You Can't Cheat An Honest Man

More W.C. Fields to discuss and to me that’s always a good thing.

In 1939 W.C. Fields signed a contract with Universal Pictures to write and star in four movies. The fact that two of them turned out to be among the funniest movies ever made (“The Bank Dick” (1940) and “Never Give a Sucker an Even Break” (1941)) and the other two are solid three star movies (“You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man” (1939) and his teaming with Mae West in “My Little Chickadee” (1940)) means both sides got what they wanted. Fields could write what he wanted and Universal could sit back and watch the money roll in. The films are loaded with surreal moments that harken back to his free-wheeling Paramount comedies of the early 1930s.

In the first film of the four, “You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man” (1939) W.C. plays huckster carnival owner Larson E. Whipsnade (say it fast) who never misses an opportunity to pull one over on his rube audiences. But he’s so gleeful about it that we don’t mind.

My favorite scene is when he introduces his sideshow attractions, one of which is a pair of ordinary hillbilly types. Whipsnade introduces them, saying “Here they are. The world’s shortest giant and the world’s tallest midget. They baffle science.” That kills me.

Later he performs double duty as the bearded female trick shot artist Buffalo Bella, astride a horse Whipsnade calls “the world’s largest Shetland pony.”

The film also stars Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, whom Fields had a running feud with on the radio. Their insult scenes are funny and Bergen and McCarthy are too, but too much footage is devoted to them, when what we really want to see is Fields.

Whipsnade’s daughter Vicki (Constance Moore) agrees to marry the rich, but stiffer than stiff Roger Bel-Goodie to get dad’s carnival out of debt. Whipsnade arrives at the wedding via chariot and gets things off to a bad start when he talks about his experience hunting snakes. (Mrs. Bel-Goodie screams and faints at their very mention.). There’s also the funniest ping pong game ever put on film, with Whipsnade hitting the ball back and forth, faster and faster, out of spectator’s mouths and from a gurgling fountain. Great stuff.

One drawback of the film is its uncomfortable racism. There’s nothing particularly funny about Whipsnade inquiring of a group of African-Americans, “Which one of you is the head Ubangi” and other such comments. I wish they weren’t there, but no one ever accused Fields of being genteel. Fortunately its only a small part of the film, and there’s enough funny moments to overcome that distaste.

Rating for “You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man”: Three stars.

International House

“International House” (1933) is one of those free-wheeling, anything for a laugh, Pre-Code comedies that I find irresistible. There’s basically no plot, but plenty of opportunities for specialty numbers, skits, and riotous comedy.

Paramount, that most Continental of movie studios, seemed to have a special affinity for these types of loopy, off-the-cuff, anything goes movies. Check out Bing Crosby’s feature film debut “The Big Broadcast” (1932) and you’ll see what I’m talking about. Paramount had the right actors, writers, directors and technicians who could effortlessly pull off these types of movies while making it all look so easy.

And like a cherry on a sundae, “International House” is topped off by the presence of the great W.C. Fields.

Was W.C. Fields the funniest man who ever lived? I don’t know, but whenever I’m watching one of his movies I think he is.

How to describe the plot of “International House?” Let’s see, there’s an inventor trying to interest a group of investors in a new fangled invention called television. They are all gathered at the International House, a lavish hotel, in Wu-Hu, China. Fields is flyer and explorer Henry R. Quail, who is attempting to fly around the world in his specially designed airplane (liberally stocked with his favorite beverages, as seen here).



He mistakes Wu-Hu for Kansas City and makes an emergency landing in the middle of a floor show. Like a one-man army, he practically turns the hotel upside down to suit his purposes, mainly in pursuit of Peggy Hopkins Joyce, playing herself. In real life Joyce was a notorious serial divorcee and plays the part to the hilt. She has a suitor (Bela Lugosi) who does not appreciate Quail’s interest in her.

There’s also George Burns and Gracie Allen as the hotel doctor and nurse, the incomparable Franklin Pangborn as the hotel manager, and Stu Erwin, desperately trying to keep Ms. Joyce at arms length for fear of incurring his fiancee’s wrath.

The television demonstrations don’t go as planned, and instead of showing the investors a six-day bicycle race in New York, the signals go astray and pick up performances from crooner Rudy Vallee, Baby Rose Marie belting out a tune at the top of her lungs, a painfully unfunny comedy skit by Colonel Stoopnagle and Budd (radio comedians?) and Cab Calloway singing “Reefer Man” about the joys of marijuana. (You can bet THAT number would not have been allowed in the reformed Production Code a year later).

But center stage belongs gloriously to Fields. I think his entrance to Wu-Hu is one of the greatest in movie history. Customers atop the rooftop of the International House hear a noise and look up to see a bizarre looking airplane hovering above them. Over the noise of the engines can be heard the familiar Fields voice asking, “Is this Kansas City, Kansas, or Kansas City, Missouri?”

Forced to make an emergency landing, he finds out he is in Wu-Hu in a comedy exchange I won’t repeat for fear of spoiling it. But when told he is lost, Fields exclaims, “Kansas City is lost. I am found.”

I don’t know why that cracks me up, but that’s one of my favorite lines of all time. If I’m having a bad day or annoyed with something, I just think to myself “Kansas City is lost, I am found” and all is right with the world.

It’s always good to see Lugosi, especially in a big budget studio picture like this. Like his performance in the Joe E. Brown comedy “Broadminded” (1931), he was adept at comedy and it’s too bad he could not have more comedies like this. His larger than life personality is perfect for these quirky, off-the-wall, surreal yet eminently enjoyable comedies.

Rating for “International House”: Three and a half stars.