Scandales romains

What needs to be understood about this entertainment film is that it is a revue. The 'hook" for its use of the time-travel gimmick, forward or in this case backward, which it helped to inspire for years to come is a parallel drawn by the authors between a corrupt West Rome, Oklahoma and the governors of ancient Rome's empire. The bridge between the two is opened in the mind of Eddie, played with verve and charisma by Eddie Cantor. In this the most lavish of his four 1930s musicals, with choreography by Busby Berkeley, Cantor imagines himself back in ancient Rome, where he uncovers corruption similar to his own small town's problems. In this musical comedy enlivened by Berkeley, with story and gags by George S. Kaufman, Nat Perrin and and Robert Emmet Sherwood among others, Eddie first finds bribery going on by a developer who wants to build a new jail, dispossessing many residents in the midst of the great Depression. As a result of his protests, after singing a song, Eddie is thrown out of town by police. He then finds himself inexplicably in ancient Rome, and after insulting the Empress, he is condemned to be sold as a slave. Narrowly escaping the clutches of an amorous hag, he is bought by Josephus, handsome David Manners, who wants him as a friend, not a slave. Meanwhile, the Emperor Valerius's favorite, played by Ruth Etting, is being sold away. This leads to the magnificent "No More Love" number involving naked girls covered only by long tresses chained to huge pillars and a Berkeley dance number involving a symbolic slave-girl dancer who plunges from the top of a huge staircase at the end of the number. Meanwhile, the story continues. The four strands involved are Josephus's love for a Princess (Gloria Stuart), Eddie falling afoul of Roman mores, the Empress Agrippina, Verree Teasdale, trying to poison her philandering husband, played with award-level gusto by Edward Arnold, and Valerius pursuing Sylvia (Stuart). Josephus has renamed Eddie "Oedipus"; an hilarious sequence involves "lava gas" being administered to Eddie, then to the royal torturers and finally the Emperor. The Emperor wants Olga back, but still has time to pursue Sylvia. Josephus tries to free both Eddie and Sylvia when the Emperor takes them but is rebuffed. Sylvia agrees to be taken to the palace--to remain there until she falls in love with Valerius-- if he will leave her people unpunished. Then the imperial food taster dies--Agrippina's work, of course; and Eddie gets the job. By this time he has introduced several U.S. vices including crooked dice into ancient Rome. Agrippina summons Eddie to her couch and tells him she wants to poison Valerius. As a precaution, Valerius banishes his rival Josephus who decides to wait for Sylvia, to be spirited away to him, in his chariot. After some tribulations with the palace's majordomo, Alan Mowbray, Eddie gets the message he's been given to Sylvia. After another song in the women's quarters, Eddie finds out about corruption involving Valerius and two senators--a parallel to the West Rome chicanery. Agrippina then warns Eddie not to eat the night's dinner, which he feeds to the royal crocodile. The Empress puts the blame for the animal's demise onto Josephus and Sylvia; Josephus takes Sylvia away in his chariot, and after being condemned to be thrown to the lions himself, Eddie escapes and tries to catch them, to prevent Josephus's being killed at the port of Ostia. After a memorably and funny chariot chase, Cantor wakes up in the U.S. again; and there is a bribe to the police chief as evidence of the wrongdoing he had claimed in his pocket. The satire ends happily, but not without having raised disturbing parallels between republicans' poisoning of the federal reserve and US corruption and the statism of Rome's authoritarian emperors. The piece is a satire from beginning to end, with elements of comedy, drama, parody and song. it is a difficult sort of film to do well, I assert; and to expect this to be any one sort of offering is to fail to comprehend its purpose. This is a thinking-man's light-entertainment, nothing more and a great deal more than less. Girls in revealing costumes, an escapist look at Roman parallels, some delightful actors, a few songs and several spectacular sequences; this was entertainment in the 1930s and for those willing to enjoy it on its own terms, as pure fun, it still is. Every time-travel comedy made since "A Connecticut Yankee" of 1931 and this film owes a great deal to the inspiration of both, but especially I suggest to "Roman Scandals". Frank Tuttle directed this fast-paced and sumptuous romp. The cinematography was by Ray June and Gregg Toland, with costumes by John W. Harkrider, and difficult art direction was provided by Richard Day. Alfred Newman did the music, Harry Warren the original songs. In the cast, Arnold and Teasdale are wonderful, the young leads are attractive throughout and Alan Mowbray delightful in a comedic turns. There are several important actors in small parts including Jane Darwell, Lucille Ball and Billy Barty. With an updated score, I suggest this seminal musical could be successfully remade; but the hard part would be to remove the Eddie Cantor contribution, which was as much a pattern for future comedic talents such as Lou Costello and Jerry Lewis as it was intrinsic to the fun of the production. This Samuel Goldwyn opus may be a trifle pretentious here and there, but not one moment of it I suggest is ever dull.

