Wonder Man: Potato Salad Days!

It’s been said that our late loved ones are always with us, watching over us in the hereafter—but Danny Kaye takes the concept and runs with it in 1945’s supernatural RKO/Samuel Goldwyn comedy Wonder Man (WM)!  If you thought Danny was hilarious on his own, wait’ll you see him in the dual roles of famous nightclub star Buzzy Bellew and his brother Edwin Dingle!  As the Doublemint gum commercials, say, it’s double your pleasure, double your fun!

Directed by H. Bruce Humberstone (I Wake up Screaming, Sun Valley Serenade; several Charlie Chan films, among others), WM’s screenwriters included Up in Arms’ Don Hartman; Melville Shavelson from Kaye’s 1946 boxing romp The Kid From Brooklyn; Philip Rapp, creator of Fanny Brice’s Baby Snooks; Arthur Sheekman, gag writer for The Marx Brothers; and Jack Jevne, Eric Hatch, and Eddie Moran from Topper and Way Out West. If these fellas didn’t know their comic ghosts, I don’t know who would!  They say that too many cooks spoil the broth, but in this case, WM turned out to be a musical-comedy smorgasboard and a hip, hilarious, tuneful romp indeed!

From Borscht Belt tummler to Broadway star to multitalented movie star, Danny’s  secret weapon was Sylvia Fine, Danny’s brilliantly talented lyricist, composer, manager, and his wife from 1940 until Danny’s death in 1987.  Sylvia was truly the woman behind the man.  With her brilliant lyrics and wordplay, and Danny’s unbeatable talent and energy, they were an amazing power couple!

Sylvia & Danny:
They're so fine!

Danny’s first film, the 1944 service comedy Up in Arms, was a box-office hit. But with the theatrical release of WM in June 1945, Danny really knocked it out of the park—Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, that is!  As I’ve said in other TotED blog posts, as a native New Yorker, I enjoy watching movies where the action is set in any of New York City’s five boroughs.  I don’t even mind that WM was actually filmed at the Samuel Goldwyn Studios in California and not NYC, since the cast, writers, and sets all have that New York feeling (not to be confused with that Barton Fink feeling).  Even better, the cast includes Huntz Hall, one of our favorite Bowery Boys, as a young sailer who unwittingly gets entangled in the wacky, ghostly hijinks.

We viewers first meet Buzzy Bellew (Kaye) as the star attraction at New York City’s posh Pelican Club (what the world needs now are more affordable swanky nightclubs!  But I digress….).  The brash and brassy Buzzy is as likable as he is zany and hyper, likable, bursting with energy.  To borrow a line from Steve Martin back in his stand-up comedy days, Buzzy is a wild and crazy guy (in the most entertaining ways, of course)!

Enough bad news! Where's the sports page?

Buzzy and his Pelican Club co-star, singer/dancer Midge Mallon (dynamite dancer and former Radio City Music Hall Rockette Vera-Ellen in her movie debut, followed by The Kid from Brooklyn; On the Town; White Christmas, and so much more!) have been a couple for a long time.  Although it’s clear that Buzzy and Midge are both into each other, somehow the cute, talented couple never quite manage to actually get hitched at any of their attempted weddings.  But Midge is a good sport about it, perhaps because Buzzy is always funny, sweet, and apologetic—or maybe because their Pelican Club colleague Monte Rossen (Donald Woods from Watch on the Rhine; True Grit; The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, and more), is a decent, patient joe who’s willing to wait until Midge finally comes to her senses and realizes the devoted Monte is a better bet when it comes to building a life together. 

*POP* goes the marriage proposal!
Buzzy and Midge are betrothed at last!

Ah, but Buzzy’s serious this time, giving Midge a jack-in-the-box attached to a diamond ring!  Vera-Ellen is adorable as Midge, and she and Danny have delightful chemistry.  And what a dancer she was!  Ironically, according to the TCM Web site, even though Vera-Ellen had a perfectly swell singing voice, her numbers were dubbed!  I guess it was like when Audrey Hepburn’s singing voice was dubbed by Marni Nixon for Breakfast at Tiffany’s and My Fair Lady:  they could sing, but apparently not quite well enough for the movies.  Go figure!

People can’t help loving Buzzy—except for notorious mobster, counterfeiter, and killer Ten-Grand Jackson (Steve Cochran, also making his film debut here)!  See, DA O’Brien (Otto Kruger of Murder, My Sweet; Saboteur; High Noon) and the Assistant DA (Richard Lane, best known to Boston Blackie fans as Inspector Farraday) needs Buzzy to testify in the murder trial, one of whose victims include one Choo-Choo Laverne, a fan dancer who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Our antic, overly optimistic entertainer is too overconfident to let New York’s Finest provide him with police protection—not a smart move for a high-profile witness in a murder case, especially when Ten-Grand has just been released on bail!

What's this? Inspector Farraday in league with Jules Amthor?!

