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A unique performer who enjoyed a successful stage career before turning to the movies, W. C. Fields was unlike any other screen comedian. He always played characters with the same traits: caustic, cynical, sarcastic, skeptical, and generally unpleasant. He almost always exhibited a fondness for the grape, a disdain for authority, and a dislike of children. Fields was the one movie madcap who could get away with kicking a toddler in the seat of his diapers. Unsurpassed in the dry delivery of dialogue and the employment of comic “takes” (reactions), he was also unusually nimble, thanks to his early career as a juggler, and incorporated this skill into eye-popping bits -- usually just throwaways -- that focused on his dexterity. This five-movie collection represents Fields at his very best; indeed, each film in the quintet is a recognized classic. International House (1933) is not, strictly speaking, a Fields vehicle; it’s an all-star revue whose participants, unfortunately, are totally forgotten today. But that doesn’t affect the timelessness of W. C.’s delightful turn as a tipsy troublemaker who arrives onboard an ocean liner via autogyro (a forerunner of the helicopter). It’s a Gift (1934) casts Fields as a small-town grocery clerk who also happens to be a henpecked husband. In addition to sparring with scene-stealing Baby LeRoy (the tyke on the receiving end of the aforementioned foot), he tangles with a blind man looking for someone named Carl LaFong. You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man (1939), Fields’s first film for Universal, pits him against ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and dummy Charlie McCarthy, with whom W. C. was then feuding over the airwaves. His two 1940 releases are often considered his best. The Bank Dick casts him as a bank guard who quite inadvertently foils a robbery and becomes a hero; a totally superfluous but hilarious subplot finds him mistaken for a movie director. My Little Chickadee, a period piece set in the Wild West, teams Fields with the irrepressible Mae West -- a pairing that results in some of the funniest dialogue exchanges you’re ever likely to hear. This distinctive performer -- who also wrote many of his starring vehicles under bizarre pseudonyms such as Mahatma Kane Jeeves -- is one of relatively few who can be legitimately described as inimitable, and watching these five film classics amply demonstrates why. Ed Hulse
All Movie Guide
W.C. Fields plays Egbert Souse, a bibulous denizen of Lompoc who supports his family by winning radio contests. When a fleeing bank robber is knocked cold upon tripping over the park bench where Egbert sits, Souse is hailed as a hero and offered the job of bank guard. The next day, he is approached by one J. Frothingham Waterbury (Russell Hicks), who offers to sell Egbert shares in the Beefsteak Mines. Souse raises the necessary money by convincing bank clerk Og Oggilby (Grady Sutton), the fiance of Egbert's daughter Myrtle (Una Merkel), to "borrow" some funds from the bank; it isn't really embezzling, explains Egbert, because the mine is bound to pay off. Unfortunately, bank examiner J. Pinkerton Snoopington (Franklin Pangborn) comes calling, spelling possible trouble for Souse. Hal Erickson
All Movie Guide
Hollywood responded to the exigencies of the Depression with such glorious nonsense as International House. The plot is motivated by a revolutionary television device called the Radioscope, which its Chinese inventor (Edmund Breese) is offering to the highest bidder. All interested parties are obliged to converge at International House, an ultra-modern hotel in the bustling Chinese community of Wu Hu. Among those parties is American envoy Stu Erwin, Russian general Bela Lugosi (a hilarious, pratfalling performance), the general's ex-wife Peggy Hopkins Joyce (a much-married showgirl of the era, who like Zsa Zsa Gabor was famous for being famous), and that celebrated aviator Professor Quail, better known as W.C. Fields. The lunacy begins even before Fields arrives, thanks to the antics of the hotel's doctor George Burns and nurse Gracie Allen. When Erwin comes down with the measles (he is always struck down by a childhood disease whenever he's about to marry his fiancee Sari Maritza), the hotel is quarantined. The guests make the most of their enforced stay by watching the many variety acts broadcast over the radioscope device: Rudy Vallee, singing