Madame Racketeer

Paramount's premier comedic supporting actress of the 1930s gets a star turn as an international con artist. Alison Skipworth (who must have been the template for Patricia Routledge) is perfect as a con woman posing as a world-traveling countess. The Countess has had run-ins with the law for 20 years and is familiar with almost every prison in North America. Suffering from a bit of rheumatism since her last imprisonment and apparently seeking a place to hold up for a while, she journeys back to Wisconsin to stay at the spa hotel run by the husband and daughters she abandoned 20 years before. All along the way, she pulls every trick she knows to keep herself in the chips. Husband Elmer Hicks (always funny Richard Bennett), an eccentric with a fetish for inappropriately placed music boxes (including in the toilet), helps her keep her identity under wraps, and the two daughter have no idea she is their mother. There is a lovely bit of subtlety as the Countess professes no concern for the welfare of her kids but works in the background to turn their fortunes around. She schemes to break off the relationship her younger daughter has formed with a smarmy mug (George Raft in a quietly comedic performance). The Countess also cons an even smarmier mug, the bank president whose greed has not allowed his son to marry the Countess's older daughter. The investigator (J. Farrell MacDonald) who has been arresting the Countess for 20 years just happens to show up at the same spa for his health just in time to get tangled in all the schemes. Everyone is perfectly cast. MacDonald is delightful, and it's somehow amusing to see Raft being constantly manhandled (when not being girl-handled). There is both witty dialogue and slapstick humor. The physical comedy is a great contrast to Skipworth's put-on dignity. She is the definition of an old pro. Skipworth and Raft were also happily cast together soon after in the winning comedies Night After Night and the Midnight Club. They, along with Bennett, also scored high marks in the marvelous If I Had a Million.

Alison Skipworth is a cut up in her own way. She was such a riot in the movie "Night After Night" that I had to see her in another movie.

In "Madame Racketeer" she plays Martha aka Countess von Claudwig, an alias that gave her access to many would-be suckers for her racket. She had the accent, posture, and knowledge to be believable when the fact is she was a criminal. She was such a hopeless criminal she conned the warden the day of her release (LMAO!).

Countess wanted to leave the area, but she needed money to do so. She did a couple of small grifts while on her way to Paradise Springs where she hoped to get the last bit of money she needed. She chose Paradise Springs because that was the location of her husband Elmer Hicks (Richard Bennett).

Elmer was the proprietor of a struggling hotel and spa. He was struggling to cover his own bills, yet Countess demanded $1000 from him so that she could leave town. He didn't have it and Countess was going to stay put until he got it.

Her being at the hotel allowed her to get acquainted with her daughters Patsy (Gertrude Messinger) and Alice (Evalyn Knapp). She never let on that she was their mother and they never suspected it. In her own way she did what little she could to help them and she was clever in doing so.

"Madame Racketeer" is funny and a little touching. All the characters were enjoyable with the exception of Alice, the Countess's younger daughter. She was an example of the small town girl who is easily taken advantage of. It was quite pathetic to watch as the felon Jack Houston (George Raft) told Alice all kinds of lies to get her to sneak off with him. It reinforced that small town girls are gullible in the arms of a charming man when I'd say that city girls are just as gullible. The only difference between the two is that small town girls are usually in small towns to avoid big city perils, so when she's duped it hits harder.

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Alison Skipworth, now best remembered for appearing opposite W. C. Fields -- you do know who Fields was, don't you? -- has a great role in this comedy about a paroled, unregenerate confidence woman who stops at the hotel her abandoned husband runs to shake him down and winds up mothering the daughters she abandoned twenty years before.

Miss Skipworth, whose mien and girth suggest a competitor to MGM's Marie Dressler, is ably assisted in this movie by various silent stars, including Richard Bennet as her husband and J. Farrell Macdonald in a wonderful turn as the light-footed federal officer who has been arresting her for twenty years. Some good acting, some very funny situations and some fairly convincing confidence games makes this an excellent funny movie.

SLIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD. Alison Skipworth is remembered solely for partnering W.C. Fields, and here (in a rare leading role) she plays a distaff version of Fields's confidence trickster. The opening shot shows Skipworth regally presiding at a tea party, then pulls back to reveal that this soiree takes place in a women's prison. (I spotted Elizabeth Patterson among the inmates.) This scene and the last scene of the movie serve as amusing bookends.

Get this premise: Skipworth is an habitual con artist, who has left two infant daughters in the care of her milquetoast husband Elmer. Now, after nearly 20 years, for no particular reason, she decides to go back and see how they're doing. Richard Bennett (grandfather of Morton Downey Jnr) gives a standout performance as her husband. Evalyn Knapp is dull as dishwater in the role of the elder daughter, but Gertrude Messinger is excellent as the Jean Harlowesque kid sister. Irving Bacon, Hollywood's perennial desk clerk, is better than usual in that role here.

There are some impressive slapstick sequences, necessarily featuring a male stunt person doubling for Skipworth. George Raft, as a spiv on the make, is excellent. I could have done without the makeup job on Edward Brady, who seems to be impersonating Andy Clyde in an old Keystone comedy.

The real revelation of this movie, though, is J. Farrell MacDonald as the cop who periodically arrests Skipworth. MacDonald appeared in many films of the '30s and '40s but seldom had much to do. Roles he could have performed admirably often went to Edgar Kennedy (who usually did them justice). Here, in a long sequence, MacDonald sits idly in a chair while a music box tinkles twee melodies nearby. MacDonald's upper body remains motionless while his feet perform a toe dance to the music. It's hilarious and also touching, as we glimpse the inner sensitivity of this gruff cop.

It's a shame that Skipworth got so few chances to play lead roles: she could easily have rivalled Marie Dressler. I can think of several Margaret Dumont roles that would have been better served if Skipworth had been cast in her stead. 'Madame Racketeer' is a delight, including the fast-paced (and well-photographed) climax. This movie rates 9 out of 10.