Alas, Buzzy realizes too late that he should’ve taken advantage of that police protection, or at least taken the time to read those ominous newspaper headlines splashed all over the news.  Instead, Buzzy makes a fatal splash as Ten-Grand’s strong-arm boys Chimp (Allen Jenkins of Ball of Fire, but this time in funny-yet-sinister-villain mode, as he was in Lady on a Train) and Torso (Edward Brophy, ditto, as he was in The Thin Man and All Through the Night) send Buzzy to sleep with the fishes in Prospect Park’s lake. You have to hand it to the writers for being able to make cold-blooded murder funny without being depressing!

Onstage, Buzzy and Midge are on a Bali high!

Enter Buzzy’s twin brother Edwin Dingle (also played by Danny, natch), a quiet, bookish librarian and researcher.  Edwin and Buster (Buzzy’s real name) haven’t been in touch since young Buster ran away to try his hand at show business, rechristening himself as Buzzy Bellew.  Well, the Dingle boys are about to have a family reunion to catch up with each other, avenge Buzzy’s death, and put Ten-Grand Jackson behind bars for good—but that doesn’t mean ectoplasmic Buzzy won’t liven things up with merry, macabre hijinks along the way!  This isn’t Hamlet, you know! What’s more, romance is blooming between Edwin and his charming co-worker Ellen Shanley (Virginia Mayo, my favorite among Danny’s leading ladies since I saw her in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty).  Keep your eyes peeled for Natalie Schaefer—yes, Gilligan’s Island’s Lovey Howell herself!—appearing briefly and amusingly as a pesky patron of the local library who’s both bewildered and fascinated by Edwin’s ambidextrous abilities.  But Edwin’s date with Ellen takes a hilariously crackpot turn when Buzzy’s ghostly music gets Edwin all farshimmelt on the way to pick up potato salad for their dinner date, and…well, you may never look at deli food with a straight face again, especially with the hilariously frustrated S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall as the deli proprietor!   Another highlight: Danny’s madcap sneezy rendition of the classic Russian song “Otchi Chornniya,” and the climactic opera that collapses into a side-splitting free-for-all!  Hey, wouldn’t WM and A Night at the Opera be a swell double-feature? 

I love a man who can cook and wear an apron with confidence!

Fun Fact:  In addition to WM, Steve Cochran and Virginia Mayo also co-starred in such Oscar-nominated and Oscar-winning classics as White Heat and and The Best Years of our Lives.  Cochran also co-starred in many of Chester Morris’ aforementioned Boston Blackie movies (a favorite here at Team Bartilucci HQ).  I love the charming chemistry between Kaye and Mayo!  WM was Virginia Mayo's first leading lady role with Danny; before that, she had a brief uncredited role in Up in Arms.

"You can lose your mind/
When brothers are two of a kind!"

Exasperated S.Z. Sakall is his usual "Cuddles"-some self! 

WM did very well indeed come Oscar time, winning for the Best Special Effects for John Fulton’s cinematography and A.W. Johns’ sound effects. Leo Robin and David Rose’s number for Vera-Ellen, “So in Love,” got an Oscar nomination for Best Music, Original Song, as well as Best Music Scoring for a Musical Picture, under Ray Heindorf’s direction.  But I can’t complain about  Heindorf losing, considering the Best Music Scoring Oscar that year went to another of my all-time favorites, Miklós Rózsa for Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellbound!   According to the TCM Web site, at one point in WM, Buzzy impishly slips his torso (no, not Edward Brophy’s character!) on a bust at Prospect Park, quipping, “What is this, trick photography?”  Definitely not “palpably inadequate!”  WM is one of  Danny Kaye’s very best movies!

Dead or alive, Buzzy sure knows how to make an entrance! Hiya, Bro!

Sailor Huntz Hall & pals are gobsmacked at Edwin's supernatural powers, courtesy of Buzzy!

All right, opera singer dame, give someone else a turn!

Aw, don't you just love a happy ending?

Review - Danny Kaye: King of Jesters

Danny Kaye was the first performer ever to be personally requested by His Highness to headline a Command Performance, making him King of Jesters and Jester of Kings—but as far as we of Team Bartilucci are concerned, he’s always been royalty in our book!  As longtime TotED readers know, I’ve been a big fan of Danny Kaye (1913—1987) since I was a kid. 

If you’re as much as a Danny Kaye fan as I am, author David Koenig’s latest book: Danny Kaye: King of Jesters (Bonaventure Press, 2012) is a MUST-read!  Koenig’s previous books include Mouse Tales: A Behind-the-Ears Look at Disneyland; and Mouse Under Glass: Secrets of Disney Animation & Theme Parks. He truly does Kaye justice with his affectionate yet clear-eyed view of Kaye’s long, remarkable career—a refreshing and welcome change of pace from certain other biographers who flaunt unfounded rumors about him, using un-called-for scandal-sheet tactics!  Koenig’s book focuses on Kaye’s film and TV work, and the behind-the-scenes info about the making of Kaye’s 17 theatrical films, as well as his TV shows, including his award-winning variety series The Danny Kaye Show (1963—1967).

