The Fatal Glass of Beer (1933) User Reviews

Frozen Fields

[JoeytheBrit · 8/10 · 1 September 2005]

This W.C. Fields short is eighteen minutes of inspired lunacy that deserves to be better known. It begins with Fields 'singing' a cautionary song that warns against the dangers of the city, to a Mountie in a wooden shack : "it ain't no place for women," proclaims Fields, "but pretty men go there." With that he's off home, walking along behind a dog sled that includes a dachshund whose feet never come within two feet of the ground, and in front of a backdrop that races by at an impossible speed. Repeatedly braving dashes of snow in the face as he declares "it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast", Fields is also heard to mutter knowingly that the snow "tastes more like cornflakes." The bizarre humour continues as Fields arrives home to dunk half a french loaf into his soup and discover the weather pump is so cold that the water pump is dispensing only ice cubes.

This film possibly comes closest to capturing the genius of Fields and his peculiarly unique brand of humour. There are more laughs in its short running time than most comedies five times its length. Placing his foot on a chair and leaning his elbow on his knee, Fields opines with mock seriousness that "Once the city gets into a ba-hoy's sa-histem, he a-loses his a-hankerin' for the ca-huntry." On its own it's not a funny line, but delivered by Fields at the height of his powers it will provide you with your biggest laugh for weeks.

Bill Fields Satire On Victorian Morality Plays

[bkoganbing · 8/10 · 14 June 2011]

That Fatal Glass Of Beer refers to a glass that George Chandler took on a trip to the big city which led to a life of crime. This particular short subject for Mack Sennett that W.C. Fields did was one of his masterpieces.

It's not a series of gags although there are some good ones here including that recurring one where he goes to the cabin door and says it's not a fit night out for man nor beast and then gets hit with a blast of studio snow. But the film itself is a really good satire on all the Victorian morality plays that Fields grew up with in his youth.

Rosemary Theby as his wife and George Chandler as their son get a few laughs as well. Chandler left the Yukon wilds and went to the big city where demon rum got a hold of him and he robbed a bank of some bonds which he was carrying as a messenger.

Such stories were the staple of the theater while Fields grew up in the 1880s and 1890s. That Fatal Glass Of Beer is a great spoof on all of them. As one of the great tipplers of Hollywood, Fields had little patience with pompous moralizers. And remember Prohibition was coming to a close when That Fatal Glass Of Beer was made. People were very tired of the great experiment as it was called and this film no doubt found an eager audience.

Definitely the best of the short subjects of W.C. Fields.

"I think I'll go milk the elk"

[ackstasis · 6/10 · 26 May 2009]

They say that W.C. Fields was unique among comedians, and I'm not going to argue. 'The Fatal Glass of Beer (1933),' generally ranked among his best efforts, wasn't as consistently hilarious as I'd been hoping, but one does certainly recognise that Fields had a style that was all his own. The film opens in the frozen Yukon goldfields, where a prospector sits huddled in the primitive shelter of a wooden hut – I immediately thought of Chaplin in 'The Gold Rush (1925),' but then the characters started speaking and the spell was broken. The loose plot concerns a simpleton prospector whose son travelled to the city and was consumed by the bottle, eventually winding up in prison for three years. It all unfolds in mock seriousness, with every character shamelessly hamming their lines to the camera in broad, ridiculous accents. From Fields' apparent contempt for his own storyline, I'd say he was satirising a type of film that was relatively common in the early sound era, the sort of sombre morality tale about the corruption of the Big City on impressionable rural minds.

Perhaps Fields' type of comedy takes some getting used to, and his absurdist style of wit might easily be misconstrued as sloppy or stilted. Are those rear projections supposed to look so ridiculously fake? I'd like to think so, but, then again, I've seen many movies where obviously-bogus backgrounds have been used with a completely straight face. A lot of the time, Fields' lack of subtlety works perfectly. There's absolutely no reason why getting hit in the face with snow after saying "and it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast" should be funny the sixth time around, but I laughed every time it happened. There's also a droll self-referential moment when Fields chokes on the artificial snow and declares, "tastes more like cornflakes." Even so, while good for the occasional chuckle, 'The Fatal Glass of Beer' feels oddly sparse in terms of laugh-out-loud jokes, and I certainly wasn't rolling in the aisles. Straight afterwards, I watched Buster Keaton's 'Cops (1922),' and that actually did have me laughing my head off – but that'd be opening a whole new can of worms, wouldn't it?

