It's been suggested by more than one intelligent film critic that the Golden Age of movie comedies ended with the arrival of sound. Probably the earliest definitive refutation of that is this 1929 film introducing motion-picture audiences to the Marx Brothers.
The great Florida land boom has yet to hit the swampy resort town of Coconut Beach, where hotel owner Mr. Hammer (Groucho) and his assistant (Zeppo) deal with a paucity of paying guests and a platoon of bellhops who haven't been paid in weeks. Hammer manages to placate them ("You wanna be wage slaves? And what makes wage slaves? Wages!") but finds two new arrivals (Chico and Harpo) less easy to sucker while he tries to marry into the wealthy arms of the widow Mrs. Potter (Margaret Dumont).
It may be the Marxes' least revered film from their Zeppo period, but this, the earliest surviving comedy of theirs, provides more than quaint curio appeal or historic interest. It's a nice transfer of their stage act, using one of their successful Broadway plays with nifty direction by Robert Florey and Joseph Santley. While hobbled by early sound technology, there are plenty of neat camera tricks and a less static composition than on offer in the next, more heralded, Marx Brothers film, "Animal Crackers," with overhead shots and cutaways. And the antic wordplay, especially from Groucho, is so fast and dense it provides fresh laughs even after five or six screenings.
I even like the singing and dancing, especially an opening number, shot on a soundstage in Queens, N.Y. but dressed to resemble either Florida or a Haircut 100 video. The "let-us-entertain-you" spirit on ample evidence here evokes a fast-fading pre-Depression giddiness where flappers with wide hips and small chests bat eyes at derby-wearing men glad for the attention.
The Brothers themselves don't really need the help, their craft honed to perfection on stage that they clearly know where the laughs are. Groucho and Chico perform one of their classic routines, the "Viaduct/Why A Duck" number, while Harpo does some prime gurning and props his knee upon every passing dame (and some guys).
Groucho takes a look at Chico and Harpo's lone suitcase when they check in.
"That bag's empty!"
"We fill it up before we leave," answers Chico.
The most glaring weakness of "Cocoanuts" is a lamer-than-usual romantic subplot. Allan Jones and Kitty Carlisle slowed things down in "Night At The Opera," but at least they could sing, unlike Mary Eaton and Oscar Shaw, whose caterwauling here may attract dogs to your doorstep from a mile away. Irving Berlin's score is amazing for its inanity. Though "Monkey-Doodle-Doo" isn't quite as bad as its title, it sounds like "Blue Skies" compared to "When My Dreams Come True" a lifeless ballad reprised five (!) times in the picture, including twice by Harpo (once each on oboe and harp).
Dumont is not yet the presence she became in later Marx films, but Kay Francis offers an attractive foil to the Boys as a designing woman who bites off more than she can chew trying to make a stooge of Harpo. Audiences may start off thinking Basil Ruysdael is just another straight man playing a suspicious cop, but the joke's on us, as we discover by the end.
Speaking of straight men, this may be Zeppo's finest film, if you go along with those who argue he was the master of minimalist comedy, serving up subtle metahumor in the face of his brothers' hi-jinks by literally doing nothing on screen. Not until "Night At The Opera," in which he set a new standard by not appearing at all, would Zeppo be quite this masterful again.
The great Florida land boom has yet to hit the swampy resort town of Coconut Beach, where hotel owner Mr. Hammer (Groucho) and his assistant (Zeppo) deal with a paucity of paying guests and a platoon of bellhops who haven't been paid in weeks. Hammer manages to placate them ("You wanna be wage slaves? And what makes wage slaves? Wages!") but finds two new arrivals (Chico and Harpo) less easy to sucker while he tries to marry into the wealthy arms of the widow Mrs. Potter (Margaret Dumont).
It may be the Marxes' least revered film from their Zeppo period, but this, the earliest surviving comedy of theirs, provides more than quaint curio appeal or historic interest. It's a nice transfer of their stage act, using one of their successful Broadway plays with nifty direction by Robert Florey and Joseph Santley. While hobbled by early sound technology, there are plenty of neat camera tricks and a less static composition than on offer in the next, more heralded, Marx Brothers film, "Animal Crackers," with overhead shots and cutaways. And the antic wordplay, especially from Groucho, is so fast and dense it provides fresh laughs even after five or six screenings.
I even like the singing and dancing, especially an opening number, shot on a soundstage in Queens, N.Y. but dressed to resemble either Florida or a Haircut 100 video. The "let-us-entertain-you" spirit on ample evidence here evokes a fast-fading pre-Depression giddiness where flappers with wide hips and small chests bat eyes at derby-wearing men glad for the attention.
The Brothers themselves don't really need the help, their craft honed to perfection on stage that they clearly know where the laughs are. Groucho and Chico perform one of their classic routines, the "Viaduct/Why A Duck" number, while Harpo does some prime gurning and props his knee upon every passing dame (and some guys).
Groucho takes a look at Chico and Harpo's lone suitcase when they check in.
"That bag's empty!"
"We fill it up before we leave," answers Chico.
The most glaring weakness of "Cocoanuts" is a lamer-than-usual romantic subplot. Allan Jones and Kitty Carlisle slowed things down in "Night At The Opera," but at least they could sing, unlike Mary Eaton and Oscar Shaw, whose caterwauling here may attract dogs to your doorstep from a mile away. Irving Berlin's score is amazing for its inanity. Though "Monkey-Doodle-Doo" isn't quite as bad as its title, it sounds like "Blue Skies" compared to "When My Dreams Come True" a lifeless ballad reprised five (!) times in the picture, including twice by Harpo (once each on oboe and harp).
Dumont is not yet the presence she became in later Marx films, but Kay Francis offers an attractive foil to the Boys as a designing woman who bites off more than she can chew trying to make a stooge of Harpo. Audiences may start off thinking Basil Ruysdael is just another straight man playing a suspicious cop, but the joke's on us, as we discover by the end.
Speaking of straight men, this may be Zeppo's finest film, if you go along with those who argue he was the master of minimalist comedy, serving up subtle metahumor in the face of his brothers' hi-jinks by literally doing nothing on screen. Not until "Night At The Opera," in which he set a new standard by not appearing at all, would Zeppo be quite this masterful again.