Like so many great entertainers, the former David Daniel Kaminski was a native New Yorker, born in Brooklyn.  Back then, I was a child growing up in the Bronx in the early 1960s, seeing Danny Kaye for the first time on TV.  One weekend afternoon, WPIX was broadcasting Samuel Goldwyn’s delightful and surprisingly soulful 1947 film adaptation of James Thurber’s The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, and it quickly became one of my all-time favorite movies (and still is!).  Moreover, our mother was a Danny Kaye fan with a passion for fashion; in fact, Mom and my Auntie Joy had been models in their youth, getting opportunities to wear the fashions of designers like …Mitty’s Irene Sharaff, including fabulous hats, some almost as daring as the ones from …Mitty’s  “Anatole of Paris” number. Mom could rock a chapeau like nobody’s business!  Anyway, at home, our whole family often enjoyed Danny’s films, with their catchy music, clever slapstick, and zany wordplay, courtesy of the brilliant, talented woman behind the man:  the amazing Sylvia Fine, Danny’s lyricist, composer, manager, and in 1940, his wife for the rest of his life. The talented Sylvia was responsible for many of Kaye’s most popular songs and musical routines; no wonder Danny became my first celebrity crush, with him and Sylvia as one of my favorite show-biz power couples!

Actress and co-star Betty Garrett (On the Town; Neptune’s Daughter; TV’s Laverne & Shirley) recalled the chemistry between Sylvia and Danny when they met at the Sunday Night Varieties: “I was with Danny in the little Manhattan club when Sylvia was brought in to write some special material. I observed the magic moment when they discovered each other. It was truly love at first sight. I think they fell in love with one another’s talent as much as with one another.”

As Koenig says in his introduction, Wonder Man wasn’t merely the title of one of his hit movies. With his remarkable range, Kaye was versatile as all get-out, racking up triumphs in the worlds of records, television, stage and screen.  To some extent, the versatile, multifaceted Kaye was almost too good, at least from a branding standpoint!  Then as now, agents had to market their clients, but Kaye had so many talents and hooks, the powers that be apparently didn’t quite know where to start with him, as Koenig explains:

“…Kaye’s greatest obstacle to mass popularity was that he could do too much, too well.  He was impossible to classify. Without a brand, he found it difficult initially to make a name for himself and ultimately to keep that name remembered. For his most celebrated triumphs were live on stage, creating an in-person experience that could not be preserved to its full effect except in the memories of the individuals in the audience.  Film, as it turned out, was possibily the worst medium at capturing a Danny Kaye experience—trapping him in a particular character and story, awkwardly trying to show off as many of his divergent talents as possible…Nonetheless, the motion picture is entertainment’s most faithful time capsule, and consequently, offered Kaye his best-remembered roles: the storyteller Hans Christian Andersen, the daydreamer Walter Mitty, and the tongue-tied Court Jester with the vessel in the pestle.  Or was it the flagon with the dragon?”

Danny Kaye and frequent co-star Virginia Mayo

When Danny signed with his first agent, Harry Bestry, in 1937, he'd developed a “Mad Russian” character, to introduce a thickly-accented version of the song “Dinah” (“Deenah, is there anyone feenah/In the state of Caroleenah?”)  Bestry began marketing Danny as The Mad Russian. This character was also spoofed in Warner Bros’. Looney Tunes: the hilarious 1945 short Book Revue (a.k.a Book Review), directed by Bob Clampett.  How fitting, considering Danny’s comedy was broad early on, from his years as a tummler in the Borscht Belt. As you can well imagine, Kaye had audiences in stitches with his over-the-top accents, screaming, and facial contortions.  How could anyone not laugh?

According to the IMDb, although Danny made his Broadway debut in Straw Hat Revue (1939), it was the stage production of the musical Lady in the Dark (1940), starring Broadway superstar Gertrude Lawrence, that brought agents flocking to Danny’s door at last.  Sylvia helped create the routines and gags, and wrote most of the songs that he performed. Danny could sing and dance like many others, but his specialty was reciting those tongue-twisting songs and monologues.. Danny could sing and dance like many others, but his specialty was reciting those tongue-twisting songs and monologues.

Koenig goes on to say that Samuel Goldwyn had intended to use Kaye as a new Eddie Cantor. Goldwyn did end up hiring Thurber to contribute to the script, but most of his suggestions were ignored. The ones that were used justifiably got the boot (and I don’t mean the film’s villain!), including a melancholy Irish daydream and lots of small talk between Mitty and his dreary so-called loved-ones. I'd heard that other …Mitty scenes left on the cutting-room floor included a pub scene (meant as part of the Irish scene, perhaps?) included a scene with our hero dealing with a Frankenstein monster (to play off co-star Boris Karloff, maybe?), or something like it!

