Films
in Focus
By Ed Garea
The
Cocoanuts (Paramount, 1929) – Directors: Robert Florey
& Joseph Santley. Writers: George S. Kaufman (book), and Morrie
Ryskind (adaptation). Stars: Groucho Marx, Harpo Marx, Chico Marx,
Zeppo Marx, Margaret Dumont, Kay Francis, Oscar Shaw, Mary Eaton,
Cyril Ring, Basil Ruysdael, Gamby-Hale Ballet Girls, & Allan K.
Foster Girls. B&W, 96 minutes.
Until
such time, if ever, that their legendary lost film, Humor
Risk (1921) is discovered, The Cocoanuts will
stand at the Marx Brothers’ first film.
The
Brothers had been established on Broadway since 1924 and their first
stage hit was I’ll Say She Is. It was a hodgepodge of
old Marx Brothers vaudeville routines and musical numbers held
together by the story of a rich girl looking for excitement as
presented by a succession of new suitors. The climax of the show was
a long sketch with Groucho as Napoleon, which the Brothers regarded
as the funniest thing they ever did and parts of which would appear
in later films.
The
show ran from May 19, 1924, at the Casino Theatre in New York City
and closed on February 7, 1925, after 313 performances. The Marxs
next went on later that year to star in The Cocoanuts,
which opened on Broadway at the Lyric Theatre on December 8, 1925,
and closed on August 7, 1926, after 276 performances, and then it
went on tour. It came back to Broadway for a limited revival at the
Century Theatre from May 16 to May 28, 1927, after which the Brothers
moved on to Animal Crackers.
Once
Hollywood determined that sound was here to stay, the studios
descended upon Broadway like a swarm of locusts, looking for talent,
as many stars of the silent screen could not make the transition to
sound. Given their Broadway success, the Marxs were snapped up by
Paramount, which had also bought the film rights to both The
Cocoanuts and Animal Crackers. (I’ll Say
She Is was considered unfilmable.)
As
part of their Paramount deal, The Cocoanuts was
filmed at the Paramount studio in Astoria Studios in Queens, while
the Brothers performed Animal Crackers in the
evening. Wednesdays were taken off from filming for matinees. The
film was one of the first sound movies to be shot at Paramount’s
Astoria Studios. (The studio had recently been refurbished to
accommodate sound.) Monta Bell was chosen as producer.
Bell
decided to split the role of director between Robert Florey, who
would handle the main duties, and Joseph Santley, who would handle
the musical numbers. Apparently, Florey was hired because of his
success in keeping budgets within limits and the studio was afraid
that, with the Marxs’ reputation, that the film was a sure bet to
go over budget. To handle the camera work, cinematographer George
Folsey was assigned to the project.
Of
the original Broadway cast, only Margaret Dumont (Mrs. Potter) and
Basil Ruysdael (Detective Hennessey) were cast in the film version in
addition to the Marxs. Stage veteran Mary Eaton was brought in to
play Polly Potter, Oscar Shaw was given the role of lead Robert
Adams, Cyril Ring was brought on as villain Harvey Yates, and
neophyte Kay Francis appeared in her first movie as Penelope.
Finally, Morrie Ryskind was brought in to adapt the play to the
screen. He made several changes:
Groucho’s
character, named Henry Schlemmer in the
play, is renamed as Mr. Hammer. Chico goes from “Willie the Wop”
in the play to “Signor Pastrami,” referred to by that name by
Groucho and Dumont, and Harpo goes from “Silent Sam” to “Silent
Red.” The only reference to Harpo’s character’s name comes from
a wanted poster. Only Zeppo’s character keeps his name: Jamison.
The
play originally opened with musical numbers, followed by a sequence
of dialogues between Eddie the Bellhop (Georgie Hale in the play),
Jamison, Mrs. Potter, Harvey Yates, and Polly to establish their
characters. Instead, the film opens with a brief musical interlude
followed by the entrance of Mr. Hammer.
Eddie’s
role was cut completely, and Sylvan Lee appears, uncredited, as “Bell
Captain.” Penelope’s role is more sharply refined to bring out
her shadier aspects, and the tune “When My Dreams Come True”
replaced the frequently reprised “A Little Bungalow.”
Most
importantly, Ryskind added the “Why-a-duck” routine, which would
go on to become one of the Marxs’ most famous and quoted routines.
The
play, as originally constructed by George S. Kaufman, was a satire of
the Florida land boom of the 1920s. It’s set in the Hotel de
Cocoanut, a resort hotel, run by Mr. Hammer (Groucho), assisted by
Jamison (Zeppo), who is more hindrance than help. Harpo and Chico are
two con men without funds looking to make their fortunes. The only
paying guest at the hotel is Mrs. Potter (Dumont), a wealthy widow
who is staying along with daughter Polly (Eaton). Polly is in love
with struggling young architect Bob Adams (Shaw), who works as a
clerk at the hotel, but in his spare time has drawn up plans for the
development of the entire area as Cocoanut Manor. Polly and Bob wish
to marry, but Mrs. Potter is convinced that Harvey Yates (Ring) is of
higher social standing and therefore would make for a better husband.
What Mrs. Potter does not know is that Yates is a con man planning to
steal her diamond necklace with the help of partner-in-crime
Penelope. The criminals pull off the heist and frame Bob, who is
tossed in jail. Mrs. Potter announces Polly’s engagement to Yates.
Meanwhile, Bob is freed by Chico and Harpo while Polly tricks Yates
during the engagement party into revealing the truth behind the
theft. Yates and Penelope are arrested and the engagement party goes
on – only with the substitution of Bob as the prospective groom.
So
much for the plot – it was always intended just as the framework in
which the Marxs perform their patented routines. Marx Brothers legend
has George Kaufman standing in the back of the theater while the play
was going on. He was talking with a guest when he suddenly held up
his hand. “Excuse me,” he told the bewildered guest, “but I
think I just heard one of the original lines.”
Florey
came to America in the early ‘20s as a correspondent for a French
film magazine and began his career in film as a gag writer and soon
after worked as director of foreign publicity for Douglas Fairbanks,
Mary Pickford, and Rudolph Valentino. Working with the Marx Brothers
came as a shock to his system. Shooting a stage play was not his idea
of a good time to begin with, and working with four stars who kept
changing the dialogue to suit themselves left him dazed and confused.
Sound was new to Florey; The
Cocoanuts was his second sound
film. His request to shoot some of the film in Florida was nixed.
Rehearsals were also useless. “What was there to rehearse with the
Marx Brothers?” asked Florey. “They had performed the show a
thousand times … They did what they did and that was that. Aside
from directing traffic, which turned out to be my main function, I
photographed it to the best of my ability.” Because he ceded
control to his four stars, Florey didn’t bother prepping the
supporting cast either, which shows in their confused performances,
outside of Dumont and Ruysdael, who worked in the
Broadway productions. Florey was more interested in experimenting
with the music and dance scenes, even though Santley was brought in
as choreographer. To his credit, Florey created some overhead shots
that seem to be progenitors of Busby Berkeley’s famous numbers
later for Warner Brothers and MGM. Cameraman Folsey said, “Florey
had an eye. He knew it was interesting to shoot down on a bunch of
chorus girls unfolding like flowers – we hadn’t done that
before.”
A
problem Florey could do nothing about was sound recording. The
transition to sound had just begun and the microphones of the time
were acutely sensitive. So much so, in fact, that the camera had to
be enclosed in large soundproof booths with a glass panel in front so
the microphones wouldn’t pick up the noise. As a result, the camera
no longer moved, but remained static. Marks on the floor for the
actors to hit were of prime importance to keep them in frame. As
a result, the camera locks down on each scene as the Marxs run on and
off, as if from the wings of a theater.
One
of the things that infuriated cinematographer Folsey was the constant
failure of the Brothers Marx to hit their spots, as they had a habit
of wandering around, being used to the freedom of the stage. Another
thing that bothered Folsey was the stifling heat in the booth that
required him to limit filming to short periods.
The
microphone was so sensitive that even the rustling and crinkling of
paper was enough to cause a major distraction. During the famous
“Why-a-duck” routine 27 takes were ruined by the crinkling of the
blueprints Groucho uses to explain the layout to Chico until Florey
finally got the idea of soaking them in water. The 28th take,
using the soaked blueprints, came off smoothly. In fact, the
blueprints are so limp and shiny that we can see they are dripping
with water.
Even
the musical numbers had to be recorded
live on the soundstage as they were shot (rather than pre-recorded)
as Irving Berlin conducted an off-camera orchestra. As a result, the
frequent interludes for the numbers became intrusive, breaking up the
flow of the film. In the auction scene, Groucho is reduced to
something of an emcee as he introduces Polly Potter singing
“Monkey-Doodle-Doo.” The song pushed most in the film is one
Berlin wrote especially for it, the dreadful “When My Dreams Come
True,” (replacing “A Little Bungalow” from the play) which is
sung at various times by Bob and Polly and even played by Harpo both
on the clarinet and harp. None of the tunes in the film could be
considered memorable nor was any of the music in the Broadway
production. It was said that Kaufman didn’t care for music, as he
didn’t write it. Marxian legend has it that, when the show was
being prepared for Broadway, Kaufman kept throwing out Berlin‘s
tunes, one of which was – supposedly – “Always.”
Face
it, though, who pays attention to the music in a Marx Brothers film,
except if played by Harpo or Chico? The perfect composers for the
Brothers turned out to be Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby in their later
Paramount films, which were nonsense ditties.
The
performances in The Cocoanuts were a decidedly mixed
bag. The Marxs were fine, though they do seem a might uncomfortable
at first (except Harpo, who was not limited by having to recite
dialogue) frequently stumbling and hesitating in delivering their
lines. For performers used to live audiences for over 20 years,
standing still on a soundstage with only an audience of studio hands
was a bit unnerving. They were used to the instantaneous response of
a crowd to let them know if the material was working. But take away
Groucho, Chico, Harpo, and Zeppo, and The Cocoanuts is
unwatchable.
Aside
from Dumont and Ruysdael, who were in the original play, none of the
supporting cast, save for Francis, turns in a decent performance. As
the romantic leads, Shaw and Eaton are totally forgettable. Shaw has
no screen presence, and Eaton, aside from a few song and dance
numbers, is practically invisible. Shaw returned to Broadway where he
worked until his retirement in 1941. Aside from a silent comedy
opposite Marion Davies after The Cocoanuts, Shaw didn’t
appear in another film until 1940 when he appeared in a supporting
role for Bing Crosby in Rhythm on the River.
Mary
Eaton fared no better. Known as one of ‘The Seven Little Eatons’
of Broadway and Ziegfield fame, Paramount starred Mary in a follow-up
production with Eddie Cantor and Helen Morgan called Glorifying
the American Girl. It’s dreadful performance at the box office
ended Mary’s film career and she returned to the stage. Her career
ended in the ‘30s due to her alcoholism and she died in 1948 from
severe cirrhosis of the liver.
As
the main villain, Cyril Ring is as flat as last night’s beer. The
reviews he received for his performance were so dreadful as to doom
his career as an actor. Ring had 398 screen credits after appearing
in The Cocoanuts, with about 99% of them being unbilled.
He had become a professional extra. The only one of those especially
hired for the film to survive was Kay Francis. It was her first film
and she displayed enough presence to be brought back by Paramount.
She would later go on to be Warner Brothers’ highest-paid actress
in the ‘30s, not bad for someone who sounded as though she took
speech lessons from Elmer Fudd.
Part
of this could be attributed to the spontaneous ad-libbing of the
Marxs, which makes it difficult to adjust, but blame must also be
laid at the feet of director Florey, who did a horrible job of
preparing his troops. When the film is not coming to a halt in order
for someone to sing “When My Dreams Come True,” it’s stopping
to explain the plot over and over. The audience is constantly
reminded about the stolen necklace, the mysterious map, and Detective
Hennessy snooping around for no apparent reason. Is it any wonder we
can’t wait for the next bit from Groucho, Chico and Harpo?
And
what of the Brothers themselves? The Cocoanuts is
interesting in that it’s their first film and we get to see their
film characters developing. We open with Groucho giving Zeppo
instructions and Zeppo ignoring them. Groucho bemoans the lack of
paying guests, but whenever one phones to make a reservation he puts
them off with a wisecrack. The bellhops inform Groucho they want to
be paid. Groucho responds by confusing them with a speech culminating
in his asking them if all they want to do is to be wage slaves. When
they reply “no,” he asks what is it that makes one a wage slave.
