into a vehicle for their new star Gloria Jean, necessitated a complete restructuring of the plot. While hardly Fields' best or most representative film, Sucker is an excellent example of the sort of nonsensical "nut" humor in vogue in 1941 thanks to Olsen and Johnson's Hellzapoppin'. And, occasionally, the film stands still long enough to allow W. C. Fields to mutter a priceless aside or toss off a perfectly timed double-take. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Radio baritone Joe Morrison was being groomed for stardom by Paramount when he was top-billed in One Hour Late. Morrison is cast as shipping clerk Eddie Blake, whose girlfriend Betty Dunn (Helen Twelvetrees) is secretary to big boss Stephen Barclay (Conrad Nagel). A trusting soul, Betty sees nothing wrong in accepting Barclay's invitation to visit his home for the weekend. But Eddie suspects the worst and tags along to make sure that Betty's virtue remains intact. As it happens, Eddie's fears are groundless -- as are those of Barclay's wife Ellen (Gail Patrick), who was poised to walk out on her husband at the first sign of extramarital hanky-panky. The script contrives to have a radio station located in the building where Eddie works, permitting Joe Morrison to croon a medley of his hit "The Last Roundup." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Harold Lloyd plays a professor of Egyptology, frightened by the notion that he has fallen under an ancient Egyptian curse. Lloyd has the opportunity to join an archeological expedition to search for a missing tablet that will determine his fate, but he has to travel from Los Angeles to New York before the party sails to Egypt. Alas, Lloyd is also required to appear in court to answer charges of "indecent exposure" (it's a long story). The rest of the film is a frantic chase with the authorities pursuing the fugitive professor across the country, highlighted by a daredevil sequence atop a moving train. Most of the individual gags are funny, but Professor Beware is several notches below the standard set by Harold Lloyd's silent films. The lukewarm boxoffice response to this film would convince Lloyd that he should retire from performing--which he did, returning to the screen only for 1947's Sins of Harold Diddlebock. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This harmless Universal musical comedy is worth having as one of the few filmed records of legendary Broadway comedian Jimmy Savo (his previous starrer, Once in a Blue Moon, is among the rarest of collector's item). The story proper is carried by Robert Wilcox and Nan Grey, cast as a pair of mismatched lovers who share a common interest in horse racing. Hero and heroine get mixed up in a shady get-rich-quick scheme, which threatens to turns disastrous but which ends up solving everyone's problems. Harry Davenport adds a touch of gentle pathos as a blind horseplayer. Jimmy Savo's pantomime turns and musical numbers were not up to his usual standard (at least that's what the critics said), but they play rather well when seen today, even though Savo's patented streak of healthy vulgarity had to be soft-pedalled for the screen. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Road to Rio was the first of three "Road" pictures jointly produced by stars Bing Crosby and Bob Hope. On the run from the law again, musicians Bob and Bing stow away on an ocean liner. They try to come to the rescue of heiress Dorothy Lamour, who is doomed to an arranged marriage to caddish George Meeker. All gratitude and effusions for their assistance, Dorothy surprises Bob and Bing on their next meeting by slapping them in their faces and declaring "I hate you! I loathe you! I despise you!" The explanation? Dorothy is being hypnotized by her scheming aunt Gale Sondergaard, who has set up the marriage for mysterious mercenary reasons of her own. When Dorothy is "herself" again, Bob and Bing smuggle her off the ship and into their Rio de Janeiro hotel room. The boys plan to save Dorothy from her unwanted marriage by passing her off as a nightclub singer, and themselves as band leaders. Trouble is, they have no band. Enter the Wiere Brothers, three Rio street entertainers. Bob and Bing hire the threesome on the spot, unmindful that they have booked themselves into Nestor Paiva's nightclub on the promise that they're delivering an American band. Since the Wieres speak only Portuguese, Bing teaches each brother an American phrase by rote: "You're in the groove, Jackson", "You're Telling Me," and "This is Murder." Naturally, it isn't long before the boys' ruse is discovered, and this coupled with the newly hypnotized Lamour's threats to have Bob and Bing arrested, leaves our heroes broke and stranded once more. Still, they pose a menace to Sondergaard, thus she contrives a method of disposing of them. Hypnotizing them both, Sondergaard orders Bob and Bing to kill each other. They snap out of the spell just in time, but still there's the problem of rescuing Dorothy. And now there's a new angle: mysterious stranger Frank Puglia informs the boys that the only way to stop the wedding is to retrieve (pause; a furtive glance left; a furtive glance right) "The Papers." Said papers are in the possession of Sondergaard, obliging Bob and Bing to show up at the pre-nuptial festival in disguise (with Bob in drag). Managing to hypnotize Sondergaard's henchmen Frank Faylen and Joseph Vitale, Bob and Bing uncover the precious Papers, and Dorothy is saved. But how can those papers stop a wedding? We won't give away the surprise, nor will we tell you whether Dorothy ends up with Bob or Bing, nor even what the heck Jerry Colonna is doing in the picture leading a cavalry charge. Not the best of the "Road" pictures, Road to Rio is nonetheless one of the most memorable--and quotable (how many of your high school pals used to confound the teacher by declaring "You're in the groove, Jackson"?) ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Easily the best of Eddie Cantor's gargantuan musical comedies for producer Sam Goldwyn, Roman Scandals begins in the middle-America community of West Rome, where our hero Eddie (Cantor) is employed as a delivery boy. A self-styled authority of Ancient Roman history, Cantor bemoans the fact that the local shanty community is about to be wiped out by scheming politicians, certain that such an outrage could never have happened during Rome's Golden Days. After a blow on the head, Cantor wakes up in Imperial Rome, where he is sold on the slave auction block to good-natured tribune Josephus (David Manners). Cantor soon discovers that the evil emperor Valerius (Edward Arnold) is every bit a crook and grafter as the politicians in West Rome, and he intends to do something about it. He gets a job as food taster for Valerius -- a none-too-secure position, inasmuch as the emperor's wife Agrippa (Veree Teasdale) is constantly trying to poison her husband -- and does his best to smooth the path of romance for Josephus and recently captured princess Sylvia (Gloria Stuart). Cantor's well-intentioned interference earns him a session in the torture chamber, but he escapes and commandeers a chariot, setting the stage for a spectacular slapstick climax. On the verge of recapture, Cantor wakes to find himself in West Rome U.S.A. again, where he quickly foils the modern-day despots and brings about a happy ending for all his friends.

Co-written by George S. Kaufman, Robert E. Sherwood, George Oppenheimer and Arthur Sheekman (the soon-to-be husband of leading lady Gloria Stuart), Roman Scandals manages to get off a few clever satirical licks, but essentially it's a "lappy" lowbrow vehicle for Eddie Cantor, and in this it succeeds immensely. The Busby Berkeley-staged musical numbers, written by Harry Warren, Al Dubin and L. Wolfe Gilbert, must be seen to be believed: In "No More Love", Ruth Etting, playing the Emperor's cast-off mistress Olga, sings a plaintive torch song as dozens of enslaved Goldwyn Girls (including Lucille Ball and Barbara Pepper), wearing nothing but long, blonde wigs, are chained to a rotating pedestal; and in "Keep Young and Beautiful", these same maidens gleefully cavort around a Roman bathhouse in the near-altogether while Cantor, in blackface, hops about, rolls his eyes and claps his hands -- just before a jet of steam "shrinks" him, at which point he metamorphoses into midget Billy Barty! The quintessence of Depression-era escapism, Roman Scandals is must-see entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi