I am not amused.
Well, it's the end of November and I'm back at Pitt for the last leg of what's been a long and agonizing semester. So before we plunge headlong into our sanity-destroying finals, you, the faithful reader, might as well receive a special treat. And here we deal with that one genre that, our tastes and favorites aside, we all love in some way, shape or form: the comedy genre!
Now, what kind of comedy do I like? This is a question that every cinemagoer or human being has to ask themselves, and I'm afraid I don't have a definite answer. My taste in humor is fairly fluid; I like tart wit and arch wordplay from a Howard Hawks or Aaron Sorkin, but an excess of it, or poorly written excuses for such, tends to grate my nerves (The Lion in Winter and Juno spring instantly to mind). I like bodily function jokes, sex jokes and profanity in certain contexts, but not non-stop parades of shit and semen like American Pie and Harold and Kumar Steal The Public's Money. I like slapstick in the hands of someone like The Three Stooges or John Candy, but I may find the work of Chris Farley and even Charles Laughton annoying as hell. It's all about timing, about context, about presentation, about talent. There's really no way to define comedy, least of all my own taste in it. I laugh at Woody Paige on Around the Horn as readily as I laugh at His Girl Friday, which might implies I'll laugh at anything if done well.
So, what do I find funny? Whatever makes me laugh.
This is restricted to film comedies, as if I were to include TV shows this list would have to be expanded to 500 or so. And although it might make the list under different circumstances, I'm excluding How to Steal a Million because I wrote a full-length review of it not long ago (and Peter O'Toole is already over-represented on this list as it is). So, without further adieu, and add the Silent Night Deadly Night 2's Theatre Douchebag's fanfare for your soundtrack...
Groggy Dundee's Top 10 Comedies of All Time!
Honorable Mentions: The Horse's Mouth, Harvey, And Now For Something Completely Different, Arsenic and Old Lace, Sabrina, The Ladykillers (1955), Blithe Spirit, Meet the Parents (2000), Roman Holiday, The Captain's Paradise, How to Steal a Million
10. Doctor Strangelove, Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb (1964, Stanley Kubrick)
Stanley Kubrick's Doctor Strangelove is one of the best and most timeless satires ever made. It's warnings about nuclear war and the ridiculousness of man's desire for war and one-upsman-ship are as timely as ever, even if our threat is from stateless terrorists rather than a monstrous superpower. Kubrick's bleak, cynical view of humanity serves the material very well; when a discussion of nuclear survival scenario turns into a question of conflict with the other guy, you don't know whether to laugh or wince at the horrific absurdity before you. The quite obvious and pervasive sexual metaphors provide a Freudian subtext (or supertext) to the film, but their primary focus is to highlight the absurdity of what's going on rather than to provide any sort of psychological depth or examination. Kubrick doesn't explain, he merely shows us what is. Given the state of the world - where dirty bombs and suicide bombers have replaced ICBM's and H-Bombs as the terror du jour - and the historical propensity of Mankind to advance for the sake of self-destruction, one can see Kubrick's point.
Peter Sellers' triple performance is oft-praised, and rightfully so as an achievement of acting. RAF officer Mandrake (a parody of Alec Guinness in Bridge on the River Kwai) and the mad title character with the alien hand and absent Nazi mind ("Mein Fuhrer, I can walk!") are entertaining, but Sellers really does a great job in his more understated role as the Adlai Stevenson-esque President Muffley (his phone conversation with the Russianis the definite high point of the film). However blasphemous it may seem, it's fair to say that Sellers is not the greatest performance in the film. That would be George C. Scott, who as Buck Turgidson embodies all of his gung-ho, self-parodying he-man masculinity into a character who would be terrifying if he were not so funny. Scott would only ever approach this performance with his garlanded Patton, where he played a more or less identical character (caricature?). His dark analogue, General Ripper (Sterling Hayden in perhaps his best performance), is simply an extension of his character. Slim Pickens provides a fun role as the gung-ho squadron leader, Keenan Wynn has an amusing cameo as the "prevert"-hating Bat Guano, and James Earl Jones can be briefly spotted as one of Pickens' crewmates.
9. Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996, Jim Mallon)
How could I make a list of things that are funny without including the film adaptation of the greatest television achievement in the history of man? MST3K is a show that you either love or don't get (don't know about hate) - it's an acquired taste, but a taste worth acquiring. Although not all fans are satisfied with the movie (for one thing, it's twenty minutes shorter than an episode of the TV show - God knows why), it's a solid enough entry in the series, and a good introductory primer to those not already familiar with the show. Watching the film is enough of a litmus test on whether or not the show is for you.
For those of us who consider ourselves MSTies, there is nothing funnier than Mike Nelson, Crow T. Robot (Trace Beaulieu) and Tom Servo (Kevin Murphy) sitting back and teeing off with reckless, mean-spirited abandon at a steaming pile of cinematic excrement. A lot of people get enjoyment out of the interstitial material involving the mad Dr. Clayton Forrester (Beaulieu), and his strangely-absent sidekick TV's Frank (Frank Coniff), but for me, the purity of the film mockery has always taken precedence over the sporadically amusing "host segments".
The movie - the not-too-bad Universal sci-fi flick This Island Earth, which features impressive-for-it's-time special effects and a wonderfully hammy Jeff Morrow performance - provides fertile ground for riffing. As often as the film is criticized for "dumbing down" the riffs for a mass audience, one has to wonder: Who gives a fuck if there isn't an extra reference to Bootsy Collins or Sophocles? The stuff onhand is funny enough that anyone, be they a die-hard MSTie or an unlearned groundling, could theoretically find funny. Highlights include the "Science, Industry and Technology!" exchange, and of course the Normal View song. Perhaps the best part is when Mike and the Bots riff over their own credits - "Eastman! He came from the East to do battle with the Amazing Rando!" If you like this kind of thing, you'll have a blast and be quoting it for the rest of your life, whenever you're not actually watching it of course. If not, well, move on.
8. Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987, John Hughes)
This film is a masterful little gem from John Hughes, who found his niche directing such well-regarded teen angst classics as The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink. It takes the usual sitcom approach of taking something from everyday life and exaggerating it out of proportion. Who among us HASN'T experienced a horrendous series of inconveniences? Well, Neal Page (Steve Martin) experiences them all, within one twenty-four hour period. I know this film (along with a certain episode of SpongeBob SquarePants) flashes through my mind everytime I get stranded in Homestead or Squirrel Hill waiting for a bus at midnight that's likely to never come while being harrassed by hoboes and vagrants. It's a feature-length bit of observational humor, and great writing and acting manages to give the one-joke premise far more mileage than it has any right to.
What makes the film work more than anything else are its two leads. Steve Martin plays his usual character - the uptight, snappy, sarcastic and mean guy. He's not really likeable, but in this film his exasperated anger is quite understandable - who wouldn't be a jerk in such a situation? The late John Candy is even better, doing a fabulous job at making a potentially silly role - the obnoxious "talker" and goofy comic relief buddy - memorable, fun and sympathetic. The two leads have fantastic chemistry, making what could have been a run of the mill comedy film something special. Even the bit of mawkish sentimentality at the end is done reasonably well, seeming to come from the characters rather than the contrivance of a Hollywood screenwriter.
The film has a number of classic scenes, including Neal and Dell's eventful night in bed together, Neal's race to get a taxi (with an uncredited Kevin Bacon), Dell's efforts to raise money through selling his shower cap rings, an exasperated Neal's excellent, mean-spirited rant to his unwitting colleague ("The next time you tell one of those stories... Have a point!") and Dell's heartfelt rebuttal. It also contains perhaps the funniest exchange in movie history: after Neal's rental car is stolen, he confronts the overly cheery secretary (Edie McClurg) with a vicious, profanity-laced rant, only to be perfectly shut down by the secretary: "You're FUCKED!"
7. My Favorite Year (1982, Richard Benjamin)
In case you haven't guessed by now, I think Peter O'Toole is an amazing actor, perhaps even the best ever. In My Favorite Year, he gives one of his lightest yet best performances as Alan Swann, the washed up matinee idol who is signed for a fifties' variety show, only for him to be discovered to be a drunken wastrel. O'Toole has fun with the role, playing off his own persona to make the necessary drunken shenanigan scenes work wonderfully. And yet, there's a poignancy and intelligence to his performance that is beyond most films of this type. His relationship with Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker), the struggling young writer who recommended and idolizes him, is the backbone of the film, forcing to Swann to own up to who he is and the distance between his onscreen persona and his real-life personality. This is yet another example of why the Academy needs to get fucked; O'Toole's eight nominations without a win are a crime, and his layered performance is certainly among his best achievements. Still, it's perhaps understandable why he lost to Ben Kingsley's turn in Gandhi...
Many comedy films have a big chaotic set-piece that serves as the pay-off for the build-up, and this film is no exception. The wonderfully chaotic final duel between the TV crew, the cast and a group of gangsters allows Swann to at last live up to his heroic reputation. The script sparkles with wit and originality, the characters are mostly likeable, and there are fun supporting turns, particularly Joseph Bologna as the obnoxious Sid Caesar-esque TV host, and Suspiria star Jessica Harper as the lovely assistant/love interest. It's a lovely bit of filmmaking all around, and comes highly recommended. O'Toole is the centerpiece, but the whole film is worthwhile.
6. Groundhog Day (1993, Harold Ramis)
Whenever the topic of "film everyone loves/nobody hates" comes up on IMDB or elsewhere, this charming little film is almost always near the top of the list. At my house, it has been a staple seasonal viewing for years, and it's one of those movies that never gets old no matter how many times you see it.
The film's plot is pretty straightforward: grumpy TV weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) arrives in Punxsutawney, PA to cover the annual Groundhog Day ceremonies, only to find himself trapped living the same day over and over again. Phil is predictably flummoxed by his predicament, trying to use it to his advantage, then trying to escape from the nightmare through suicide and other means, but ultimately he learns what's truly important in life, and becomes a better person through his experiences.
There isn't much I could say about this film that hasn't already been said. The film is an incredibly charming and witty movie, making the repetitive, mind-numbing horror show of being a societal cog a literal event, and having a great amount of hay off of it. Murray has never been better, utilizing his charming yet cynical persona to the fullest, Andie McDowell is sweet and charming as his producer/love interest, and the talented supporting cast (Chris Elliot, Brian Doyle-Murray, Stephen Toblowsky) contributes fine work on the edges. The ending is sweet, charming and perfect, showing a man who genuinely grows and changes from his experiences. Sometimes a happy, even sappy ending works, and this is one of those times. Plus, you won't be able to get a certain Sonny and Cher tune out of your head for the rest of your life...
5. The Lavender Hill Mob (1950, Charles Crichton)
It would not be a Groggy Dundee list if I didn't have an Ealing Comedy/Alec Guinness film on here somewhere, now would it? The Cinematic Master of Disguise gives one of his best performances in this film, about Henry Holland, a meek London banker who decides to rob a shipment of gold bullion in order to escape the dreariness of office life. The movie embraces the best of the Ealing Studios' attributes: a depiction of a charming fantasy England, a wonderfully eccentric sense of humor (or humour I suppose), and a whimiscally anarchistic nature. The scene where Holland and his cohort (Stanley Holloway) run up the Eiffel Tower at full, dizzying speed is a cheerfully absurd bit of madness rarely surpassed elsewhere. The film lacks the dark nastiness and social satire of such other Ealing offerings as Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Man in the White Suit and The Ladykillers, but in this instance, it's not necessarily a bad thing; sometimes entertainment is preferable to depth, and such a case is this.
Aside from Guinness, Stanley Holloway does a great job in one of the few films that I don't find him aggravating and punch-worthy in. Sid James and Alfie Bass also turn up in small roles as fellow crooks. Cinephiles may have fun spotting a young Audrey Hepburn and Robert Shaw in small roles; Hepburn's brief pre-stardom bit part is to die for.