An Effective Blend of the Subtle & the Outlandish

[Snow Leopard · 19 November 2002]

With an effective blend of the subtle and the outlandish, this comedy is one of the most memorable and distinctive of W. C. Fields's short movies. It works well both as a spoof of movie-making techniques (especially from, but hardly limited to, the old melodramas), and also as a showcase for Fields's array of comic skills. There is the silly song about "The Fatal Glass of Beer", plenty of sight gags, the recurring "ain't a fit night out" gag, and more.

It all works even better when you watch it over again - Fields can be so unpredictable that you don't notice all the subtleties when you're still trying to figure out where it's all going. This one has plenty of good moments and also, despite its deceptively simple appearance, some careful craftsmanship.

Deliberately stagy

[planktonrules · 7/10 · 10 July 2006]

This Mack Sennet produced comedy starred W. C. Fields and it was deliberately constructed like an old fashioned stage melodrama--complete with the same type music, sets and entrances. The concept was kind of funny, but after a while the single joke got kind of thin. However, there was an eventual payoff, as the ending of the film was terrific.

The story begins with Fields singing an annoying and bad song about the evils of strong drink(?!). This is where the title of the film was derived, but about 80% of the short occurred after this and was unrelated to the song, other than the fact it was all told as a giant morality tale against vice.

Not bad, but certainly not up to the standards of such Fields full-length classics as IT'S A GIFT and THE BANK DICK.

I think I'll go out and milk the elk...

[onepotato2 · 9/10 · 22 May 2004]

I first saw this send-up of "the prodigal son" in a film course. I think my teacher and I were the only 2 people laughing. I was astonished that a film that looks like it was filmed in a garage could make my face hurt. It has a wonderfully screwy story arc, and corny gags. It's all over the place and ends abruptly, but I love it.

The Vaudeville origins of some corny bits (the snow gag) amuse. Other motifs of the period are not worthy of inclusion, but what little writing there is makes me laugh as hard as anything recent. Fields' hogwash title ditty is pretty terrific. I especially love a few of the sight gags, including a runt of a dog on a sled team, a leggy salvation army gal, and W.C. calling for Lena the elk. The sound quality is heinous, but the arbitrary scene changes relieve some of the tedium and claustrophobia of other Fields shorts (The Golf Specialist).

It mocks everything in sight; staginess, melodrama, piety, propriety, actors who mispronounce words. I don't know that there any other 18 minutes of film make me smile as much as this ridiculous little movie.

This Was My Recent Introduction To W.C. Fields

[skeebwilcox · 7/10 · 12 October 2009]

I grew up a fan of The Three Stooges...basically thinking that there was "no other comedy prior to 1960 besides them". Since that time, I still believe the Stooges, especially Shemp-era material, is the greatest comedy of all time. In the 1990's I came to appreciate the genius of Tim Moore & Spencer Williams. I have almost every episode of "The Amos 'n' Andy Show" and now consider them just a hair below the Stooges in terms of comic creativity.

Honesty needs to come into play here as I reveal that I had never seen a full W.C. Fields short or feature in my life prior to this year. My introduction to him was "The Fatal Glass Of Beer" and I am amazed at this short! Whereas most of the clips that I had ever seen of Fields turned me off from ever wanting to see anything else, this short makes me want to view his entire body of work.

If I had to make a short, this is probably what it would turn out to be like!

Sorry I Done It.

[rmax304823 · 5/10 · 4 January 2018]

I take this to be a satire on the original "Fatal Glass of Beer" of thirteen years earlier (directed by Todd Browning!) and a poke in the eye of all maudlin movies about remorse and the return of the prodigal son.

It's the Canadian Northwest during a brutal blizzard. Fields, all wrapped up, sings a sad song to a visiting Mountie while playing the dulcimer with a massive mitten. bringing the listener to tears.

Returning home to his wife after "milking the moose", he finds his son returning home after being released from prison, sentenced after having had a single glass of beer that prompted him to steal some valuable bonds.

"Tell me, son, what did you do with the bonds?" And then guess what happens.

Funniest running gag. Five times -- count 'em -- five, Field stands in a doorway and proclaims that it's not a fit day out for man or beast, and has a bucket full of fake snow thrown in his face from offscreen.

