Killer Diller

Hi, Everyone, The best part of this is the dance routine, make that two dance routines by The Clark Brothers. They are gorgeous to watch and they move like boneless puppets on rubber strings. How can they keep smiling when they have to be pooped? Nat Cole is the biggest name here. This was about two years before he became a huge name in the world of show business when he recorded "Mona Lisa." He had a lot of fame already when he appeared here from earlier, but lesser hits like "Sweet Lorraine" and more notably, "The Christmas Song," which eventually would become his biggest seller. He was only 17 years from the end of his career. He would die in 1965.

The songs he sings here are good from a musicianship standpoint, but they suck for the listener. If he had done "Nature Boy" or "Ramblin' Rose" or "Pretend" this movie would have been a real winner. I guess they weren't written yet.

Some of the other musical numbers and comedy entries are just barely acceptable, including "Moms" Mabley, who would become a wonderful comedy actress and act in her later years. It is hard to believe she was past 50 when this was made. Her style was taking shape, but her writing was not there yet.

The twosome that does an impression of The Ink Spots is enjoyable and I would like to have seen them with some great material. Perhaps a script would have helped.

The basic story is OK and it keeps one amused with a Keystone Kops type troupe, but the sets are not quite as grandiose as one might see in Ben Hur or Pee Wee's Big Adventure.

There is a lot to like here. It is wonderful some early footage like this exists to show what vaudeville was and where some of the big names came from.

Nat was more enjoyable in Cat Ballou. I once had the pleasure of watching him perform in person at NBC TV in Hollywood for his TV show. He was great with a live audience. He stayed for about an hour after the show was over to perform for the audience in the theater.

Tom Willett

Killer Diller is one of the hundreds of films Hollywood churned out in the Thirties and Forties with minimal budgets, usually limited skills with the behind-the-camera personnel and with all-black casts. As soon as the pictures were in the can they were sent out to play in the movie equivalent of the old vaudeville chitlin' circuit...movie theaters in the South that played to segregated black audiences and movie theaters in the north that played to almost exclusively black audiences. The movies might have been second rate but the artists seldom were. Hollywood might now be incessantly patting its back about how liberal and open- minded it is toward black actors (we won't get into the situation with Latinos), but a generation ago just about the only opportunity for talented and skilled black entertainers were in these unofficially segregated movies. If we want a better understanding of Hollywood movie-making, we need to see some of these films. For many of the entertainers featured, these films are the only record we have of what they could do. On the one hand, these movies make a sad and discouraging story. On the other, what wonders these artists could perform.

Killer Diller has the slightest of story lines, something about Mortimer Dumdone (George Wiltshire), the impresario of a theater who is presenting a variety show, somehow seeing his fiancé, Lola (Nellie Hill) disappear in a magic trick with a string of expensive pearls around her neck. A fake magician (Dusty "Open the Door, Richard" Fletcher), pretending to be Voodoo Man, is responsible. Dumdone's secretary, Butterfly McQueen, calls in the cops, who turn out to be a quartet of bumbling, falling, sprawling incompetents. Now forget all that. The point of the movie is the variety show, and it's a lot of fun. Basically, the director set up his camera facing the stage and then took a long lunch break. Let's see...there's Andy Kirk and His Orchestra doing some great, driving swing numbers featuring jazz saxophones...vocalist Beverley White, a cross between Pearl Bailey and Ethel Waters, singing...

"I don't want to get married / for when you're single you have so much fun.

I don't want to get married / 'cause two don't live as happily as one.

Now I might want to stay out late some times all the way next day

And I don't want to be worried about what my husband's going' to say."

There's Patterson and Jackson, two large and very round singers, one a first-rate tap dancer, who manage among their other bits to do a wonderful impression of the four Ink Spots...Moms Mabley, that rough-voiced, dry-witted comedienne, serves up laughs and a song...The Clark Brothers, two young men who are all fast taps and smooth moves, never let up in a long tap routine...The King Cole Trio performs three numbers. Nat Cole already is as stylish and distinctive a vocalist as he was a great jazz pianist. There's also a dancing chorus and a blow-'em-away finale that brings the Trio and the Andy Kirk Orchestra together in a big, flashy swing number.

Every now and then we check back to see how the plot line is going.

Dusty Fletcher, the fake magician, is a comic actor with great timing. He also, like so many black comedians way back when, uses all the black exaggerations in the book to get laughs, just as so many Jewish comedians have used all the stereotyped "Jewish" characteristics. It seems that when an ethnic comedian uses stereotypes to get laughs from his or her own ethnic group, it's accepted, even if uneasily at least by those not of the group. But a comedian not of the ethnic group using those same comedy lines and voice inflections just seems odious. It's an uncomfortable and understandable situation. We might make a joke about our Aunt Bertha, but we don't want to hear a joke about her coming from the neighbor down the block. Yet I still felt awkward seeing Fletcher saying and doing the kind of eye- rolling exaggerations that made Amos and Andy popular back then and which seem extraordinarily condescending now. The saving grace, I suppose, is that Fletcher may be playing an unschooled charlatan, but the man's as sly as a fox, as shrewd as a Washington lawyer and a heck of a lot funnier than either Amos or Andy.

Even a z grade DVD from a battered 16mm print full of joins can NOT dampen my enthusiasm for this jaw dropping roster of vaudeville talent captured on film from the front row of The Lincoln Theatre Somewheres-ville 1947. Like Boardinghouse Blues the previous year, this film is basically a camera in the front row capturing an all black talent show...but God Almighty! what astonishing talent! The swing music and the orchestrations will keep this on play for days only to pause and gawp at The Clark Bros..two handsome slick young tappers who almost out-tap the Nicholas Bros in two high speed routines I needed to watch 77 times just to stop applauding in the privacy of my own lounge room. See 25 year old Nat King Cole and his trio and a hilarious Flip Wilson style deadpan comedian called Moms Maberly as a dry witted housewife, droll in the extreme (I almost expected her to exclaim "The Devil made Me Do It!") delivering a hilarious and well timed song called "Don't Sit On My Bed". More talent on show than any MGM musical costing a zillion dollars more, KILLER DILLER lives right up to it's name. There is a story there somewhere about a rascally invisible comedian or is that a magician who keeps disappearing with someone's girlfriend....almost like THE NIGHT THEY RAIDED MINSKY'S but gloriously all Negro and wall to wall talent! a real wow!

The chubby bros sing the song "I Believe" - which i believe ive never heard before, except for my dad singing it around the house. Its just amazing for me when i hear some random bits of music that my dad essentially employed as memes when he spoke, which he did a lot. Use verbal memes, i mean.

Also worth watching to see Moms Mabley as a young woman, altho no too different from her as an older woman. And my own personal new theme song is "Aint nobodys business but my own."

Don't be fooled by the other reviewers. Although this film contains an impressive array of talent, the material they present leaves a great deal to be desired. Nat King Cole's 3 numbers are pretty lame and not even close to his later efforts, though he does impress with his piano playing. 'Moms' Mabley is not a bit funny, though I remember her as a very entertaining talk show guest from my youth. Actually, the best performances are from a couple of fat guys who impress with a lively tap dance and a Four Tops takeoff, and the jazz band itself, especially in the number featuring the bass player. The print itself is pretty poor quality, and the wonderful Butterfly McQueen is totally wasted in the wraparound plot.