Then there was the epic comedy The Court Jester (1956), now justifiably hailed as a classic. It was well received upon its original theatrical release, but it ended up being so expensive to produce that it seemed doomed to lose money—sheesh, it’s always something! Even more frustrating, Kaye’s star had begun to fade, since he’d  been off movie screens for two years, albeit for humanitarian reasons:  he’d been traveling the world for UNICEF (more about that shortly).  Luckily, time has been kind; over the years, The Court Jester started to turn up frequently on TV and on Blu-Ray and DVD, getting discovered by new audiences who love to laugh.

Danny enjoyed appearing onstage, but seemed uncomfortable doing interviews, talk shows, or other promotional work on his days off; to be fair, who can blame him?  Still, by the early 1950s, his agent thought he needed better rapport with the general public.  Fate stepped in on a jet plane, where Danny found himself sitting next to the head of UNICEF. Their work helping the impoverished children of the world touched Danny deeply. He agreed to travel to promote the organization, and did so tirelessly for the remaining 32 years of his life. 

Furthermore, earlier this month, TCM celebrated Danny Kaye’s 100^th birthday (give or take a year) with a 24-hour marathon of virtually every one of his classic movies, hosted by Robert Osborne and Danny's journalist daughter Dena Kaye, as well as airings of The Danny Kaye Show and a 1968 episode from his stint on The Dick Cavett Show.  Dare we hope there might also DVD/Blu-Ray editions of Kaye’s classic films in the near future, too?

Click here to read John Greco's great Twenty-Four Frames interview with author David Koenig!

Coming Soon to TotED: Wonder Man!
Enjoy the Looney Tunes cartoon "Book Review" playfully spoofing Danny Kaye!

An Analysis of The Paranoia Flick, or: You're Not Paranoid if They Really ARE Out to Get You! - By Team Bartilucci

"You gentlemen aren’t really trying to kill my son, are you?”

Jessie Royce Landis, unconvinced that thugs Adam Williams and Robert Ellenstein want to do just that to Cary Grant in North by Northwest (1959)

The spy film typically features a suave, sophisticated man about town who shoots at suave evil men about town over, say, a vital document that both parties are after. A horror film pits some everyday nebbish against some slimy, slithery fiend from Hell that nobody understands, but that everyone can at least see. But when you merge these two concepts, pitting the everyday nebbish against the suave men about town over something that only the suave guys know about and the nebbish doesn’t even know he or she has, you have the beginnings of one of Team Bartilucci’s favorite types of films: The Paranoia Flick.

Foul Play: I'll be watching you! (And vice-versa!)

The basic idea of The Paranoia Flick is simple. Place a total nobody into a situation involving spies, secret codes, beautiful members of the (traditionally) opposite sex, and almost certain death, and watch them collapse. In these films, the most important factor is the actors in the assorted roles. The target must be somebody you can believe is scared. Clint Eastwood, for example, would never succeed as a paranoia target! Even at his age, you’d be sure Clint would come through it all, cool as an October breeze. But some vulnerable yet likable sort like, say, Goldie Hawn, who was wonderful in Foul Play (1978), works perfectly in such a role. In fact, the late Colin Higgins, writer/director of Foul Play and writer of Silver Streak (1976), had a gift for paranoid comedy-thrillers with a Hitchcockian flair.

It doesn’t matter why the star of the film is being chased hither and yon, either. Cary Grant asked Alfred Hitchcock why his character was being chased all over the map in North by Northwest. Hitchcock (and consequently, Leo G. Carroll as the spymaster known as The Professor) answered, “Oh, I don’t know. Government secrets, perhaps?” Hitchcock, of course, gave us movie fans the term “MacGuffin” for the plot device that gets the story and the characters moving. Our favorite use of this was in, of all things, a G.I. Joe episode, in which both Joe and COBRA were in heated battle over a weapon known as “The MacGuffin Device.”

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. used the idea of the innocent person asked to assist with spy activities on a regular basis, said person usually being a lovely young woman who either worked for the bad guy, or used to go out with him, or some other vague connection they could exploit. While the guest star knew the situation she was getting into , there were still lots of opportunities for them to become convinced that everyone was a Thrush operative except, of course, for the ones who were.

Paranoia Flicks are generally comedies; if the plot is not being played for laughs, it ends up being more of a thriller like the aforementioned North by Northwest (NxNW), or the pretty solid early Will Smith film Enemy of the State, but the basic pieces of the puzzle are usually there. All Paranoia Flicks, be they comedy or thriller, must have certain essential scenes in order to make the Paranoia Cut:

The Drop Scene.  This is when the main character receives the MacGuffin, often literally dropped into their hands, and pretty much everyone on the planet notices except our unsuspecting protagonist.