Not Field's best. It's lost some luster over the years because maudlin movies are harder to find. Today, Fields satire would have to be directed at action movies.

W.C. Weird

[amosduncan_2000 · 10/10 · 14 February 2006]

This early short subject, beloved to some of us; really shows one of the great qualities that would set his (best) comedy apart: he was strange. Not exactly verbal comedy, nor really slapstick, W.C. seemed to create his own oddball universe much like, but never quite, ours.

I loved this short from the first time I saw it as a kid, and I think it's one of a kindness really makes it his best (though others are quite funny.) Mack Sennett wanted something more in the way of conventional slapstick; Feilds had to fight for this; which is in part a spoof of sentimental wilderness poetry about Alaska.

Nobody liked it at the time. Fields himself said, "maybe it's not good. But I like it." Thank Godness he stuck by his guns and went on to create his own one of a kind comedy world.

A Son Comes Home

[lugonian · 6/10 · 3 July 2010]

THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER (Paramount, 1933), a Mack Sennett Star Comedy directed by Clyde Bruckman, features W.C. Fields in his third comedy short (second for Sennett) that ranks something of an oddity, especially for Fields, whose screenplay taken from "The Stolen Bonds." Instead of titling this short as "The Stolen Bonds," it acquires a sort of title giving indication of one set in a barroom with Fields acting as bartender involved in crooked game of cards, then giving suckers an even break by offering them fatal glasses of beer. No such plot in this 20 minute short. As titles are concerned, they never really mattered to Fields, only the story and the comic supplements behind it. Reportedly labeled as Fields' worst comedy, it, in fact appears that way at first glance. In reality, it's an attempt that deliberately turns a bad screenplay into as a satire on both old-time stage or silent screen melodramas.

Starting off with soundtrack of ragtime piano playing over sounds of a barking dog for its opening title credits, the fade-in, reminiscent of a primitive D.W. Griffith melodrama of the 1910s, opens with the blizzard where the focus is on a mountain cabin. Set way up north in the mounties, the plot revolves around Mr. Snavely (W.C. Fields), a north-woods trapper, whose son, Chester (George Chandler), a former bank messenger, just completed his three year prison sentence for stealing bonds. Before his return, Snavely sings the sad song, "The Fatal Glass of Beer" that moves the visiting Mountie, Officer Posthlewhistle (Rychard Cramer) to tears. After milking the elk and getting ice cubes from the water pump, Snavely rides his dog sled home where he and his wife (Rosemary Theby) welcome back their son, Chester. While glad to have him home again, the Snavely's begin to have doubts about Chester's bond theft.

So much for the plot, such as it is. So much for the comedy, such as it is. Unlike comedy shorts featuring great teams as Laurel and Hardy or The Three Stooges, THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER contains no hilarious chase scenes for its grand finale. It doesn't rely on physical comedy nor verbal exchanges to get laughs. Yet, next to THE DENTIST (1932), THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER is regarded as Fields' most memorable and revived comedy short. If remembered at all, it should be for Fields' classic line, "And it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast," rather than his singing (very badly) the title tune that could move anyone to tears. Every time Fields looks out the door or window to recite the aforementioned line, snow repeatedly hits him directly in his face, a run-on gag used as many as seven times. Fields' would recite that line again in his feature-length comedy, THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY (Paramount, 1934), during its play sequence of "The Drunkard," that also pokes fun of the old-time melodramas. Production values for THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER are limited, and it shows, intentionally, especially during its "outdoor" scenes obviously lifted from other films. Who can forget the sequence where Fields stands in front of a reindeer herd calling for Ellie. No doubt that's he in front of a rear projection screen.

While Fields is usually the central focus of his movies, the character types supporting him usually add to the humor. Rosemary Theby as "Maw" Snavely, plays it straight as the pioneering woman-type addressing her husband as "Paw." George Chandler, a familiar face in countless movies and later TV shows of the 1950s, is ideally cast as the country-boy son. Aside from Rychard Cramer in the story's opening, there's also a couple of Indians at the mid-way point who disappear after making their verbal exchanges, "How," "How," "And how," with Mr. Snavely.

