The Milky Way

In this very solid Harold Lloyd screwball comedy, Lloyd plays an unassuming milk delivery man who finds himself on the front pages when he's credited with knocking out the world middle-weight boxing champion, Speed McFarland, in a street brawl. The negative publicity this news generates for McFarland comes much to the dismay of McFarland's manager, the slick Adolphe Menjou, who instantly plans a damage-control scheme. Lloyd will go up against a number of other boxers and win in fixed fights, building anticipation for a rematch against McFarland, in which McFarland will clobber him in the first round, since Lloyd doesn't really know how to fight. Of course, nothing plays out as simply as it should, and all manner of hijinks and supporting characters find themselves mixed up in this zany plot.

I was impressed by the tight screenplay for "The Milky Way." It's classic 30s screwball, which means the script doesn't have to make a lot of sense, but even so the scriptwriters flesh out little details in the action -- like a thug who can't read, or Lloyd's affection for his milk cart horse, Agnes -- that play a role later in the plot. And the film is filled with all manner of sight gags and one-liners. Some of my favorite set pieces are the ones in which Menjou's sardonic girlfriend, played like a champ by Verree Teasdale, an actress I've never heard of, teaches Lloyd how to box by turning his training into a dance lesson; and a hilarious bit that finds Lloyd racing to his big match with McFarland while lugging around a colt, offspring of the beloved Agnes. Director Leo McCarey knows how to stage physical comedy, and the frame at any given time is stuffed with all manner of characters doing or saying something completely separate from what everybody else is doing or saying, so that the reigning visual style of the film is controlled chaos.

"The Milky Way" may not be in the same league as some of its screwball contemporaries, like "My Man Godfrey" or "Bringing Up Baby," but I guarantee it will put a smile on your face.

Grade: B+

Adolphe Menjou plays up milkman Harold accidentally knocking out the middleweight Champ into a fixed series of fights. And what strikes me is that--unlike poor Buster Keaton, or Charlie Chaplin's Tramp suddenly sounding like an English butler in "The Great Dictator"--Lloyd was perfectly cast in playing the nice likable sound version of his nebbishy Clark-Kent hero, even if he was getting a little too old to play the young twenty-something go-getter of "Safety Last" by this time.

The script was based on a then-hit play, and director Leo McCarey handles the right mix of the play's Front Page-esque late-20's rapid-fire wisecrack snark, and Lloyd's own physical comedy, as a "fighter" with an amazingly developed personal talent for ducking punches. (And, like all Lloyd characters, his embarrassingly ambitious delusions of grandeur once a few fixed fights go to his head.) I may only have a few to judge from, but if you had to see ONE Harold Lloyd talkie out of curiosity to see how the sound era treated him, this is one that will relieve the most worry. He had been making sound films for seven years by now, and although the first one , "Welcome Danger", was just awful, Lloyd improved quickly in the new medium.

This enjoyable Harold Lloyd comedy makes good use of a familiar setup, and it also gives Lloyd a chance to do a lot of the kinds of physical gags that were such a big part of his silent movie classics. Adolphe Menjou and the supporting cast give Lloyd plenty of help, and director Leo McCarey is also right at home with this kind of material.

Lloyd plays a milkman who gets involved with a shady fight promoter, played by Menjou, after a chance encounter with the middleweight champ gives Lloyd's character a reputation as 'the fighting milkman'. The premise is funny, but it calls for some good acting and direction to make it hold up for a full-length feature, and fortunately this movie has both.

Lloyd's ducking and dancing antics bring to mind some of the classic routines in his silent movie triumphs. Besides the boxing scenes, there is a hilarious, classic sequence with Lloyd and Marjorie Gateson practicing the ducking technique together. Menjou is also in his element as the fast-talking promoter, helping even the most implausible material to work smoothly.

The result is a solid comedy that, while a cut below Lloyd's silent classics, has some very good moments and is enjoyable to watch.

Harold Lloyd was a master of the comic sequence. He would put together 40 or 50 rapid-fire gags, each one building on the one before and knock you out of your seat with laughter with each brilliant ten or fifteen or ten minute sequence. The only problem with most of his films is a little weakness in connecting the sequences. Leo McCarey is not a gag craftsman. He just brings on one gag after another and hardly cares if they're connected or make sense. In his masterpiece, the Marx Brother's "Duck Soup," this style passes for zaniness and fits well with the anarchistic persona of the brothers.

In this case, it sabotages Lloyd's genius. Here we have Lloyd's usual lightly connected sequences, but the weakness is compounded by McCarey's disconnection of the gags within a sequence. You can feel Lloyd fighting to connect the set of gags into a sequence and McCarey just moving on to a different set of gags. Only in the last boxing sequence does Lloyd manage to put together 15 or 20 gags for a hilarious sequence, but the five or six minutes here is still much shorter than the great gag sequences in most of his other films. There is also a wonderful sequence between Lloyd and a horse. I suspect if McCarey had allowed Lloyd to expand it for another five minutes, it would have become a classic.

Lloyd gets some serious comic help here from Adolphe Menjou and Lionel Stander. Menjou plays sleazy better than any else. Like the brilliantly scheming lawyer he played in "Roxie Hart," here he plays a brilliantly scheming boxing promoter. Stander plays the body guard/funny tough-guy type he always did so well. Lionel Stander makes every scene he's in interesting. Even when he's in a terrible movie like Roman Polansky's "Cul de Sac," (1966) his acting manages to save scene after scene. There's a little political irony here. Adolphe Menjou was a friendly conservative witness before HUAC in the 1950's, while Lionel Stander was blacklisted for his communist beliefs.

Lloyd also gets help from Menjou's beautiful wife Verree Teasdale. She delivers some sharp wisecracks that she somehow sneaks past the Hay's Office, and Helen Mack as his sweet sister. Both woman are fine, but are hamstrung by the little screen time their characters are given.

This is an interesting movie to compare to Lloyd's last masterpiece, "The Sin of Harold Diddlebock" (Preston Sturges, 1947). There is a short scene of less than one minute with a lion and Lloyd. There is just two or three gags. They're funny, but then the lion disappears from the film. In Diddlebock, Lloyd appears with "Jackie the Lion." This time he uses the lion for about 100 gags in a great classic 30 minute sequence that both sums up and ends his motion picture career.

It is sad to think that "Milky Way" was considered a success at the time of its release, while "Diddlebock" was considered a failure.

I was fortunate enough to catch this at a private screening as I understand there was an attempt to destroy all copies when the remake with Danny Kaye was made. I have seen both and this version is far superior. Harold Lloyd is incredibly funny and his comic timing has to be among the best. If you get a chance, catch this one. 8 out of 10.