“W.C. Fields: Six Short Films,” A Review
Writer: W.C. Fields
Starring: W.C. Fields
“Pool Sharks” (Silent, 1915)
Director: Edwin Middleton
With: Marian West, Larry Westford, Bud Ross
Running Time: 11 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Paws Up
Despite the brief run time, “Pool Sharks” feels fresher and funnier than most modern comedy films. The plot is simple: Fields and Larry Westford play two bumbling suitors fighting over a girl during a picnic. As their conflict escalates, mayhem ensues, and the picnic is ruined. A well-meaning group of men convince the two suitors to settle their differences over a game of pool, with disastrous results.
Partially based on one of Fields’ vaudeville routines, the gags here are executed smoothly and with brilliant timing. Fields and Westford play off each other well. Their performances are energetic and have a magnificent quality of spontaneity that belies the high level of choreography that most likely went into developing and rehearsing their interplay. But what really gives the film its charm is the fact that they seem to have kept their routines a secret until the camera was rolling. This being a silent film, the acting is typically declarative and exaggerated. Yet, when gags hit their mark and Fields and Westford suffer the brunt of their careless actions, the supporting players evince genuine surprise and amusement. For instance, a childish fight over who gets to sit next to the girl (Marian West) on a hammock causes the hammock to collapse, taking both men with it. West’s already natural and charismatic performance is elevated even more by her hearty, unforced laughter at seeing Fields and Westford fall. This is one of many moments that gives an improvisatory feeling to the film, helping it transcend the narrow filming conventions of the day. The framing may be static, Fields’ fake mustache cringeworthy and the special effects rudimentary, but the creative slapstick and a cohesive, engaged ensemble make “Pool Sharks” a dynamic and hilarious romp. As Fields’ first film, “Pool Sharks” is one of the most memorable of his oeuvre because it does more with less. A marvelous gem.
“The Golf Specialist” (1930)
Director: Monte Brice
With: Shirley Grey, Allen Wood, Johnny Kane, Jack Irvin, John Dunsmuir, Naomi Casey
Running Time: 20 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Hairballs
Besides being Fields’ first talking picture, “The Golf Specialist” is notable for feeling far longer than its twenty-minute run time. Terrible acting, stilted dialogue, amateurish production values, pacing so slow that it feels like the film was made in a funeral home, the lack of a skilled vaudevillian for Fields to trade his energy with and the return of that annoying fake mustache make this short an unbearable chore to watch.
The film is partly based on a sketch called “An Episode on the Links” that Fields presented in the Ziegfeld Follies in 1918 and its poor staging makes it clear that Fields and his production team did not know how to manage the transition from stage to screen. “The Golf Specialist” opens in the lobby of a hotel in Florida where Fields’ character, a small-time criminal named J. Effingham Bellweather, has taken refuge. The hotel clerk and various guests react as a flirtatious blonde practically pins down a man to get him to notice her, then nonchalantly goes through the motions of feigning shock when her husband, the house detective, wrestles the man into a contorted pose and throws him out the door. As the house detective’s wife, Shirley Grey practically screams her dialogue as if she were belting out her lines in a large auditorium. The other adult actors don’t scream quite as much, but they do project so loudly one wonders if the sound person went deaf once production wrapped. The performers carry themselves stiffly. The director Brice has the camera trained solely on the hotel’s entranceway and does not bother to stage other scenes in different sections or at different angles to give the illusion of a 360-degree space. As such, the actors move around the lobby almost in a circular manner around that one specific spot, which makes them look as if they are following strict theatrical blocking on a contained stage. Brice’s manner of staging this initial sequence interferes with the cinematic illusion and lends the film a stagey quality.
Fields’ eventual entrance does absolutely nothing to help. Unlike the rest of the ensemble, he doesn’t shout his lines. However, he never fully invests in them either. Contrary to the enthusiastic, fully committed performance he gave in “Pool Sharks,” Fields acts as if he’s sleepwalking. His presence is meant to anchor the lobby scenes and the rest of the film, but instead he stands stiffly, muttering every line of dialogue in the same sardonic tone and appearing to wait for something to happen. His lackluster line readings make scenes drag. Jokes that are supposed to infuse energy and delight into the proceedings are done with as much mirth as my human shows when she’s doing the laundry. A gag with child actress Naomi Casey falls flat, as Fields can’t seem to muster the same energy he gave to “Pool Sharks” and Casey manages to best Grey in the “Who can scream their lines the loudest?” competition. Without an equally gifted comedian to play off, Fields appears to be doing a one-man show of mediocrity that not even he believes in. By the standards of the period, the visual gags used are far less clever and inspired than those Fields used in his first film. And by today’s standards, they are completely tasteless and embarrassing. For instance, a long, written list of Bellweather’s offenses include “telling the facts of life to an Indian.” Harty har har! (If my eyes had rolled any further into my head, I would now be seeing out my third eyelid for the rest of my life.)
When Grey notices Fields’ presence and flirts with him, we crave the change in timing that this new interaction will create. Surely, the house detective will realize his wife is coming on to Bellweather and funny hijinks will ensue, right? Wrong.