Considering how Public Broadcast Station's 1971 summer series of "The Silent Years," hosted by Orson Welles, dedicated itself solely to 13-weeks of silent film presentations, THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER turned out to be an added attraction following the feature presentation of D.W. Griffith's SALLY OF THE SAWDUST (1925) starring Carol Dempster, and of course, W.C. Fields in his first leading role in a major motion picture. Over the years, THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER has acquired a cult status amongst Fields' fans. Fallen into public domain, this, along with other Fields shorts, THE GOLF SPECIALIST (1930) and THE DENTIST (1932) became readily available to home video dating back to the 1980s, usually to poor to adequate quality, often eliminating the closing Paramount logo with the M&M TV Corporation label. This and other Fields comedy shorts have turned up on DVD, assuring continued availability for future generations to come.

In spite of its reputation, good, bad or indifferent, THE FATAL GLASS OF BEER is a classic example of Fields' comic style made known basically for his most famous quote in movie history, "And it ain't a fit night out ... for man nor beast." (**1/2)

Return of the lost son

[Horst_In_Translation · 4/10 · 11 September 2013]

This little comedy was produced by Academy Award winner Mack Sennett and stars Walk of Fame member W.C. Fields as an aged prospector who sings a heartbreaking tale to an officer about how his son left him and his wife for the big city, where he quickly got sucked into the abyss of wrongdoing and malice, was consequently arrested and had to go to prison. And surprise, surprise, shortly after the father sings the song, the son returns home willing to stay with his family forever now. Everybody breaks out in tears of happiness and joy. Or do they?

Unfortunately, I wasn't particularly entertained during these slightly more than 18 minutes. Here and there it has its strengths, but as a whole I was rather underwhelmed, especially during the scene with the deer towards the end which could not have been more obvious it was Fields just walking in front of an earlier recorded tape of the animals. Come on guys, this was done better 40 years ago. Anyway, watch it if you're interested in fields or into what American comedy looked like between the World Wars, otherwise stay away.

A misunderstood classic

[Rambler · 10/10 · 29 November 2000]

When this film was released in 1933, the majority of reviews were negative and even hostile. The film was hated and vilified; audiences and theatre owners found it tacky and cheap. They missed the whole point. The film is a sharp satire of both the Mellerdrammers of the early twentieth century and of studio filmmaking. Fields and Bruckman were too incisive as comics not to have done everything in this film very deliberately. From the overly obvious sets to the absolute WORST background projection ever seen, the film is a sly poke in Hollywood's eye and that's where its humor comes from. I just about wet myself the first time I saw Fields go out to "milk the elk". He stands in front of a background projection of elk in the snow and begins calling to them. When they start to run, they grow larger and larger, dwarfing the non-plussed Fields. Sadly, since this is a public domain title, it's hard to find a good copy of it. About the best I've seen is on the "6 Films by W.C. Fields" LD or DVD

Really quite bad

[Stu-42 · 3/10 · 20 April 2007]

I'm always in the position of being a spoilsport as I usually just review films when people don't see what I see in them. Most reviewers are extremely positive so there's not much point in heaping more praise on something so here I go again with the negative stuff. I'm a big film fan and I love delving into history and discovering actors and movies that aren't well known to me. When it's a hit, it's wonderful and when it's a miss like here it's a lot less fun. I've watched a little bit of Fields now and I'm convinced that he's not my taste and quite frankly I'm not sure why he's regarded as a top early comedian. Chaplin and Keaton were genuinely funny whereas I find W.C. mostly weird with an occasional humorous surprise. So far I've liked the Dentist the best and this one is the worst. Besides a rare chuckle for the cornflake comment and the quip about the dog with mustard I was pretty stunned at the completely unfunny material here. The scene with the bread being dipped is very frustrating and I didn't find an ounce of humor in the song near the beginning. I'm in the earlier stages of film history and I'm sure I'll develop more perspective and see more of Fields along with his other contemporaries. Perhaps my opinion of him will get better, but I'm afraid this film will not.