When they can’t answer, Groucho tells them that it’s wages and
not to worry, for they won’t get any from him. Not only does this
answer satisfy them, they react by cheering. This is an easy crowd.
Groucho
is rather stiff and hesitant so far, without the quick patter and
comebacks we’re used to, but as soon as Chico and Harpo arrive
things pick up. Groucho and Zeppo go to welcome them with hands
outstretched and all four end up chasing each other in a circle,
stepping over chairs and the lobby sofa as they go. A bellhop tries
to take Harpo’s suitcase to his room. Harpo resists and the
suitcase pops open. “Hey,” says Groucho, “You know that
suitcase is empty.” “That’s all
right,” replies Chico. “We fill it up before we leave.” Harpo
amuses himself by pulling the buttons off the bellboy’s uniform and
eating them. Later he will eat a telephone and drink from an inkwell.
Florey, in one of his few contributions to the film, devised the gags
with Harpo: the phone (as well as the buttons) is chocolate and the
“ink” is flat cola. Groucho and Chico engage in their first
on-screen banter: “Now, would you like a suite on the third floor?”
“I’ll take a Polack in the basement.”
Groucho
later pursues Mrs. Potter after learning she’s not only a widow,
but also filthy rich. He tries to seduce her in his inimitable way,
proposing marriage, but she rejects his every advance. No wonder,
with lines like “Your eyes, they shine like the pants of a blue
serge suit.” “What?” “I’m sorry,” Groucho replies. “That
isn’t a reflection on you, it’s a reflection on the pants.”
When she tells him later that, “You wouldn’t love me if I was
poor,” his response is, “I might, but I’d keep my mouth shut.”
Meanwhile,
Penelope and Yates are working out plans to steal Mrs. Potter’s
necklace, with Penelope planning to fix the blame on Chico and Harpo.
She invites Chico to her room and later does the same with Harpo. The
scene of her trying to vamp Harpo is precious. She drops her
handkerchief. Harpo picks it up and pockets it. When she asks him if
he’s seen it he broadly and slowly shakes his head “no.” She
tells him if he finds to bring it to her room and asks if he knows
where her room is. His reaction is to slowly, and with a lascivious
look on his face, nods his head “yes.”
Yates
comes to Penelope’s room and slips her Mrs. Potter’s keys. Now
comes a scene reminiscent of the bedroom scene in I’ll Say She
Is. As Penelope opens the door to Mrs. Potter’s adjoining room,
Groucho opens the front door, looking for Mrs. Potter. The doors
close. Chico enters and leaves, followed by Harpo, Hennessey, Mrs.
Potter, and Groucho numerous times. Finally Penelope gets the chance
to grab the necklace. She returns to her room and breathes a sigh of
relief. “Alone at last,” she says, as Harpo comes up through her
bed as the scene ends.
Having
failed to interest Mrs. Potter in purchasing Cocoanut Manor, Groucho
decides to hold an auction for the empty lots. To insure that the
bidding is brisk, he brings in Chico and instructs him to how to bid.
“If someone says ‘100’, you say ‘200’.” “Sure,”
replies Chico. Groucho continues, “And if some says ‘300’, you
say . . .” “400,” Chico replies, “I gotcha.” Groucho shows
Chico the blueprints of the area, pointing out the highlights. When
Groucho mentions the levees, Chico asks if that’s the Jewish
neighborhood. “Well,” answers Groucho, “we’ll pass over
that.” Soon, however, all goes for naught when Groucho points out a
viaduct on the property. “Why-a duck?” Chico wants to know.
“Why-a no chicken?” “I don’t know ‘why-a no chicken,”
Groucho responds. “I’m a stranger here myself.” However no
matter how many explanations Groucho tries to provide to the
question, all fall upon deaf ears, for Chico can’t understand why-a
no duck? It’s a classic routine and the timing is excellent, as if
they’ve been doing it on the stage all along.
Come
the actual auction, however, and all of Groucho’s plans have been
for naught. Chico takes his instructions literally, topping every
bid, even his own. Somehow, Bob Adams sneaks in to purchase Lot 26.
