Doppeltes Dynamit

Just watched this on a Netflix disc. It's the only teaming of Frank Sinatra, Jane Russell, and Groucho Marx. It's largely because of the last name that I had in interest in seeing this and I wasn't disappointed as he's as funny as you expect him to be with all those wisecracks that cracks me up the way he does them. Sinatra shows his vocal chops to good effect when he duets with both Marx and Ms. Russell on their numbers. The supporting cast is also good of which one of them, William Edmonds, is one of the players from my favorite movie, It's a Wonderful Life-he played Mr. Martini there. Here, he has a much bigger role of a restaurateur who's Groucho's boss as Groucho is a waiter here. The plot-about an embezzlement-gambling mixup-gets partially confusing but the way it's performed here, at least it wasn't boring, that's for sure! So on that note, I say Double Dynamite is worth a look.

One of the funniest parts of Double Dynamite is when someone describes Frank Sinatra and Jane Russell's characters. Jane is described as being "extremely well distributed," and Frank's description is, "Five feet, ten. Wears elevator shoes. Anemic looking. When last seen, was wearing ill-fitted suit. Well padded at shoulders. Resembles Frank Sinatra." If you're not laughing now, you won't like the movie. If you are, you've got a good shot at liking this tongue-in-cheek, cheesy Christmas comedy.

Frank and Jane are poor sweethearts who work together at a bank and can't afford to get married. They have enough funny wisecracks on their own, but for those who need more sarcasm, Groucho Marx joins the cast as their pun-flinging pal. In a pre-Guys and Dolls movie, Frankie gets sucked into the world of gambling and makes a fortune-at the exact same time the bank gets robbed! No one believes he didn't steal the money, so he has to prove his innocence.

Don't worry, it's not nearly as serious as it sounds. This is a very cute romantic comedy, if you agree from the get-go that you're not going to take anything seriously. Frankie and Groucho sing an entire song against a screen pretending to skip down the street, but not actually anywhere near the street. So, if you like your movies silly and funny, where the biggest problem anyone has is that they've just won a bunch of money, rent Double Dynamite this holiday season.

Frank Sinatra's last role under his contract with RKO was this slight comedy Double Dynamite. It was also the last time he played a milquetoast schnook.

Double Dynamite was started in 1948 but Howard Hughes in his infinite wisdom kept under under wraps for three years, not releasing it until Christmas of 1951. In a backhanded way he may have helped Sinatra because in 1951 the film offers were not coming and at least his name was kept before the public eye.

Hughes could read the trade papers though and the Sinatra who had box office clout in 1948 had little in 1951. Probably Frank was going to be billed below Jane Russell in a Hughes production in any event, but he was third billed below Groucho Marx in this one.

If this had been done at Paramount you would have seen Eddie Bracken and Betty Hutton in the roles Sinatra and Russell have. They're both bank tellers at Howard Freeman's bank, but Freeman's in retirement and it's run by his playboy son Don McGuire and manager Harry Hayden.

Frank and Jane make $42.50 a week, not a princely sum even back in 1951 and poor Frank goes and asks for a raise from Hayden. Personally I thought it was his best moment in the film. The way Hayden just jawbones him out of the raise reminded me of Branch Rickey negotiating salaries with baseball players. Right around the time this film was being made, there was a campaign against Rickey being orchestrated by New York Daily News sports columnist Jimmy Powers. One of the tags Powers hung on Rickey was El Cheapo. Based on the stories that Powers and others told about Rickey beating down every dollar a player might ask for, I have no doubt Rickey was the model for Hayden's character.

Anyway Frank lucks into a windfall when he saves a notorious bookmaker, Nestor Paiva, from a beating being dished out by a rival mob. In gratitude Paiva 'lends' Frankie a thousand dollars and he bets on several 'sure things' with Paiva and he walks away with $60,000.00.

But as Frank returns triumphantly from Paiva's betting parlor, he discovers Hayden making a speech to the staff about someone embezzling a lot of money. Not even Russell believes him. His only ally is their good friend, a waiter at a one arm spaghetti joint, Groucho Marx.

At this point Groucho really takes over the film. He gives Sinatra and Russell all kinds of advice, romantic and financial, about how to deal with this perplexing situation. One of them being put all the money in his name. They do that and Groucho does live it up in grand style.

Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn wrote two of their most forgettable songs. With the release held up for three years, Sinatra never even bothered to record them for Columbia Records where he was at the time. Kisses and Tears is a duet with Jane Russell and there's a comedy patter number, It's Only Money for Groucho and Frank. Sinatra was usually given some great songs by Styne and Cahn in the forties, but they definitely failed him here.

If it wasn't for Groucho Marx, Double Dynamite might very well be several notches lower in my estimation. When he's not on the screen you just wait for him to come back. I have a funny feeling that Groucho stole the film from Jane Russell who Hughes was trying to build up and that that was the reason it was held up for three years.

I marvel that Jane Russell had any career at all considering Howard Hughes's obsession with her two weapons of mass destruction. Double Dynamite is the third film that I know of that he held for years before releasing that starred her, The Outlaw and the noir classic His Kind of Woman were the other two. Good thing she did The Paleface with Bob Hope over at Paramount and out of his reach.

Besides those mentioned look for a nice performance by William Edmunds as Groucho's suffering employer, Mr. Baganucci. And Don McGuire is really quite the wolf in wolf's clothing as he keeps sexually harassing Jane.

It's not a great film, it might have been better had it been in the hands of someone like Preston Sturges at Paramount.

Think about it. Sinatra, Groucho, and Jane Russell starring in a movie written by Harry Crane and with songs by Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn. Sound great. Well, it's not. Sinatra is a bank clerk who is wrongly accused of stealing money from his bank. His singing is great; it's probably never been better. However, instead of the flip Sinatra character of the 1950s, director Cummings asks Sinatra to play a timid young man, a role that never really suited him well. (Think about "The Kissing Bandit"! Compare that to "Meet Danny Wilson", Sinatra's next film where he gets to play that cocky guy!) Groucho is as funny as usual, but the script is contrived, there are too few sight gags, and the direction is slow. We are even cheated on the musical numbers. The two songs, "It's Only Money" (sung by Frank and Groucho) and "Kisses and Tears" (sung by Frank and Jane, accompanied by the jazzy Phil Moore Four) are good, but I wish there were more. Groucho did better with his brothers and Sinatra did better with Nelson Riddle!

This move is set some time in the 1940s, so plug that in and go along for the ride. Sinatra stars as an honest man, eking out a living as a bank teller but not enough for marriage. By chance, he's captured by the underworld and makes a mint. He can marry Jane Russell, something the wisecracking waiter, Groucho Marx, seems to want. But there has been an apparent embezzlement at the bank where Sinatra works, and its discovery is timed exactly with Sinatra's underworld winnings. He did not embezzle the money, but he can't rightly say he did come by it. But Groucho is there to help him, and we all know what that means.

This is a nifty film with a few good twists and its share of laughs.

There is a scene where "Johnny Dalton" is lying in his bed in his apartment and Mibs Goodhue in her bed in hers, separated by wall. Dalton starts to sing.

"You know," I teased to my wife, "that guy sounds a lot like Sinatra." "It is," she deadpanned in reply.

"Looks too young to be Sinatra." Yeah, 't was 1951. If you want to go back for a spell, this one will take you there.