You're Telling Me!

As the film opens, it's late at night and we see an inebriated W.C. Fields slowly making his way up the walkway to his front door; as he moves along, he staggers off the path and has an encounter with a tree limb that raises havoc with his straw hat and knocks it off, which gives Fields-- the all-time master of physical comedy-- a field upon which to ply his craft to the fullest. He makes the simple task of refitting chapeau to pate engagingly hilarious. And once he makes it into the house (shoes in hand, of course, but too late!-- the little woman is waiting for him), it's more of the same, beginning with an encounter with some draperies, this time. It's classic Fields schtick, and what a great way to kick off one of his lesser known, but vibrantly funny films, `You're Telling Me,' directed by Erle C. Kenton.

Pauline Bisbee (Joan Marsh) and Bob Murchison (Buster Crabbe) are in love, and want to be married; but there's a snag: The Bisbee house is located on the `wrong' side of the tracks, and the union is meeting strong resistance from Bob's mother, Mrs. Edward Quimby Murchison (Kathleen Howard), who is ever discerning of the Murchison's place in society. And Pauline's father, Sam (Fields), is of little help. An inveterate dreamer, Sam is an inventor, and though he knows it's only a matter of time before the world beats a path to his door, his time, unfortunately, has not yet come, which leaves him in the quagmire of anonymity, and his family still on the wrong side of the tracks.

All of that is about to change, however, because Sam has at last invented something that will assure him fortune and fame: A 1000% puncture-proof automobile tire. He has an appointment in the city with a tire company, and once they see his demonstration, he knows his future will be made, Pauline will be able to marry Bob, and all will be well.

Alas, the demonstration goes awry, and the hapless Sam, dejected, disgraced and alone, boards a train for home. He thinks it's the end; but on the train, he befriends a beautiful young woman, unaware that she is a foreign dignitary, the Princess Lescaboura (Adrienne Ames), currently on a goodwill tour of America. And it turns out to be an auspicious encounter, as Sam's kindness to her is about to be repaid in a way that will change his life forever.

This film is vintage W.C. Fields, featuring all of the trademark elements that make him (and his films) so endearing and enduring, even today: The sight gags, presented in that unique Fields' way; Fields as the underdog; the innate cynicism Fields honed into a veritable art form; Fields as the hen-pecked husband (a role he played often, and perfected in `It's A Gift,' made this same year-- 1934-- with Kathleen Howard as his wife); the witty retorts; and, of course, the genuine humor. In one respect, however, this film differs from most of his others, in that, as Sam, Fields displays a gentler side of his usually caustic nature. The acerbity is present, to be sure, but toned down; and Sam, perhaps more than any character Fields ever created, is genuinely likable.

As Bob Murchison, Buster Crabbe's performance leaves something to be desired, but that charismatic spark that would make him a matinee idol later in the Sci-fi serials `Flash Gordon' and `Buck Rogers,' and later in numerous `Billy the Kid' and `Billy Carson' westerns, is evident, and most importantly, he does well enough to set the stage for the antics of the film's star.

In only her second film, Kathleen Howard is a delight in the role of Mrs. Murchison, who is something of a prototype for many who would come later in other films, such as Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn of Meredith Willson's `The Music Man.' As Bob's domineering mother, she affects an aloofness that strikes just the right chord and makes her the perfect foil for the down-to-earth Sam Bisbee.

The supporting cast includes Louise Carter (Bessie Bisbee), Tammany Young (Caddy), Dell Henderson (Mayor), James B. `Pop' Kenton (Doc Beebe), Robert McKenzie (Charlie Bogle), Nora Cecil (Mrs. Price), George Irving (Mr. Robins) and Frederick Sullivan (Mr. Edward Quimby Murchison). Comparatively short (at 66 minutes), `You're Telling Me' is nevertheless something of a minor classic and pure Fields from start to finish. Thoroughly enjoyable and highly entertaining, It even gives the inimitable W.C. a chance to perform a bit of his famous `golf' routine. A funny, and often downright hilarious film, it's a showcase for one of cinema's premiere funny men, and in the end, more than anything else, one thing is certain: It's going to make you laugh. And that's the magic of the movies. I rate this one 9/10.