I recently "discovered" the hilarity that is Eddie Cantor and am taking every opportunity to see him in action. This is a nice little film that seems to have it all: music, comedy (both physical and verbal), a good cast, and a cohesive storyline. The effort that the filmmakers put into some of the smaller touches, like SPQR stamped on everything from the auctioneer's amulet to the metal plate "Oedipus" uses to cover his rear end in fear that his new master will want to beat him, are particularly impressive, because one wonders how many viewers would have noticed them in the first place. (I definitely wouldn't have, except I've done a lot of walking in Rome and I've seen SPQR on hundreds of manhole covers.)

The songs are catchy, particularly "Build A Little Home" which I was still humming two days later. The blackface number, a Cantor trademark, will hopefully be taken as a product of its time and not as a deliberate affront… so far, I think all his pictures except one that I've seen have had this element. Unfortunately, it does make it a little hard to share the film with others whose levels of tolerance for that kind of thing might differ. I can't say as I enjoy it, but I'm not willing to throw the baby out with the bathwater either... Cantor is a very talented comedian/song & dance man, and I enjoy the vast majority of what I've seen of his work.

For fans on the lookout for a very young Lucille Ball, here's a tip: don't look for her, LISTEN for her. I'm all but 100% sure I heard her distinctive voice at least once in the beginning sequence out in the street of modern-day West Rome, and again at the end after the dream sequence. I'm sure she was also one of the glamour girls in Ancient Rome as well, but I can't figure out which one.

All in all, an enjoyable movie. I'll definitely be looking for more from Cantor.

ROMAN SCANDALS (Samuel Goldwyn, 1933), directed by Frank Tuttle, is the fourth of the annual Eddie Cantor/Samuel Goldwyn musicals of the Depression thirties, and one of their comedic best. Inspired by the recent success to Will Rogers's version to Mark Twain's A CONNECTICUT YANKEE (Fox, 1931), this adaptation relies not on classic literature, but on its own original screenplay and comic supplements, compliments of George S. Kaufman and Robert E. Sherwood.

In the basic storyline, Eddie Cantor stars as Eddie (no last name given), a good natured character of West Rome, Oklahoma, liked by so many. When Warren Finley Cooper (Willard Robertson), a corrupt politician, evicts a group of citizens from their homes in favor of building a jail, Eddie talks out of turn is forced to leave town. After being escorted across the border, Eddie, who happens to be an enthusiast about ancient Roman history, falls asleep on the side of the road and dreams himself back to the real Rome. While in ancient Rome, he encounters corrupt politicians headed the evil Emperor Valerius (Edward Arnold), and finds himself sold as a slave to Josephus (David Manners), who turns out he's rather have Eddie as a friend than a slave. On the romantic side, Josephus falls in love with the beautiful Princess Sylvia (Gloria Stuart), who becomes prisoner to the Emperor Valerius. Valerius has a wife, Agrippa (Verree Teasdale), who pleasures herself into poisoning her husband's food in hope to someday become a Merry Widow, but the Emperor is ahead of the game by hiring taste testers who drop dead after eating an unhealthy meal. Eddie is later hired for the job, but it would be more worthy for him to go on a starvation diet instead. After about an hour or so of ancient Roman dreams, the story reaches its climax with a hilarious chariot chase sequence.

Also seen in Eddie's dream is legendary torch singer Ruth Etting as Olga. In spite of Etting's name billed second in the opening credits,her performance is on a limited scale, highlighted mostly by a song rendition at an auction gallery of slave girls. Aside from Dorothy's Technicolored dream in THE WIZARD OF OZ (MGM, 1939), Eddie's dream not only remains in black and white, but becomes a lavish scale spectacle with high comedy score composed by Harry Warren and Al Dubin (on loan from Warner Brothers), featuring: "Build a Little Home" (the score that opens and closes the movie/ as sung by Eddie Cantor); "No More Love" (sung by Ruth Etting, danced by The Goldwyn Girls, solo dance by Grace Poggi); "Keep Young and Beautiful," "Put a Tax on Love" and a reprise of "Build a Little Home" (all sung by Cantor).