From the lobby sequence, the film transitions to a scene on the golf course where Bellweather attempts to impress the house detective’s wife with his superior golf skills, only to be frustrated by an incompetent caddy and other complications. Frustratingly, instead of doing a location shoot at an actual golf course, Brice opts for fake greenery and a painted backdrop. He apparently thinks very little of the audience’s intelligence, as a B-roll transition of actual windy Florida coastline done between scenes is supposed to make up for this lack of technical effort. Spoiler alert: It does not. This poor choice of mise en scéne mires the film even further in stage constructs, never allowing “The Golf Specialist” to exist independently of the vaudeville sketch that inspired it. The potential of Grey’s and Fields’ interaction is wasted as she spends the rest of the film standing awkwardly to the side and passively reacting to his golf gags. As Fields mutters lifelessly, his golf jokes are set up limply and executed dully. Even his outraged reactions to his ineffective caddy (Allen Wood) are conveyed listlessly. As the caddy, Wood brings little to the proceedings beyond being another warm body standing next to Fields as he continuously grumbles from the side of his mouth and makes random, unfunny improvisations. When law enforcement finally catches up to Bellweather and escorts him from the golf course, it feels as if the audience has finally been released from their purgatory.
“The Dentist” (1932)
Director: Leslie Pearce
With: Babe Kane, Arnold Gray, Dorothy Granger, Elise Cavanna, Zedna Farley
Running Time: 22 Minutes
Puma Rating: One Hairball
Another short based on a Fields vaudeville sketch, “The Dentist” is a little better than “The Golf Specialist” but is still not compelling to watch. Fields plays a crotchety dentist who lives with a daughter (Babe Kane) he treats like a wife, loves golf, hates his job and delights in tormenting patients and caddies. Once again, Fields’ acting is horrible. He does a little less muttering this time around but relies more on yelling than infusing his lines with any energy or variety.
Overall, the staging is much better here. The set design is more dynamic, using various rooms and lending to each sequence a specific space in which to show the frustrating uneventfulness of the dentist’s and his daughter’s lives in a humdrum house that also functions as his office. The kitchen, the dentist’s office, the living room – all sets are decorated with detail to draw the viewer into the dentist’s everyday existence. And an extended golf sequence where Fields throws a caddy into the water is shot on location at what appears to be an actual golf course! As such, this film manages to escape the staged conventions that ensnared “The Golf Specialist.”
Unfortunately, most of the humor falls flat due to a problem with pacing. Again, Fields’ lack of energy makes everything drag. A pre-Code gag where he has so much trouble extracting the tooth of a female patient (Elise Cavanna) that she winds up thrust out of her seat, with her legs wrapped around his waist, is performed mechanically at a snail’s pace. Neither Fields nor Cavanna brings any kind of humanity to their work. Presumably, having one’s tooth pulled out so hard that you inadvertently dry hump your dentist would be painful, particularly as no sedative was administered beforehand. Yet, Cavanna makes no sound during this sequence. And Fields does not convey, either by verbal exclamations or signs of physical difficulty, how hard this extraction is for his character. The blocking is performed but not fully invested in. Each patient Fields has makes different choices, but he never varies his reaction from one to another. Instead, he simply recycles the same attitude for every interaction.
One bright spot is the dentist’s relationship with his daughter. In Fields’ sequences with Kane, he manages to inject some energy and humor into his performance. For example, a rat-a-tat dialogue in the first scene works because both actors bounce off each other’s energy as if they were players in a tennis match:
“Where’s my glasses?” Fields roars.
“On your head,” Kane responds in like manner.
“Where’s the newspaper?” Fields demands.
“You’re sitting on it,” Kane answers.
If only the rest of the film had the verve of that initial dialogue. If only Fields had bothered to immerse himself in the rest of his performance as he did in that first exchange with Kane.
Another problem with “The Dentist” is that for most of the film, no character moves in pursuit of a goal. We sit and watch this dentist abuse his patients and practically anyone else who crosses his path just for the sake of it. It is only when the dentist tries to prevent his daughter from seeing the ice deliveryman that she loves that anything interesting happens. Without more purposeful action, most of the film simply meanders from one sequence to the next, Fields shouting and muttering along with it. It’s not unwatchable, but only the most fervent Fields fans will consider this something worth their time.
“The Fatal Glass of Beer” (1933)
Director: Clyde Bruckman
With: Rosemary Theby, George Chandler, Rychard Cramer
Running Time: 19 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Hairballs
Based on a 1928 stage sketch by Fields called “Stolen Bonds,” “The Fatal Glass of Beer” is a parody of northern melodramas about worried families and prodigal sons. Fields plays Pa Snavely, a Yukon prospector whose son Chester was imprisoned for stealing bonds after getting drunk at a bar in the city. The highlight of the film is when Fields sings the story of his son’s tragic fate to a police officer friend, his lyrics recreated in a sequence of scenes staged in the style of a silent feature to showcase Chester’s unfortunate choices. Unfortunately, that is where the creativity ends. The off-key effect that Fields creates when he changes notes to clash with the zither accompanying him is less amusing than grating.