Mrs. Potter then announces her necklace is missing. “I’ll offer a
$1,000 reward to whoever finds it.” Chico, still on a roll, says
“2,000.” Harpo hands her the necklace. When Hennessey questions
Bob as to why he bought the lot on which Harpo found the necklace,
Penelope breaks down and tells Bob she was only joking about him
taking the necklace.
Chico
and Harpo arrive at the jail to spring Bob. Harpo places a chisel on
the lock, but keeps hitting his hand with the mallet until he smiles
and suddenly remembers he had the key in his pocket all along. Once
back at the hotel, Groucho and Bob try to figure out the crime while
Harpo picks both their pockets, including Groucho’s bridgework.
At
the party Mrs. Potter laughs at Groucho’s costume while Harpo
steals Hennessey’s shirt. This leads to Hennessey breaking into
song about getting his shirt back, a ditty called “I Want My
Shirt,” sung to the tune of Bizet’s Carmen. Groucho
proceeds to deliver a speech that parodies every speech made at
various functions, thanking everyone for the retirement watch for his
20 years on the railroad, “which reminds me of the story of the
Irishman,” as everyone laughs, “It’s so funny,” he continues,
“I wish I could remember it.”
Mrs.
Potter is asked to speak. Harpo gets up from his seat with an annoyed
look on his face and shortly returns looking mellower. Yates is asked
to speak. Once again Harpo rises and leaves. We then see his
destination is the punch bowl, from which he drinks liberally. Yates
replies that he doesn’t know what to say. “Then shut up,” Chico
advises. Groucho shakes his hand. Chico walks to the piano. “Senor
Pastrami, what is the first number?” asks Mrs. Potter. “Number
one,” replies Chico, and proceeds to launch into Victor Herbert’s
“Gypsy Love Song,” displaying the tricks with his right hand that
would become commonplace in later Marx films.
When
it becomes Polly’s turn to speak, she produces the map in Yates’
handwriting that led Penelope to the hiding place to stash the
necklace. Yates and Hammer are arrested and Mrs. Potter announces
that Polly will marry Bob Adams, who has won the job to design
Cocoanut Manor, instead. The film ends with Yates and Penelope
handcuffed to each other, the Marx Brothers waving to the audience,
and Bob and Polly singing the dreadful “When My Dreams Come True”
as the film fades to black.
It’s
interesting to see each Marx brother as he develops his character.
Groucho starts off hesitatingly, but picks up steam as the move
progresses. Groucho’s genius is in subverting any semblance of a
rational conversation by beginning normally, but soon breaking it
down into a maze of puns, invented words, asides, thoughts spoken
aloud, and statements contradicting each other. Because of this, he
needs a foil. Fortunately, he has one of the very best in Margaret
Dumont, who in their pictures always personified the epitome of
class, good manners and social graces. It was Groucho’s job to tear
her down and leave her confused, which he did with panache. In The
Cocoanuts, their scenes together are somewhat on the stiff side;
seemingly they are getting used to each other in the new medium of
film. In later films, she is charmed by his raffishness, but here she
is merely insulted and flustered. She also has a brief, but funny
scene with Harpo during the bedroom scene. He lies on the bed and
pats it for her to join him. “What?” she asks. “Certainly not!”
Of
course, the one person Groucho cannot get the best of with his patter
is Chico, who always gets the better of him. Chico’s use of
language is not for communication, except in the case of Harpo. For
everyone else, it is an instrument of obfuscation, especially
Groucho. Take the “Why-a-duck” routine. Chico’s almost gleeful
response to Groucho’s attempt at a rational explanation is to pose
a question that Groucho cannot answer because there simply is no
answer. In later films he will hone this to a fine point, causing
Groucho to respond with lines such as, “There’s my argument,
restrict immigration,” (Monkey Business) and “Chicolini
here may look like an idiot, and talk like an idiot, but don’t let
that fool you. He really is an idiot.” (Duck Soup) The only
time he ever came close to being bested was in Animal
Crackers, when he noticed that philanthropist Roscoe W. Chandler
(Louis Sorin) is really Abie Kabbible, a fish peddler. When Chico
asks, “How did you get to be Roscoe W. Chandler?” Chandler fires
back, “How did you get to be an Italian?” It didn’t matter
because Chico gets the better of him anyway.