4. The American President (1995, Rob Reiner)
This film is the second teaming of Rob Reiner and that masterful screenwriting God Aaron Sorkin. After the dynamite courtroom drama A Few Good Men, they instead turn to a much lighter film, with a movie that, though occasionally treacly, mawkish and predictable, hits on all cylinders. A film need not be cynical to be witty, and mean to be insightful or interesting. Early on the term Capra-esque is used in a conversation, and that definitely applies here.
The movie is a sweet romantic comedy dressed up with a smidgen of political intrigue and depth. Handsome, charming and intelligent liberal President Michael Douglas struggles to balance a Presidential re-election campaign, various world crises and a budding romance with environmental activist Annette Benning. Douglas and Benning are a charming couple, and the supporting cast contains fine performances by Martin Sheen, Michael J. Fox and Richard Dreyfuss. But really, as in most of Sorkin's work, it's the witty, rapid-fire script that does the walking (and talking). Although the political issues aren't covered in any real depth, with Sorkin promoting his views as the only answer and Republicans as hideous demonic Gorgons, the average viewer probably won't give a damn considering the whole. In essence, it's a feature-length pilot for Sorkin's later TV series The West Wing - but in my eyes, there isn't a damned thing wrong with that.
3. Young Frankenstein (1973, Mel Brooks)
Movie spoofs have fallen a long, long way from the likes of Airplane and the best of Mel Brooks. Nowadays, when shit like Scary Movie and its innumerable illegitimate satanic seed pose as "parody" films, it's reasonable to conclude that satire is all but dead.
Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein is perhaps the high-point of the spoof genre, and of Brooks' career. Brooks had a hit-and-miss career, with great works like The Producers and this film, and drek like History of the World Part 1 and Dracula: Dead and Loving It, struggling to mix zaniness with observational wit and failing as often as he succeeds. Fortunately, in this particular film he succeeds one hundred percent, creating a perfectly crafted, atmospheric and hysterical piece of work.
Brooks takes on a formidable target - the Universal horror pictures of the 1930's, including King Kong, Dracula, The Wolf Man, and particularly (of course) the Frankenstein movies. He does so by replicating the source material, filming on the same sets and utilizing striking, expressive black-and-white photography that rivals even that of their inspirations. The movie stays remarkably close to the plot of these films, particularly Bride of Frankenstein; the Monster (Peter Boyle) escapes, encounters a cute little girl, is fed by a blind (and in this case clumsy) hermit (Gene Hackman), is imprisoned and chased by a mob. This method of spoofery would be aped time and again by its innumerable illegitimate cousins and offsprings, but never as well; they (and "they" know who they are) don't understand that the point is to put a fun twist on a film, not to merely replay it for the sake of recognition.
Gene Wilder gives a marvellously over-the-top performance as Dr. Frahn-ken-steen, who slowly goes mad and reverts to his grandfather's old tradition of digging up corpses. Peter Boyle is equally funny as the Monster, playing the right notes of childlike innocence and naughty silliness. Perhaps the best performance, however, is Marty Feldman as Igor, the impatient and occasionally mean-spirited helper to Frankenstein who is anything but the subservient imbecile he's usually made out to be ("What hump?"). The movie contains a plethora of fun performances: Madeline Kahn as Wilder's impatient wife, Cloris Leachman as the ominous Frau Blucher (Whiney!), Teri Garr as the ditzy assistant Inga, and Kenneth Marrs' posable police inspector (who owes a great deal to Dr. Strangelove). It's truly a treat, and with set-pieces like Frankenstein's opening lecture, the search for the correct brain ("Abby Normal"), and of course the centerpiece "Putting on the Ritz" routine, it's hard to say how you could go wrong.
2. His Girl Friday (1940, Howard Hawks)
This film is one of the indisputable greats of its genre, and I might argue of film period. It epitomizes the screwball comedy, the rapid with ridiculous situations and much-too-hip and verbose (yet extremely cool) protagonists. Pretty much TV sitcom finds their origin in these films, with snappy dialogue and a crazy situation building beyond control to a climax. Few if any subsequent films or TV shows, however much they copy the formula, have been able to replicate its success.