In the case of a film like NxNW, Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) doesn't get an object; he's simply mistaken for someone else, the mythical George Kaplan. In the 1947 classic The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (TSLoWM), Rosalind van Hoorn (Virginia Mayo) slips the book of stolen Dutch treasures into poor schlub Walter Mitty's (Danny Kaye) coat while he's busy dithering. In The Man with One Red Shoe, the oft-forgotten 1985 American remake of the 1972 French comedy classic The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe, Tom Hanks is himself the drop! He's identified as the contact who's carrying incriminating evidence by Edward Herrmann, but no such information exists — he's really just an unsuspecting decoy to give the other group of spies someone to chase and follow.

Gotcha! - Smoke gets in your eyes, spies get in your strudel..

The Misdirected MacGuffin.  Often, our protagonist thinks he knows what the MacGuffin is, and he ends up guarding some worthless object with his life, leaving the real MacGuffin at the villains’ mercy.

There’s a classic example in the delightful yet surprisingly underrated 1985 comedy-thriller Gotcha!  In East Berlin (long story), the lovely and mysterious Sasha Banacek (Linda Fiorentino) has handed a package to our innocent college-boy hero Jonathan Moore (Anthony Edwards) behind the Iron Curtain. Since Jonathan has been immersed in paranoia-inducing antics for a while at this point in the movie, when Sasha tells him the package contains strudel, Jonathan thinks it’s code for, oh, Secret Government Strudel, perhaps (“Strudel, riiiight, strudel….”).

Gene Wilder doesn't support his local sheriff!

The Explanation Sequence.  This is Team Bartilucci’s personal favorite amongst Paranoia Flick tropes! Here’s where our hero must convince friends and/or loved ones that he’s in real danger, and not insane. Some of the best lines usually happen here, as the main character babbles a Cliffs Notes version of the script, with all the credible stuff left out, and a lot of iterations of “I’m not crazy!” put in.

Since it's the easiest scene to make funny, there are scads of examples of classic explanation sequences. In NxNW, perplexed hero Roger Thornhill tries to convince the Glen Cove police that he really was forcibly plied with bourbon by henchman Leonard (Martin Landau) and nearly killed in what was supposed to look like a drunk-driving accident. In a great twist, we don't hear Roger explain the events, we hear his lawyer (played by Get Smart's "Chief" Edward Platt) explain it all to the judge with a look of weary resignation on his face.

In TSLoWM, not only does Walter try in vain to convince everyone that The Boot’s henchmen are trying to kill him, but thanks to a Mickey Finn, he awakens to find one of the chief bad guys, Dr. Hugo Hollingshead (Boris Karloff), pulling a Gaslight routine on him, claiming he only imagined his dream girl Rosalind.

In Silver Streak (1976), Colin Higgins’ first great paranoid Hitchcockian comedy-thriller screenplay, our hero George Caldwell (Gene Wilder), who’s been traveling on the titular cross-country train, tries to explain the mysterious events and rising body count surrounding the MacGuffin to Sheriff Oliver Chauncey (Clifton James). In this case, the MacGuffin’s a book, The Rembrandt Letters, which contains startling revelations that would embarrass and disgrace the art-world bad guys if they don’t knock George off (and we don’t just mean the running gag about George constantly being knocked off the train). Naturally, our frazzled hero’s explanation is causing more confusion than enlightenment:  

Sheriff Chauncey: “Is he with the feds?”
George Caldwell: “Who?”
Sheriff Chauncey: “This guy Rembrandt.”
George Caldwell: “Rembrandt is dead!”
Sheriff Chauncey: “Dead? That makes four. Listen, fella, are you sure you’re not making this up as you go along? I’m an officer of the law and I got a lot better things to do than listen to that kind of funnin’. [Buzzer sounds] That's my hotline. Now you take your time to get your facts straight, ’cause when I come back, I want your answers clear and to the point. Got that? And you can start with who shot Rembrandt!”

The False Alarm.  Here’s where the main character overreacts to every snap of a twig, and thinks each stray glance means a spy or some other no-goodnik is on his trail. It’s usually at these points in the films that all the innocent people get hurt and/or humiliated, making the poor main character look even crazier. In Gotcha!, Jonathan runs a driver off the road when he mistakes them for Russian thugs following him, and pulls over to phone the police, frantically saying, "I want to report a following!"

The Turnabout.  Near the end of The Paranoia Flick, our protagonist has had enough of this evil folderol and fiddle-dee-dee, and finally gathers up all his intestinal fortitude and takes charge of the situation. This usually ends the film in a funny and/or exciting, suspenseful way, getting our hero back in the good graces of his friends and loved ones.

