Customer Reviews

Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Zeppo: A History of the Marx Brothers and a Satire on the Rest of the World (A Touchstone book)

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

It's rare for a book on a specific subject to be so extremely well-written that it's worth recommending to people on that basis alone. This is a book which would be entertaining and even hilarious to people who aren't Marx Brothers fanatics. Even the classic anecdotes that Marxophiles have read a thousand times are told with such wit and energy that they feel new. Adamson's work has served to greatly enhance my already fanatical interest. And yes, even the footnotes are funny.

There are two ways to write about comedians. The way which sometimes works is to play straight man and let the funny people be funny. The way which always fails is to try to be funnier than the material. Adamson has the annoying habit of doing this, and it ruins an otherwise well-researched and otherwise decently written book. Tons of pictures, lots of great Marxist dialogues, a great (if slightly obsolete) bibliography.

Adamson is best when delving into the pandemonium that went on behind the screen -- the troupes of writers and endless script incarnations it took to make the movies we love today.

But his analysis of the films themselves leaves much to be desired. In his endless scene-by-scene expositions, he assaults the reader with too much of the wrong detail -- surprisingly missing crucial moments and nuances while hitting us over the head with his own facile bias for page after page after page. (Adamson's editor must have been spending a day at the races when this manuscript came up for review.)

We also don't get much of anything about the Brothers' famous sidekicks. Only a couple paragraphs are spared for the great Margaret Dumont, and NONE for Louis Calhern, arguably the best straight-man performance in 1930's comedy.

The best of the Marx books by far, it is the book that one of the brothers SHOULD have written. Exhaustively researched and written with wit and style, it is the one book you should own if you are a Marx Bros. fan. Don't miss it, under any circumstances. It's funny enough to be a must-read for anyone, not just Marx fans.

If you could only read one book about the Marx Brothers and their films, this one should be it. Incredibly complete and detailed, extremely well-researched; but also, hilariously written (even the footnotes are amusing). I cannot reccomend this title highly enough. Adamson reviews the Marxes films scene-by-scene, as well as providing details of how the films came to be written and produced, plus a good deal of biographical information about the Brothers. A new edition is, I'm told, in the works and LONG overdue

Adamson does more than just write a biography of the Marx Brothers -- he legitimately thows how their early lives influenced their movies, and then goes full circle to show how the movies influenced their lives. Most of the book is a literary critique of the movies, in which Adamson shows keen insight. A key point that he drives home is that the boys were best when unencumbered by a plot, and that they lost nearly all of their appeal when asked to do a script not specifically written for them. Much attention is given to the other people in their lives, especially Margaret Dumont (who really DIDN'T get the jokes on her, quite often!) and Irving Thalberg

The best thing about this exhaustively researched and jauntily written critical biography is the anecdotes: Groucho once "attended a spritualists' meeting and answered a call for questions to the Great Spirit by standing up and asking, 'What's the capital of North Dakota?'"

Adamson, a college professor, brings an academic's seriousness of purpose and breadth of knowledge to bear on the Marx Brothers' lives and work. He also brings -- and this sets off this volume from most Hollywood hagiography -- an irreverent and entertaining prose style. He is serious but never stuffy.

Although he touches on every stage of their career, Adamson wisely concentrates on the '30s, when the Marx Brothers were at their creative peak. He examines almost scene by scene such movie classics as "The Coconuts," "Animal Crackers," "A Night at the Opera" and "A Day at the Races," demonstrating how and why the comedy team was funny.

Adamson also records their decline, more in the style of a documentary than a Hollywood expose. The book is packed with photographs and movie stills and dozens of excerpts of the madcap dialog that made them famous. And more anecdotes: Groucho "was probably not aware of everything he was saying when a 'You Bet Your Life' contestant stated that she had 13 children and could explain it only by proclaiming, 'I love my husband!' 'I like my cigar too,' said Groucho, 'but I take it out once in a while.'"

This exhaustively researched, well considered and very funny book is exactly what the Brothers would have said if they hadn't been so busy making the movies that are examined here so thoroughly. Adamson displays a keen sense of humor and a clear-eyed view of the work of these comic greats. If you only want one book on the Marx Brothers, make it this one. You won't be disappointed.

There's a lot of great material in this book; there's no denying that. There are wonderful sections on not only the brothers' movies and vaudeville shows but also the people who worked behind the camera, the screenwriters, and details on the original drafts of some of the movies, showing the changes they went through before they became the final movie versions we know and love today. However, all of those great things can be overwhelmed at times by a number of things, such as Adamson's insistence on trying to be really funny and witty. This was also a problem with Simon Louvish's more recent 'Monkey Business' (although that book had far more of a professional approach to the material apart from the at times annoying writing style). You don't really have to have a funny writing style or constantly make jokes when the people you're writing about are funny enough on their own already. This book could also stand an updated edition; since it was published in 1973, many of the people being talked about (including Groucho, Gummo, and Zeppo) were alive and well, and so are referred to in the present tense. Adamson also describes a number of things, events, or remarks as "recent" and "current," and over 30 years later they're obviously no longer that recent or current! However, those are really minor quibbles in comparison to the overwhelming problem with this book, or at least how Adamson chose to present the material.

