Man on the Flying Trapeze

Something's amiss if I'm posting the first and only comment on this important Fields comedy, and I think I know what it is: none of his mid-30s Paramount triumphs are available for viewing! Videotapes of Fields films ca. 1932-6 are seemingly nonexistent, and they're never on television (cah-mon, Turner Classic Movies, look alive here!) End result: many thousands of younger viewers -some of 'em already fans of 30s movies- are being cheated of their comedy birthright. (Of course, his later and equally-funny Universal jobs are readily available - witness the ever-spiraling reputation of THE BANK DICK, for starters.) And you can sing THE BANK DICK's praises morning, noon and night and get nothing but 'amens' from me, but a case can be made for mid-30s Fields-at-Paramount as his best and most fertile period, and TRAPEZE -which came at the end of that run- embodies every virtue inherent in the Great Man's work. When a Fields movie fires on all cylinders, it should almost seem a throwaway: meandering plot, disconnected bits of old vaudeville, sitcom surrealism and Falstaffian braggadocio loosely strung together with a nonchalant mean streak adding the sting in the tail. (Certainly, every fan of FAWLTY TOWERS needs to see this one!) Here, he plays Ambrose Wolfinger, a man as put-upon and abused in his fruitless search for middle-class contentment as BRINGING UP FATHER's Jiggs (complete with his very own harridan Maggie, played here by Kathleen Howard, whose baleful countenance could've cowed Groucho into meek silence!) The plot revolves around Fields' doomed attempts to sneak away from work to see his favorite wrestler, the aforementioned Mr. Mishabob, with neither his boss nor his wife ever being the wiser. That's it; that's the plot, thin enough to be rejected for an episode of LIFE OF RILEY. And as usual with Fields, this ludicrously threadbare conflict is the essence of his art, as we watch this browbeaten fellow struggle to maintain a sense of decorum as everyone and everything in his universe conspires to crush, defeat and deny him this one simple desire, with hilarious results. (Well, I told you about that mean streak, right?) The beauty of Fields and TRAPEZE is that, though he's essentially a small, petty, unlikable prig, everyone AROUND him is a thousand times worse - so horrid and poisonous that he becomes sympathetic and even heroic by comparison (with the exception of the one pearl of sentiment he allowed himself, the loving and understanding daughter who defends him by allowing him to think she needs HIS protection). There aren't very many comedies that deliver such richness of pleasure from such skeletal premises: in fact, most of them were made by Fields. Will someone please revive this gem before the last print falls to dust?

This is one film that most W C Fields Fans would want to buy--if it were available on video from Universal, the video source that has the deepest, darkest vaults in the video business. What Universal is not releasing (among many other Fields films) is a saga of Fields in his "Henpecked Husband" role as an office manager who has the answers to everything in the interior of his massive roll top desk. He is unappreciated by his wife, mother-in-law, and do nothing step-son, but loved by his grown daughter--a reoccuring theme in many of his movies. All he wants to do is take the afternoon off to go to the wrestling match, and being a loyal employee who does not want to offend his boss, thinks of an excuse to leave for the day. From here his day goes downhill. Does he ever see the match? Try to turn on the television and see this film, if it ever shows up on the major film "networks". Or, just pray for Universal to release this film on video. It's a great Fields film. Don't miss it if you can!

In terms of comedic concept, this is Fields' greatest film. A seemingly minor domestic comedy about a henpecked husband, it is so well developed that most people miss the actual humor because they're probably looking for vulgar, low laughs.

The film opens with the classic "burglars in the basement" passage. Put-upon Ambrose Wolfinger (typically ridiculous Fields persona name), under the pretense of brushing his teeth (rubbing the toothbrush on the sink to ruse his shrewish wife into thinking he's making with concerted oral hygiene). His wife implores him to "please come to bed" while he's more interested in having a few nightcaps.

We learn, right off the bat, that dear Ambrose is a bit circumspect and somewhat quietly manipulative and apparently angry, but, this is a survivor's profile.

Meanwhile, the burglars (including a young Walter Brennan) break into the basement and find his cache of home-made applejack. They help themselves to a few libations and get quickly soused (must have been a wicked brew), and make more noise. Wolfinger's wife rouses him from sleep to go and investigate, and he, not being in any hurry to confront danger, does that elaborate routine while putting on his socks. When she insists that he take his gun with him, and it accidentally goes off, he's genuinely disappointed that the bullet didn't hit her. His call to the "Safety Patrol" is hilarious.

Then, after a spectacular fall down the basement steps, he starts drinking with the burglars and they become fast friends, ending up singing songs from some obscure boys' glee club from Wolfinger's past. The Safety Patrol finally shows up, and hauls Wolfinger off for making illegal hooch and the burglars get away. Ironic. Brilliant.

While in jail, there's that truly great scene of him in the cell with the homicidal maniac. One of the funniest three minutes of film ever recorded.

The bit with him eating burnt toast at the breakfast table the next morning is really great. Truly eating crow.