a love song to his megaphone; Baby Rose Marie (the same), belying her 11 years by belting forth a hotcha jazz number; radio humorists Stoopnagle and Budd, showing off their own goofy inventions; and Cab Calloway, singing a paean to marijuana titled "Reefer Man" (only in recent years has this peppy number been seen with any regularity on television). There's also an elaborate production number on the dance floor of the hotel, featuring Sterling Holloway and a bevy of beauties dressed as cups and saucers. Once Fields drops in via his art-deco autogyro, the film is firmly in his pudgy hands. Erwin outbids the others for the radioscope, while Fields escapes in his aircraft with Peggy Hopkins Joyce in tow (she keeps insisting that she's sitting on something, whereupon Fields replies "I lost mine in the stock market"). A truly unique filmgoing experience, International House is a must-see for any aficionado of 1930s musical comedies. PS: The film's now-famous "outtake," showing Fields calmly advising the cast and crew not to panic while the set is rocked by a California earthquake, was actually staged several days after the genuine quake. Hal Erickson
All Movie Guide
W.C. Fields is in fine fettle as small-town grocer Harold Bissonette (pronounced Biss-o-NAY). Harold dreams of becoming a California orange farmer, but his gorgon wife (Kathleen Howard) will have none of it. After a grueling day at the store, during which his electric light stock is destroyed by a cane-wielding blind man (Charles Sellon), and his floor is flooded with molasses by the impish Baby LeRoy, Harold announces that he's sold the store and bought an orange grove. Seeking to escape his wife's nagging, Harold tries to sleep on his porch, which proves impossible thanks to innumerable interruptions--not least of which is an insurance salesman (T. Roy Barnes) loudly asking for Karl LaFong ("capital L, small A, capital F, small O, small N, small G!") The next day, Harold packs his family into the car and heads off for California. Once there, the little band of pilgrims drives onto the property of a wealthy man, assuming that it's a public park. They make a shambles of the grounds while trying to have a picnic, whereupon they are chased off the land by the scowling owner (Guy Usher). Finally, Harold arrives at his "vast" orange grove--consisting of a tumbledown shack and one scrawny tree. Harold sits silently ruminating over his bad luck until his new neighbor informs him that a wealthy land developer wishes to buy Harold's property to build a stadium. "Don't let them bluff you," advises the neighbor. "You can get any price." The potential buyer turns out to be the same fellow whose property had been invaded by Bissonette the day before, but business is business. The buyer offers several insulting sums, but Harold, fortified by a flask of gin, holds firm. "You're drunk!" the buyer shouts. "And you're crazy," responds Harold. "But tomorrow I'll be sober, and you'll always be crazy." Harold's stubbornness saves the day, and we fade on the satisfying sight of the Bissonette family living in luxury on the huge orange grove of Harold's dreams. A remake of Fields' silent It's the Old Army Game, It's a Gift was written by J.P. McEvoy and one Charles Bogle--and there isn't a Fields fancier alive who doesn't know who Charles Bogle really is. Downplayed by detractors as being merely three two-reelers strung together, It's a Gift has survived such piddling criticism to emerge as one of W.C. Fields' funniest efforts, as well as a comedy classic by any standards. Hal Erickson
All Movie Guide
The once-in-a-lifetime teaming of Mae West and W.C. Fields in My Little Chickadee had the potential for comic greatness: what emerged, though generally entertaining, was, in the words of critic Andrew Sarris, "more funny strange than funny ha-ha." Mae West dominates the film's first reel as Flowerbelle Lee, a self-reliant woman who is abducted by a mysterious masked bandit during a stagecoach holdup. Because she refuses to tell anyone what happened during her nocturnal rendezvous with the bandit, Flowerbelle is invited to leave her prudish hometown and move to Greasewood City. En route by train, Flowerbelle makes the acquaintance of con-artist Cuthbert J. Twillie (W.C. Fields), who carries a suitcase full of what seems to be large-denomination monetary notes. After a lively clash with marauding Indians, Flowerbelle tricks Twillie into a phony marriage; she does this so that she can