It's perfectly alright for a writer to occasionally work his or her opinion into a work of nonfiction. However, Adamson does it so often that it just comes across as biased and unprofessional, like he couldn't put aside his own prejudices or views in the interest of writing a balanced neutral account. He presents so many of his opinions as undisputed authoritative fact, which really isn't fair or professional. For example, my own favorite Marx Brothers movie is 'A Day at the Races,' which he constantly makes cutting comments about, saying the jokes are limp and feeble more often than not, it doesn't start the way it should, the boys are too out of character, none of the musical numbers are necessary, and on and on. He also leaves out a number of important scenes in the film. It's quite ironic, since earlier he had mentioned his disdain for critics who overanalyse comedy and what makes us laugh. From here on out he criticises their films more and more, engaging in that very overanalysis. Chances are, if you talk to people who either came to the team through their post-1937 films or who saw them without being aware of the general consensus on them being not quite up to par with their earlier work, you won't find nearly as many complaints. Who cares if they've become softer around the edges, if there's more of a plot and less constant joking, or if jokes aren't followed up by the punchlines you were waiting for? Just because he thinks these later jokes and movies don't work means everyone feels the same way? He also waxes disbelief when he quotes someone who actually has a positive opinion of these later films, like it's outrageous anyone would actually find them funny and worth watching. And only three pages to discuss 'Room Service'?! I don't think anyone would argue that these later films are of the same quality that their earlier films were, because of how they lost a lot of creative control and were forced to put a romantic/musical subplot in each picture, but I think a lot of people are missing the point. They had to change and grow as artists; they couldn't have constantly gone on remaking 'Monkey Business.' When they moved to MGM, a new formula was put in place, and it saved their careers. Adamson seems so busy bashing their post-1937 films, with more criticism and less amount of space reserved for each succeeding one, that he can barely find anything good to say about them. For example, just take this one sentence about 'The Big Store': "It's hard to tell whether the rest of these scenes are supposed to be funny or not, so let's just get on to the climax." What a professional approach. The Marx Brothers only made 13 films together, and to only like half of their recorded output really calls into question one's qualifications to write a book about their film career. Come on, who would dare to write a book about, say, Laurel and Hardy, who made a lot more than just 13 films, and admit one only cares for half of their work? I really think their post-1937 films are due for a positive reevaluation; they're really not as bad as a lot of people have long made them out to be.

There are also a number of factual errors he makes (e.g., giving Gummo's year of birth as 1897 instead of 1892, giving the wrong release years of the films 'Seven Years Bad Luck' and 'Blockheads'), as well as a bias against a number of other comedians and comedy teams, whom he makes dismissive remarks about (particularly Abbott and Costello). Because I'm sure no fans of these other comedians will be reading this book and feel offended that their other favorite comedians have just been mocked. Adamson also makes a number of comments displaying bias against silent films, such as, to use just one example, saying no one knew the names of silent screenwriters, not even those who knew the people. Yeah, because no one had ever heard the names of people like June Mathis or Frances Marion.

Really, this was an interesting book with a lot of good material, but ultimately Adamson's unprofessional comments and biases get in the way, along with his overanalyses of their movies. Whether or not he thinks a certain joke isn't funny or that a scene isn't effective doesn't mean that everyone else feels that way too.

Is there someone living who doesn't like the Marx Brothers? If so then this is the book that will turn them around. Carefully researched and even more thoughtfully written, Joe Adamson does the job that few can do which is finding the humor in the boys without wandering too deeply into the philosophy behind their gleeful romp through entertainment and yet is sufficiently cerebral to command the attention of more than those just seeking a laugh or two. This is not a joke book filled with all the lines you love and remember, this is a book about jokes and why they're memorable. It carefully follows the troop of conniving funny men from Vaudeville and their "Fun In High Skool" routine to the big time and Broadway where they dominated the comedic New York stage for many years. It was possible to go every few days or weeks to one of their performances and not see the same show. As the brothers got bored doing a bit of business or some part of the dialogue one way, they'd change it. Which made their transition to films somewhat difficult as from one take to the next they weren't doing the same thing; Continuity didn't exist which is why their first two films-which are really nothing more than their stage plays photographed-have a jumpy quality that doesn't serve the material as well as it might. But the boys had a good time. Subsequently when MGM coralled them, they figured out that a better performance on screen was a smoother performance and, most importantly, a funnier performance. Adamson gives considerable attention to each film but towards the end he has to admit the brothers were making them for the money and not the fun they'd once had. But to celebrate the glory of the Marx Brothers there is simply no better book. It's at once a history of the brothers but also a history of entertainment at a certain time and place. Few books exist that cover not only the performers but the society and sociology of the time. Mr. Adamson has done a superlative job and even the brothers would congratulate him just before they either hit him with a cream pie or devised some other visual fun.