For example, after Walter Mitty finally finds and rescues his beloved Rosalind, he grows a backbone and starts using the tricks he picked up as a reader and editor of racy pulp magazines against his assailants, wiring doorknobs for electricity and setting up rope snares. Eventually he stands up to his family and so-called friends, and tells them off with a great bit of bravado that even wows Walter’s fat-headed, credit-nabbing boss (Thurston Hall), to the tune of promoting Walter to Associate Editor:

“Now you’re all going to listen to me. For years I’ve been listening to you, and you nearly put me in a straitjacket! Your small minds are musclebound with suspicion. That's because the only exercise you ever get is jumping to conclusions. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, every one of you!”

As an example of a film that hits every note perfectly, let's look at Dorian's personal favorite, Foul Play (1978), both written and directed by Colin Higgins, which, as good as it is, still beats the Higgins-penned Silver Streak to the title by 27 lengths.

Goldie Hawn plays lovable heroine Gloria Mundy (one of our favorite character names). Gloria lives in San Francisco (the film gives a nice tip of the hat to both Vertigo and Bullitt), but it’s no treat; she’s trying to adjust to her new life as a divorcee. Her friends suggest that she “take some chances.” So Gloria picks up a stranded but attractive motorist (Bruce Solomon of TV’s Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman and Lanigan’s Rabbi), and wouldn’t you know the cute motorist-in-need, Bob “Scotty” Scott, is an undercover police detective on a case? Scotty turns on the charm and makes a date with Gloria for that night at the local revival theater. He surreptitiously slips a roll of film into his half-empty pack of cigarettes (The Drop), then asks the unsuspecting Gloria to hold onto his cigarette pack until their date, claiming it’ll help him cut back on his smoking. Alas, the bad guys get Scotty first; he staggers into the dark theater wet and bleeding, spending his last moments trying to distract Gloria from the film noir onscreen, his last words being “Beware of the dwarf.” By the time Gloria realizes what’s happening and rushes to the manager (Team B. fave Chuck McCann) for help, Scotty’s corpse has vanished, and the paranoia has taken a ringside seat.


Soon Gloria’s being terrorized by a man with a scar (Don Calfa) and one Whitey Jackson (William Frankfather), an albino in a white suit. These evil jaspers work for a hit man known as “The Dwarf.” In the following excerpts, the bad guys had broken into Gloria’s apartment, looking for that cigarette pack. None of them realize it’s hiding in plain sight, having fallen out of Scarface’s hand during the attack at Gloria’s charming apartment. They’re also unaware that the film in that cigarette pack contains evidence about an assassination taking place that week! Alas, Gloria fainted after seeing Scarface shockingly killed by Whitey's flying dagger (loss of consciousness is a time-honored recurring theme in Paranoia Flicks), so by the time she comes to and finds her apartment tidied up and corpse-free, she has a hard time getting through The Explanation Sequence of her nerve-shattering experience to police detectives Lt. Tony Carlson (Chevy Chase in his first leading-man role) and Inspector “Fergie” Ferguson (Brian Dennehy):

Gloria: “The dead body! It’s gone! It vanished!”
Tony: “Well, maybe it was embarrassed. Come on in here. I think you’d better sit down.”
Gloria: “But you don’t understand. The body has disappeared.”
Fergie: “Whose body was it?”
Gloria: “I don’t know. A man with a scar. He tried to murder me, but I stabbed him with the needles.”
Fergie: “Oh, narcotics, huh?”
Gloria: “No, knitting….I’ve got it! It must have been the albino…He’s the one who killed the man with the scar.”
Fergie: “I thought you killed the man with the scar.”
Gloria: “I did. Except he killed him after I killed him. See, I didn’t really kill him, I just stabbed him with the needles, right after he heard the cuckoo.” (Cuckoo clock cuckoos on schedule.)
Fergie: “Why did he wanna kill you?”
Gloria: “I’m not sure, but I think it was because of the cigarettes.”
Tony: “He wanted a cigarette?”
Gloria: “No, he wanted the whole pack!”
Fergie: “Kind of greedy.”

Gloria gets a visit from Innocent Dwarf J.J. MacKuen (Billy Barty) after she's been assaulted a couple of times, and has a hilarious False Alarm all over him, giving Barty a chance to do the physical comedy he so excelled at. While they never actually find the MacGuffin in the film, it remains Misdirected in that they think the pack of cigarettes itself is what they're after, not the film canister within.

She gets a couple of Turnabout scenes in the film, one rather early in the proceedings as she takes out a comic-book-reading moron (*sigh* — too long was comic-book-reading by an adult a shorthand for simple-mindedness. But I digress....) with the aid of some anti-rape gear provided by ubiquitous-at-the-time Marilyn Sokol. As Janet Maslin noted in her New York Times review of Foul Play, “…when a thug makes the mistake of catching Miss Hawn by surprise, she greets him with the most adorably indignant little shriek the movies have witnessed in years. Miss Hawn often looks frightened…but she even more often looks tremulously furious, and that’s her secret weapon…once (trouble) arrives, she’s never too out-to-lunch to lose her temper. And her anger, imbued with all the quivering, outraged self-righteousness Miss Hawn can muster, is enough to make the most hardened villain or moviegoer melt.”