arrive in Greasewood City with a modicum of respectability, and incidentally to get her hands on Twillie's bankroll. Once she discovers that Twillie's "fortune" consists of nothing but phony oil-well coupons, Flowerbelle refuses to allow Twillie into the bridal chamber (he unwittingly crawls into the marriage bed with a goat, muttering "Darling, have you changed your perfume?") Through a fluke, the cowardly Twillie is appointed sheriff of Greasewood City by town boss Joseph Calleila. The plot is put on hold for two reels while La West does a "schoolroom" routine with a class full of markedly overage students, and while Fields performs a bartender bit wherein he explains how he once knocked down the notorious Chicago Mollie. Jealous over the attentions paid to his "wife" by Calleila and honest newspaper-editor Dick Foran, Twillie decides to gain entry into his wife's boudoir by posing as the still-at-large masked bandit. His ruse is soon discovered by Flowerbelle, but the townsfolk capture Twillie as he makes his escape. They are about to lynch the hapless Twillie when Flowerbelle discovers that Calleia is the genuine masked bandit. She urges Calleia to save Twillie's life by making a surprise appearance at the lynching and by returning the money he's stolen. When all plot lines are ironed out, Flowerbelle and Twillie bid goodbye to one another. Borrowing a device utilized by ZaSu Pitts and Hugh Herbert in 1939's The Lady's From Kentucky, W.C. Fields invites Mae West to "come up and see me sometime," whereupon West appropriates Fields' tagline and calls him "My Little Chickadee." The script for this uneven comedy western was credited to Mae West and W.C. Fields, though in fact West was responsible for most of it. Fields willingly conceded this, noting that West had captured his character better than any other writer he'd ever met. Despite this seeming gallantry, it was no secret that West and Fields disliked each other intensely, a fact that had an injurious effect on their scenes together. My Little Chickadee has assumed legendary status thanks to its stars, and it certainly does deliver the laughs when necessary: still, it is hardly the best-ever vehicle for either Fields or West, two uniquely individual performers who should never have been required to duke it out for the same spotlight. Hal Erickson
All Movie Guide
In his starring film for Universal Pictures, W.C. Fields plays circus manager and all-around flim flam man Larson E. Whipsnade. When he's not trying to fleece the customers or elude the sheriff, Whipsnade busys himself trying to break up the romance between his daughter Vicky (Constance Moore) and carnival ventriloquist Edgar Bergen (playing himself). He also carries on a running feud with Bergen's nattily attired dummy Charlie McCarthy ("I'll slash you into venetian blinds!"). Bergen's other dummy is Mortimer Snerd, who occasionally comments upon the action in his own thickheaded fashion. Anxious to arrange a marriage between Vicki and the wealthy Roger Bel-Goodie III (James Bush), Whipsnade disposes of Bergen and his dummies by sending them aloft in a hot-air baloon. Attending a party at the Bel-Goodie mansion, Whipsnade makes a pest of himself by constantly referring to snakes, a subject that invariably causes Mrs. Bel-Goodie (Mary Forbes) to swoon. He also engages in a zany ping-pong tournament with socialite Ronnie (Ivan Lebedeff). But it is Vicki, and not Whipsnade, who breaks up the engagement by telling off her pompous fiance. At that very instant, Bergen, having escaped from the balloon, arrives to claim Vicki and to help Whipsnade escape the sheriff once more. A partial remake of the W.C. Fields silent Two Flaming Youths, You Can't Cheat an Honest Man was scripted by Fields under the pseudonym "Charles Bogle." As published in the 1973 compendium W.C. Fields by Himself, the original screenplay was to have had dramatic overtones, including the death of Fields' trapeze-artist wife and a climactic soul-baring scene wherein Fields expresses his genuine love for his daughter. All this was jettisoned when it was decided to capitalize on the Fields-Charlie McCarthy "feud" then blazing on radio's Chase and Sanborn Show. While nowhere near as funny as Fields' subsequent Universal feature The Bank Dick, You Can't Cheat an Honest Man still contains a generous supply of laughs. Our favorite line: "Somebody's taken the cork out of my lunch." Hal Erickson
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