The movie has a wonderfully zany and convoluted plot, as smooth-talking editor Walter Burns (Cary Grant) tries to convince his reporter/ex-wife Hildy Johnson (Rosalind Russell) to not retire and settle down with nice but dull Bruce (Ralph Bellamy), while a criminal (John Qualen) escapes from jail on the eve of an election. The film takes shots at all sorts of targets throughout, leaving no one immune from the zingers and barbs of Charles Lederer's acid screenplay. Really, no one in the film comes across as overly sympathetic (except, strangely, killer John Qualen and Helen Mack as his "girlfriend" - with poor Ralph Bellamy as the fall guy); the journalists are conniving sharks, the police inept, the politicians greedy and selfish. In such a situation, where everyone is corrupt, mean-spirited, or spineless and emasculated, the only solution is to side with the cool guys.
Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell are a wonderful couple, with an amazing degree of sexual and onscreen chemistry. Grant, an old hand at this genre (Bringing Up Baby, Arsenic and Old Lace) plays his usual character type - the sly, smooth, deceitful charmer - to the hilt, while Russell is an immensely sexy and tough real woman who struggles to keep up with Grant's endless scheming. The entire supporting cast clicks to a fault, and Hawks' direction keeps things moving at an impossibly brisk pace. It's endless fun to see these characters stabbing each other and spouting out rapid-fire dialogue with reckless abandon, and the deliciously ridiculous denouement is all part of the fun.
1. The Ruling Class (1972, Peter Medak)
Finally, after a list made up largely of "safe", "mainstream", "conventional" choices (some of which are no doubt baffling), I pick a film that embodies anarchism and hateful, mean-spirited disdain for politeness and civility. The Ruling Class is a movie that gives a big fat middle finger to pretty much everything in society, from religion to politics to class structure and socialism. It's so crass, mean, over-the-top and unsubtle, that it makes Monty Python's Flying Circus look like a Noel Coward drawing-room comedy. And yet, it's a masterpiece throughout - one of the few films that is able to go the completely nasty route and get away with it, because it's done with such style and skill that one excuses the meanness of the whole enterprise.
The movie is the broadest satire of possible, chronicling the assumption of the schizophrenic Jack Gurney (Peter O'Toole) to an English peerage, and his "treatment" from belief that he is Christ to belief that he's Jack the Ripper. The movie takes a shot at everything imaginable; not one target emerges unscathed. The humor is not subtle; it is painted in the broadest possible strokes, its targets of politics, class and religion not only poked fun at, but demolished. The movie moves from one gag to the next, never stopping for breath. And not only does it move from gag to gag, but also from genre to genre; the satire evolves at times into a musical, a horror film, a swashbuckler and psychological thriller/film noir. Strangely, however, the movie manages to remain the sum of its parts; its rapid changes in tone create a wonderfully delirious atmosphere.
The movie features a plethora of brilliant performances. Peter O'Toole gives an astonishing turn as Jack, encapsulating both of his disparate personalities - in effect, giving two performances for the price of one - and mixing humor and deadpan seriousness whenever the occasion calls for it. Only his performance in Lawrence of Arabia betters his work here, and even then we're talking neck and neck here; and believe me, prior to this film, I would have thought that nigh-impossible. The supporting cast is a corncuopia of great British actors, from Alastair Sim as the befuddled Bishop, to Arthur Lowe's amusing scene-stealing as a Bolshevik Butler, Kay Walsh and Patsy Byrne's hysterical pair of fuddy-duddy ladies, Michael Bryant's sadistic psychiatrist, and Nigel Greene's indescribable cameo as the Electric Christ.
Concededly, The Ruling Class will offend or not interest many of my readers, as many of the other films on the list will. The rest of us can enjoy the wonderfully over-the-top and head-scratching scenes like Jack and Grace (Carolyn Seymour)'s wedding, the confrontation with the Electric Christ (Nigel Greene), the random insertion of musical numbers into the story, and the alternately chilling and hysterical ending phantasmagoria - revealing the House of Lords to be the rotting ghosts that they are.
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