Once again, Fields gives an unenergetic performance. Only this time he forgets to enunciate many of his lines, which renders much of Pa Snavely’s dialogue incomprehensible. The acting from the rest of the ensemble is passable given the fact that they are spoofing the overly dramatic performances in the northern melodramas that were so popular at the time.
The staging is not bad, but there are certain elements where it is horribly amateurish. For example, Chester returns to his family wearing a summer suit and a boater hat in the middle of a raging blizzard. Another sequence has Fields shouting at a herd of elk. The elk are part of a pre-recorded film that is being broadcast on a cloth backdrop. If that film and Fields had been blended properly, it could have been a decent special effect. However, the elk are at least twenty feet taller than Fields. The sequence does not work, and one wonders why it was included at all.
Secondly, the humor lacks any kind of creativity. The first time Fields opens a door and gets snow blown in his face is mildly funny. Multiple times thereafter – not so much.
The twist ending is cute, but is not enough to redeem this tedious, steaming pile of cat litter.
“The Pharmacist” (1933)
Director: Arthur Ripley
With: Babe Kane, Elise Cavanna, Grady Sutton, Lorena Carr
Running Time: 20 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Paws Up
Unlike its predecessors, this short is not derived from any of Fields’ vaudeville sketches. One gets the impression that once he wrote a story that was free of any previous stage incarnation, Fields and his production team really let loose. The use of more camera angles and tracking movement dispels with the stagey quality that hampered Fields’ previous talking shorts. The set design is meticulously detailed and creative.
Again, Fields’ performance is the central focus, but the rest of the ensemble is permitted to shine in a way that hasn’t been seen since “Pool Sharks.” He excels in scenes with returning performers Kane and Cavanna, who now play his canary-devouring younger daughter (she’s my favorite character) and his long-suffering wife, respectively. All three play easily off each other; nothing is forced. Fields’ sarcastic, mumbling persona actually works here, particularly in a scene where he must endure the indignity of eating lunch while hearing his older daughter have an adoring phone call with her boyfriend. The cast of characters that he’s presented with, from batty old ladies to Checkers players, to a curmudgeon who wants change for $100 when buying a single stamp, to federal agents sniffing out prohibition violations, make viable targets for Fields’ misanthropic shtick and he plays these interactions with a relaxed, infectious joy. It also helps that Fields’ acting is less one-note. His frequent irritation with the rest of humanity is tempered by flashes of humor, warmth, and grace. Consequently, his sardonic mumblings become funny asides that include rather than repel the viewer.
Fields also seems more willing to share the stage this time around and let other performers have their moments apart from simply reacting to him. Cavanna, in particular, has a hilarious moment when she must leave her daughters to their lunch, change into a fancy dress and jewelry and rush downstairs to deal with the old ladies who have declined to speak to her husband out of preference for dealing with a female employee – all so they can ask her where the bathroom is. Cavanna’s controlled outrage is one of the best reactions I’ve seen.
The humor also displays a freshness not seen since “Pool Sharks.” One memorable moment involving Fields carrying on a phone conversation during a shootout had me in stitches. Overall, this is Fields’ best work since his silent debut.
“The Barber Shop” (1933)
Director: Arthur Ripley
With: Elise Cavanna, Harry Watson, Dagmar Oakland, John St. Clair, Cyril Ring
Running Time: 22 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Paws Up
“The Barber Shop” essentially recycles all the elements from “The Pharmacist” that worked. Once again, we have Fields playing a genial family man and put-upon working-class mensch. The same location setup of a one-room family home over a business is used, only this time there are more exterior shots. As returning director, Arthur Ripley utilizes the same mobile camera style, to excellent effect. Cavanna returns once more as Fields’ wife and her character this time is a little more jealous and authoritarian. While their interaction is briefer here, it still carries a clever zing. At one point, Cavanna demands, “I need clothes. Give me some money.” Without missing a beat, Fields replies, “Got change for a dollar?”
As Fields’ character Cornelius O’Hare is both the town barber and a pillar of the community, we are treated to more ensemble players with whom he interacts with gently befuddled amusement. There’s also an armed robbery storyline, much like in “The Pharmacist.” Even a gag involving a ball being thrown out the window that was previously shown in “Pool Sharks” is reproduced here with greater technical efficiency.
But new gags and story angles make the humor even fresher and funnier. An extended physical comedy sequence between Fields and a baby in a carriage is highly amusing. Other hilarious highlights revolve around other people suffering due to Fields’ negligence, as when he’s so distracted by the sight of a woman’s legs that he ruins a man’s shave or when a weight loss machine is left unattended to extremely funny effect. Fields seems to have mostly abandoned his misanthropic persona here, as his interaction with children and a flirtatious blonde to whom he exaggerates his past experiences prove very enjoyable to watch. Other jokes involving vegetarianism and a standing bass fall flat, but that does not diminish the overall excellently engaging mix of the classic and the new that is “The Barber Shop.” Together with “Pool Sharks” and “The Pharmacist” it is highly recommended.