With a large cast, only a few are noted in the opening credits. Aside from Alan Mowbray and Lee Kohlmar as the surviving names on the list, the ones receiving no screen credit are Jane Darwell as the beauty saloon manager in Ancient Rome; Charles C. Wilson as a police chief in modern Rome; Stanley Fields as the slave auctioneer; with Paul Porcasi and Harry Holman. Look for midget Billy Barty appearing briefly as the shrunken Eddie in one scene. Among the Goldwyn Girls, there are many, but the one of main interest today is Lucille Ball, in her movie debut. She can be spotted several times throughout the story.

While the entire movie plays mostly for laughs, the "No More Love" production number, directed by Busby Berkeley, is actually the only serious moment in the story. For Berkeley's choreography, in this production, they're not up to his usual standards. Only "No More Love" has the Berkeley trademark, facial closeups of dancing slave beauties, though nothing really spectacular, with the exception of the lavish sets and costumes that make this look more like a Cecil B. DeMille epic.

ROMAN SCANDALS at 93 minutes presents Eddie Cantor at his prime, risqué dialog, slapstick comedy, vaudeville-type pratfalls, and a dream sequence only Hollywood could dream up. A forerunner to Zero Mostel's A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM (1966), along with a run-on gag with a plate of poisoned food that echoes the Danny Kaye comedy from THE COURT JESTER (1955).

During the early years of cable television, this, along with other Cantor/Goldwyn collaborations, were featured on the Nostalgia Channel, Turner Network Television (TNT) and last seen on American Movie Classics during the 1993-94 season. Long unseen on any television in recent years, ROMAN SCANDALS has also become one of the few surviving Cantor/Goldwyn musicals of the 1930s to remain available on video cassette.

ROMAN SCANDALS may be of sole interest today mainly for I LOVE LUCY fans to try and spot a very young Lucille Ball as one of the extras, but if not for that, watch it for its broad comedy, which has been imitated many times in later years by future film and TV comics, and may continue to do so as long as ROMAN SCANDALS remains available for viewing and film study. (***)

One of the underlying themes is slavery —- mostly as satire, but a disturbingly poignant scene at the climax of the slave bazaar number has a girl throwing herself to her death to escape from bondage. This was at a time when Busby Berkeley, the choreographer, was sometimes inserting serious byplay into his numbers (a la "42nd Street"). Boy, is this example a beaut! The Ruth Etting blues solo "No More Love" directly plays on the same theme. Both songs have undercurrents I've never seen suggested in a comedy before or since. These, along with the nutty, racially integrated "Keep Young & Beautiful" routine, add a curiously (yet fascinating) unsavory aspect to the proceedings that is not really easy to characterize.

Oh yeah, what about that lively beer garden drinking song near the beginning and Cantor in black-face! Offensive, absolutely —- but somehow, with Cantor, what's not to love? Politically incorrect? You betcha —- but this is not cruel or demeaning stuff. It's mostly just out-and-out dream-like crazy.

Others have noted the fine production values, and of course the great comic chariot race at the end. Add it all up and what you've got is a nice, unique, big 'ol pastry of a movie musical. If you wanted something to take your mind of things for 93 minutes in 1933, this was just the ticket. If you want something to take your mind off things for 93 minutes in 2007,this is still just the ticket

A kind-hearted young man is thrown out of his corrupt home town of West Rome, Oklahoma. He falls asleep and dreams that he is back in the days of olden Rome, where he gets mixed up with court intrigue and a murder plot against the Emperor.

Based on how few people have rated this film (under 500), I am left with the impression that it must not be purchased, streamed or aired very often. And what a shame, because it is pretty funny, and would be enjoyed by anyone who likes the witty kind of humor the Marx Brothers were doing. (There is even a poison sequence that is not unlike a Danny Kaye skit twenty years later: "The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true!") I suppose the blackface skit may be one reason the film has fallen out of favor, but this is unfortunate. Whether you consider this racist or not, it is part of film history and should not be simply forgotten or hidden.