Then, at work as a "Memory Expert" with a filing system that's a total wreck, the satire of business can't be missed. Seeing that we're supposedly living in an "Information Age," his gross mismanagement of such is a prescient statement about the know-nothings who took over the Office World about 60 years after this film was shot.

Then, comes the central comic trope of the film, his desire to attend the wrestling matches (another present-day obsession of the slobs out there) and creating a bogus reason to take off him work during the afternoon (i.e., his priggish mother-in-law, a teetotaler, dying suddenly due to "bad alcohol"). He gets off from work for the first time in 25 years and goes to the match without a ticket because his original one was pinched by his oafish step-son.

On the way, he runs into his double-hott secretary, whose mother is apparently a good friend of one of the grapplers, Kukalaka Mishobob ("Ah, Kukalaka, didn't know his first name," Wolfinger says.), and they go into the arena together. At that point, Mishobob's opponent, "Tossoff, the Russian Giant" hurls his foe out of the ring, knocking Wolfinger to the ground. His secretary runs to his aid.

At that moment, the aforementioned step-son shows up and sees the spectacle of Wolfinger witless on the cobbles, apparently drunk, in the company of some young babe. Of course, he rushes straight home to report this.

Here you have willful and dimwitted duplicity backfiring, and false presumptions of an observer misreading a situation, which affords the ability to extend the comic conceit. This is total genius.

Meanwhile, Wolfinger's employer has contacted the newspapers about the supposed death of his mother-in-law, and notice of it shows up in the afternoon edition (remember those?) at the Wolfinger residence. Flower arrangements start showing up at the house. Obviously, the Home Front gets outraged about this.

Our Hero, thinking that he has totally gotten over, goes home, not knowing what's waiting for him there.

The structuring of all of this is masterful, and Fields' playing of it is totally right-on.

Of course, all works out well for him in the end. Although fired, his office can't operate without him operating his arcane filing system, and the firm is hoodwinked into rehiring him at a higher salary with a four-week vacation slated before he returns to work.

The final scene shows Wolfinger, his wife (who comes over to his side) and daughter going for a ride in the family car, with the mother-in-law and step-son sitting in the rumble seat during a driving rain. The true second-class pinheads get their comeuppance. Justice prevails.

The storyline of this film is absurd, but, so logical in comedic terms. Comedy is a series of mistakes that leads through a process of ensuing error that reaches a point of pain that must be endured. And, we, the observers, are totally in on the joke, but, the actors aren't.

Great film. Much more intelligent than any of that "American Pie" and Adam Sandler doo-doo that tries to pass itself off as comedy.

Ambrose Wolfinger, memory expert & severely henpecked husband, sometimes feels like he's going to lose his grasp on life and fall into very deep trouble - kind of like that old MAN ON THE FLYING TRAPEZE.

W.C. Fields was at a lofty point in his career when he appeared in this hilarious little comedy. The second highest paid star at Paramount - only Mae West received more - he had just returned from MGM where he was featured as Wilkins Micawber in the all-star version of DAVID COPPERFIELD. Ill health would soon begin to stalk him again as a result of his dipsomania, but here he was wonderfully whimsical, whether dealing with spiteful in-laws, bullying traffic cops or bungling burglars in the cellar. With a handful of performances like this, Fields was to take permanent possession of a unique place in American film history.

Playing the two she-dragons Fields must face & fight are Kathleen Howard as his wife, and elderly Vera Lewis as her mother. Both excellent actresses, their scenes are waspish & wickedly funny and it is easy to see how together they could drive a normal male to distraction. It is unfortunate that these two skilled ladies are now nearly forgotten.

Grady Sutton is well cast as Fields' indolent, pouting brother-in-law; his comeuppance is richly deserved. That's Walter Brennan & Tammany Young as the crooning crooks who find themselves far from the banks of the Wabash.

It is interesting to note that the two women in the film who vigorously defend Fields also had close relationships with him outside the Studio. Mary Brian, as his daughter, was a longtime friend & neighbor of Fields. They had appeared together in the silent version of the story - RUNNING WILD - and Fields insisted on her inclusion in the talkie remake. Carlotta Monti, as Fields' faithful secretary, was also his longtime mistress. A part of his life for many years, she was at his side when he died on Christmas Day, 1946.

I agree with Fowler of Metarie. This is one of W. C. Fields classic masterpieces. It is certainly on a par with the available later films such as "The Bank Dick" and "Its a Gift". It is a shame that this film isn't available on commercial video.

The scene where W. C.'s character in sent, unwillingly, to investigate the, "burglars singing in the cellar", is one of the funniest on film. He encounters the burglars, including a young Walter Brennan with hair, in the cellar with his friends stealing W. C.'s illegal cider and singing. W. C. admires the singing and enters into the festivities. This scene, from the point where he is browbeaten into going down to check the cellar, to the point point where he is arrested by the investigating cops for making cider without a license, is comparable to anything on film, including the famous "and-a two hard boiled eggs," scene from the Marx Brothers, "Night at the Opera", or Fields own back porch scene from "Its a Gift".

I remember seeing this film broadcast about twenty years ago. I have looked to no avail for it to be rebroadcast ever since. This is such a good movie it really needs to be available.