Strangely enough, the greatest Paranoia Flick of all time is missing quite a few of the classic factors. We refer, of course, to writer/director Theodore J. Flicker's The President’s Analyst (1967), starring James Coburn, who had the coolest and scariest (in a good way) smile in show business. Coburn plays Dr. Sidney Schaefer, who’s appointed to be the titular role at the recommendation of his analyst Dr. Lee-Evans (Will Geer), after being thoroughly vetted by "CEA" agent Don Masters (Godfrey Cambridge). When Masters reveals his true identity, Sidney, used to having delusional patients before, asks for ID. Imagine his surprise when he gets it!

After a few sessions with the President, Sidney realizes that he is learning far too much in his position, and he starts worrying that all the world’s rival governments will try to kidnap him or even kill him for what he knows — and it turns out he’s right! At one point, when he realizes that even his lover, the sweet, gentle Nan (Joan Delaney), is a spy sent in to keep tabs on him (giving new meaning to the phrase "undercover agent"), Sidney flees Washington with the help of a typical suburban family (led by William "KITT" Daniels), only to find he’s being followed by every combination of the "Same Alphabet Soup" a la NxNW, up to and including the Canadian Secret Service.  As proof of the counterculture spin of the film, the only people in the entire film not out to capture or otherwise exploit Sidney is a busload of hippies he joins up with. Eventually he's captured and handed over to Kropotkin (the whamtaculous Severn Darden) who Sidney proceeds to psychoanalyze and turn to his cause.

The real enemy in the film comes from so far out in left field that it was playing in another stadium! If you’ve seen The President’s Analyst, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s one of the most devious paranoia flicks of all time. If you haven’t, it’s available on DVD, and through Netflix.
Got a favorite Paranoia Flick you’d like to praise to the skies, if you dare? Don’t be afraid — tell us about it before it’s too late!

A Paranoia Picture is Worth a Thousand Words!

THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY: Beautiful Dreamers and Thurberesque Schemers

This post is being republished as part of the "For the Boys" Blogathon hosted by The Scarlett Olive from November 19th to November 20th, 2011.

Some of the otherwise knowledgeable younger classic film fans I know have barely heard of the great entertainer Danny Kaye (1913--1987). I’m here to help change all that! Director Norman Z. McLeod and screenwriters Ken Englund, Everett Freeman, and an uncredited Philip Rapp transformed one of my favorite stories by one of my favorite authors, James Thurber, into one of my favorite movies, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (TSLoWM — patience, you might find an ad before the trailer). Samuel Goldwyn transformed Thurber's classic short story into a delightful and surprisingly soulful 1947 musical comedy-thriller. This was the very first Danny Kaye movie I ever saw when I was a child growing up in the Bronx, watching it on TV on WPIX. My mom had turned me on to the film, being a fan of both Kaye and pretty clothes. I think she enjoyed watching little me ooh and aah at Irene Sharaff’s gorgeous fashions (especially the hats; Mom could rock a chapeau like nobody’s business!) as much as we both enjoyed Kaye’s zany slapstick and wordplay. Frankly, Kaye became my first celebrity crush, thanks to the miracle of movies on TV. It’s still my favorite Kaye film, as well as one of my favorite movies of all time. Such Kaye classics as Wonder Man and The Court Jester might be more consistently wacky, but TSLoWM especially appeals to me because it brings out Kaye’s vulnerable side. 

If Walter marries Gertrude, they'll have to change the title to The Dreary Life of "Walty Mittens!"

It usually drives me up the wall when I see movie characters allowing themselves to be as put-upon and henpecked as Kaye's Walter Mitty is here, but I found myself able to sympathize. In this Goldwyn version, Walter is a shy young man still living with his mother (Oscar veteran Fay Bainter) in Perth Amboy, NJ. The gentle, hapless Walter is henpecked almost to the point of emotional abuse. The poor guy gets it from all sides! His well-meaning mother treats him like a child. (Am I the only one who finds it a tad creepy when an adult parent kisses an adult child on the lips, as is done here and in many other films?)  His fiancée, Gertrude Griswold (Ann Rutherford of Gone with the Wind; Two O'Clock Courage; Red Skelton's Whistling In... comedy-mystery film series), while pretty and perky, is nevertheless a stuffed skirt who’s more concerned about appearances, her yappy dog Queenie, and her domineering mother (veteran screen battle-axe Florence Bates of Rebecca; On the Town; I Remember Mama) as she bosses Walter around in her maddeningly cutesy way. Then there’s Tubby Wadsworth (Gordon Jones of McClintock!; My Sister Eileen; You Belong to Me), who keeps proposing to Gertrude—which was fine with me, because I thought those two tiny-minded twits deserved each other (hasn’t Walter suffered enough?)! 