Harpo’s
character is the most primal, completely nonverbal, and the most
subversive. Seeing him in The Cocoanuts for the
first time must have been revolutionary. He is on the screen for no
more than a few minutes before he is eating a bellhop’s uniform
buttons, tearing up the guests’ mail, eating a telephone and
drinking ink. His taxi horn is not only used for communication, but
also as a weapon. He is almost a pure primal force; only Harpo would
come out of the middle of a bed. Chico acts as his interpreter and
buffer, but once unleashed Harpo is capable of anything. He comes
close to the trickster of folklore, making mischief for its own sake.
He improvised his antics, as compared to his brothers, who had their
material written for them. “How can you write for Harpo?” George
S. Kaufman once mused. “All you can write is ‘Harpo enters.’
From that point, he’s on his own.”
Harpo’s
red wig photographed darker in The Cocoanuts, which
caused him to lighten it for subsequent films. It has been said that
he donned a blonde wig, but the truth is that he lightened his usual
red wig. This is noted in Horse Feathers and Duck
Soup by his character’s name – Pinky. And in Go
West from 1940, one of the saloon girls tells her co-workers
to “watch out for the redhead. He’s a terror.”
For
his part Groucho was fascinated with the jargon of filmmaking. As
recounted by Joe Adamson in his authoritative Groucho, Harpo,
Chico and Sometimes Zeppo (the book of the films of
the Marx Brothers), Groucho was taking a break on the set while the
director and the cameraman tried to solve a problem of lighting a
scene. It seems that the floodlight (called a “broad” in the
technical lingo) wasn’t strong enough and it was suggested that
perhaps a spotlight (known as a “baby”) could facilitate matters.
Cameraman Joseph Folsey turned to director Robert Florey and assured
him he would take care of the problem: “I’ll stick a baby in that
broad before the afternoon’s over.” This caused Groucho no
shortage of amusement as filming continued.
And
what of Zeppo? He has little to do here, a trend that continued until
he quit the act after Duck Soup in 1933. Zeppo’s
problem was that by the time he joined his brothers there was no room
for any character he could develop. Groucho was the fast-talker,
Harpo the frantic mime, and Chico the dialect comedian. The common
assumption today is that Zeppo had no talent. That wasn’t true. He
was an excellent actor and was said to be the funniest of the
brothers offstage. Zeppo’s true value to the act was in his ability
to take over for his brothers if they were too ill to perform: He
could sub for his brothers and frequently no one was the wiser. (It
beat another, lesser understudy in the role or refunding the patrons’
money.) When Groucho underwent an appendectomy during the road trip
for Animal Crackers, Zeppo took over his role. Groucho
attended a performance in Chicago, and when he saw just how good his
little brother was, he got well quickly. When the Marxs stopped
performing in plays and limited themselves to the screen, there was
no place for Zeppo to go, so he remained in his role as the Marx
Brother with nothing to do.
The
problem with The Cocoanuts lay in the direction.
Florey saw himself as a traffic cop while Santley restricted himself
to the musical numbers, wanting no part of the Marxs. Groucho was
later quoted as saying, "One of them didn't understand English
and the other didn't understand comedy." Florey also had a
problem with sound film as well. There are too many shots in the
movie that seem placed there simply to have a shot, such as in the
banquet scene where Florey cuts to two close-ups of Kay Francis
without any apparent connection. The main problem is that the movie
just doesn’t move, remaining what it originally was, a filmed
version of the play.
In
Marx Brothers lore it’s said that when the film was screened for
its stars they were appalled and wanted to buy the negative back to
prevent its release. I could accept this were it not for the fact
that the Brothers supposedly said the same thing about Humor
Risk. Perhaps they got their way with that one, as it’s lost.
At any rate, The Cocoanuts was a big hit at the box
office with a gross of $1,800,000, which made it one of the most
successful of the early taking films, and promising Paramount of
future riches in subsequent films.
Trivia: Look
for Barton MacLane in a cameo as a lifeguard at the end of the film’s
opening number.
Legend
has it that Paramount head Adolph Zukor balked at paying the Marxs
$75,000 for starring in the film. He later met with Chico, who told
Zukor it was a true honor to meet with one of the giants of the
industry and it was such an honor that he and his brothers agreed to
do The Cocoanuts for only $100,000. Zukor,
completely flattered, agreed that was, indeed, a low price and signed
the contracts.