This is one of the funniest films I've ever seen. Fields stars as Sam Bisbee a liquor-loving inventor who is trying to sell his puncture-proof (actually bullet-proof) tires to a major corporation. The son of a wealthy socialite proposes to Bisbee's daughter, only to be foiled by his mother when she encounters the uncouth Bisbee. On top of ruining his daughter's potential marriage, Sam also loses his car and several other inventions and mistakenly shoots the tires of a police car. The resolution involves a princess, Bisbee running down mainstreet with an ostrich on a rope, and a classic Fieldsian attempt at hitting a golf ball (which somehow results in a pie getting stuck to his hat.)

Do yourself a favor and see this movie!

In the few W. C. Fields movies that I've seen, he doesn't disappoint. I can now add to that "You're Telling Me!", wherein he plays an optometrist-inventor whose daughter's marriage plans get complicated by her fiance's mother's snobbish attitude. The protagonist's attempt to show his latest invention to some execs further complicates things. More zaniness follows.

It's not any sort of profound movie, and doesn't try to be. It's just funny. Fields, despite his personal problems, always managed to be entertaining. You're sure to like this one.

You're Tellling Me finds W.C. Fields pitted against the world again, the immediate world and the outside world. And Fields fights it with the weapons of his choice, rye or gin. You're Telling Me actually does get a bit serious for a while.

He's Sam Bisbee in this film, ne'er do well optometrist and full time henpecked husband of Louise Carter and father of Joan Marsh. Joan would like to marry Buster Crabbe who's the son of the town's leading snob Kathleen Howard, but it looks hopeless.

Fields's one love besides his family and booze is inventing things. He actually may have something in a puncture proof tire. But in a demonstration where he shoots the tires of a police car it gets him in some trouble.

Here's actually where this Fields comedy takes a serious turn. He's actually contemplating suicide on the way back home on the commuter train, but then seeing a young lady Adrienne Ames in distress and contemplating the same thing, he talks her and ironically himself out of it. She turns out to be his guardian angel in many ways and turns the tide for new friend socially and economically.

This was first the first film Fields did with Kathleen Howard. Someone at Paramount must have seen something because the following year they were teamed as husband and wife in It's A Gift. She became Fields's Margaret Dumont in that one.

You're Telling Me is the film where Bill Fields got do his golf routine which is almost as famous as his pool shark specialty. It comes at the end of the film where a contrite town who just thought of him as the town drunk, now asks him to open their new country club. It's still holds very well today and a source of amusement for duffers everywhere.

In fact the whole film is as amusing as it was when it premiered in 1934. The comedy of W.C. Fields is timeless.

It's not often I'll thank a TV network, but Turner Classic Movies deserves heartfelt praise for broadcasting the entire Fields canon this May & June. YOU'RE TELLING ME! has many, many hilarious setpieces and throwaway bits of business - but you'd expect that from William Claude. What might surprise you is his delicate touch when pathos and tenderness are called for. The scene on the train where a despondent Fields, playing struggling eccentric inventor Sam Bisbee, accidentally meets a travelling Princess and tries to talk her out of 'suicide' (she had no such plans...but HE did, in a moment of despair) nearly brought this cynic to tears. It's not the heavy drama of the scene that affects the viewer so much as Fields' flawless playing of it. Plot contrivance it may be, but the easy, simple grace he brings to his line readings - the small, almost imperceptible shadings of wistfulness and regret in his voice, facial expressions & body language - all give testimony to this brilliant comic actor's mastery of craft, and his ability to draw water from the well of his own loneliness. Don't misunderstand; this is a side-splitting comedy. Much of the comedy is purely visual; all of it is unforgettable. But NEVER short-count WC Fields, or confuse him with an impressionist's caricature. Where other clowns tried their damndest to make you laugh till it hurts, Fields knew his gift was to create a character forever set-upon and assaulted by a blithe, uncaring parade determined to pass him by - a man who hurt till all you can do is laugh. Well, you'll laugh all through this 65-minute model of timing and economy; but watching Fields trampled underfoot again, warily rising to his feet with no higher expectation than a brief, sweet respite before his next inevitable shellacking from the fates and furies, you might just get an idea of why they called him 'The Great Man'. Much obliged, TCM.