How to Meet Cute Shy Guys, Lesson 1: Slip a little black book listing hot jewels into Shy Guy's briefcase. It's a great little ice-breaker!

Speaking of bosses and bossing, Walter has what should be a way cool job as a proofreader of pulp fiction at the Pierce Publishing Company in New York City. Too bad boss man Mr. Pierce (Thurston Hall of Lady on a Train; Theodora Goes Wild; The Great Lie) is always belittling Walter one minute and stealing his ideas the next. Under the circumstances, who can blame Walter for living in his daydreams (nice use of the song “Beautiful Dreamer”)? That’s where he leads one heroic life and musical production number after another as a fighter pilot, ship captain, Mississippi riverboat gambler, and Western gunslinger, each daydream wittily spoofing the genre stories Walter proofreads. 

Our hero is happy to hold the Mayo!

But our hero is put to the test when lovely, wholesome Rosalind van Hoorn (frequent Kaye co-star Virginia Mayo, great together in comedies like Wonder Man, as well as Mayo's dramatic performances in White Heat; Flaxy Martin; The Best Years of Our Lives;) finds herself becoming a damsel in distress. Seems that Rosalind and her Uncle Peter from Holland (free “Dutch uncle” joke, go wild) are up against bad guys led by a no-goodnik known only as “The Boot” (not to be confused with “Das Boot”), with his cohort Dr. Hugo Hollingshead (the scene-stealing Boris Karloff) and henchman Hendrick (Henry Corden, before he became the second actor to give voice to Fred Flintstone, including a brief but memorable bit in The Asphalt Jungle). These nasty jaspers want a little black book, but this book doesn’t have fair maidens’ phone numbers; it lists jewels and art treasures hidden from the Nazis. Paranoia, adventure, hilarity, and budding romance abound. Will Our Man Mitty’s dreams of heroism come true, and will his and Rosalind’s tulips meet?

There’s a sweetness about Danny Kaye in this role that’s always had me rooting for Walter instead of merely growling, “Oh, tell 'em all to go to hell already.” As a result, it's that much more satisfying when Walter finally does tell off his obnoxious so-called friends and loved ones (unlike such “comedies of cruelty” as, say, 1990’s Madhouse, where the last 10 minutes of Revenge Against The Oppressors was the only entertaining part of the film)! James Thurber reportedly tried to buy off Goldwyn to keep the film from being made, and hated the finished product. With all due respect to Thurber, I think perhaps he wasn't being quite fair. First off, books and movies have different storytelling requirements, and second, the first 10 minutes are almost straight from Thurber's story, except it's Walter and his nagging mom instead of a nagging wife. 

James Thurber by Rick Geary

It’s easy to let yourself become distracted by Goldwyn’s fabulous production values—to say nothing of the fabulous Goldwyn Girls—but look sharp and you’ll catch Thurber’s sting-in-the tail wit. As Walter's literal and figurative dream girl Rosalind, Kaye's frequent leading lady Virginia Mayo was thoroughly beguiling and never looked lovelier—and hey, the radiant Mayo was a size 12 and nobody considered her a "plus size," thank you very much! TSLoWM also contains two of my favorite Danny Kaye/Sylvia Fine musical numbers: “Anatole of Paris” and “Symphony for Unstrung Tongue;” in the latter, am I the only one who finds the line “He gets so excited that he has a solo passage” to be subtly salacious? My husband Vinnie and I like to think that Uncle Peter's grand home must be located in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, where we lived for over a decade, since it reminded me of the kind of homes we used to see while strolling in the Fieldston area. Also, it didn't seem to take horrifically long for Walter and Rosalind to drive there from the Flatiron district of Manhattan; of course, that could simply be the magic of filmmaking.

Could Rosalind's Uncle Peter be Bruno Antony's neighbor?!

Incidentally, I've always thought the interior of the van Hoorn home looks a lot like the interior of evil Bruno Antony's home in Strangers on a Train; does anyone here know if these scenes might have been shot in the same house/set? I wish the few extras had included deleted scenes; there's a bit in the trailer with Karloff and Corden in a pub that I definitely don't recall seeing in the finished film. On the DVD and LaserDisc (yes, we still own the latter—good thing, too, since we can’t seem to find TSLoWM DVDs that aren’t Korean), it was nice to see the intro and outro with Virginia Mayo still alive and well at the time (and bigger than the "size 12" mentioned in the fashion show scene, but on her it was pleasant plumpness, in my opinion!), even though Mayo only had time to say one line each about her co-stars: "Ann Rutherford was delightful...Fay Bainter was a consummate actress...Boris Karloff was a true gentleman..." Anyway, if you’re not already a Danny Kaye fan, TSLoWM just might make you one!  

"That does it: from now on, I'm working from home!"

Mayo's aghast, Kaye's agape, and Karloff's a ghoul!