An absolute gem and delightful to watch

[llltdesq · 10/10 · 14 December 2001]

This is quite possibly the crown jewel in the long and illustrious career of an extremely troubled and very funny man. Fields has a field day sending up a style of melodrama popular at the time. At one and the same time, this is atypical of Fields' work generally, but still has his fingerprints all over it as well. Highlights are far too numerous to list, but Fields's rendition of the song, "The Fatal Glass of Beer" (you can't really accurately call it singing), the running gag, "It ain't a fit night out for man or beast" and the ending are hilariously perfect, with a sense of timing of which Chaplin would have been proud. Most joyously recommended

Fields at his best

[bobl-2 · 10/10 · 18 December 2005]

I grew up during the '60s, when Fields was in vogue as a rebel along the lines of Bogart or Brando. Nevertheless, I didn't find myself laughing nearly as much at his feature films "The Bank Dick", "My Little Chickadee", or "You Can't Cheat an Honest Man" as at those of Keaton or the Marx Brothers. It wasn't until the '90s that I happened across this short, which finally convinced me that Fields was a comic genius.

With its absurd juxtaposition of dulcimer, Mountie, Salvation Army girl, wayward son, snow, tambourine, dachshund, bonds, the Yukon, student quarrymen, and unfit nights, this short has more laughs in it than any of Fields's features.

I'd say more, but I have to go milk the elk.

A gold nooogit

[r-tomes · 10/10 · 1 January 2006]

The Godfather, Seven Samuri, The Third Man: all fantastic, but after messing around for many years pondering over what is "the best film ever made" I find that I need look no further than this abominable piece of piffle that conceals within its two creaky reels, the quintessence of the art. It is perfect.

The Fatal Glass of Beer turns not only the Hollywood film but also American drama inside-out. All its workings are on full display in every second, wriggling wretchedly.

Bill Fields was a world-class juggler of inanimate objects on the Vuadeville stage but here we see him, having progressed to the movies, juggling with the censor, the studio, the box office, his company, the very edge of reason itself and, more than usual, sobriety. His lamp is never lit but he certainly is.

This is the only picture in which Fields plays the Hero. He is neither The 'Great Man' nor the down-trodden husband; he is very much the head of his household. This gives him the sense of freedom to do what he likes. And he does.

Fields was famous for rehearsing lines verbatim, only to throw in an ad-lib on a take, I wonder if the line " My uncle Ichabod said (speaking of the city) 'T'ain't no place for women gal, but pretty men goo thar.'" was an on the spot invention? Certainly at hearing this the already weeping Constable appears inconsolable; is he covering his laughing with crying? I think so, as Fields adds " Comical old gentleman he waas... alwiz said somthin te make yer split yer sides a-laffinn..." It's certainly a brave line censor-wise. But then who could pitch such a missable curve better?

It is difficult to sum up the sublimity of the thing by just mentioning a few bits of business - many reviewers have waded through practically all of it - but of all that sticks in my mind and bursts out as laughter (sometimes in the most unfortunate situations) is the plain fact that included in Field's essential equipment for surviving the conditions in nineteenth century Alaska is an electric fan.

See it once and you'll see it forever.

They don't make 'em like that. (At all.)

My favorite Fields short

[carlgt1 · 9/10 · 11 March 2001]

When I first saw this film I was wondering if it would be a spoof of Chaplin's "Gold Rush." However it's totally different. Fields is excellent and the film has a very good moral! ;-) I love the very sad song he sings which doesn't seem to have a rhyme in it.

One warning however, for DVD fans. The version I have was on a cheap DVD (along with "The Dentist" and "Golf Specialist"). Apparently, the company did a very bad job of porting the film over to digital because the soundtrack of every film is off by about 2 seconds. So the dialogue & sound effects are very mismatched. There is another company that puts out a DVD which is better quality but apparently while the overall quality is better, the version of "The Dentist" is censored & has cheezy music added in.

Bring back Fields!

[jugl11 · 10/10 · 15 December 2005]

I was driving to visit my cousin recently, & passed very close to the birthplace of W C Fields, a native Philadelphian like myself. It reminded me that W C has somehow gotten out of vogue. WHY?? Back in the 1960's & 1970's there was a huge revival of interest in his anti-establishment ways. We used to have birthday parties for him every Jan. 29th (I won the child-insulting contest one year). His films were on TV constantly.

It's time to get old William Claude back where he belongs! He was the greatest, & we need more of his brand of humor now. (Plus, he inspired me to learn how to juggle - a hobby I've now enjoyed for almost 40 years)

Best short: Fatal Glass of Beer

Best Feature: It's a Gift

all-time classic

[jonathan-577 · 10/10 · 21 February 2007]

Pompous ass Harold Bloom calls this the greatest film of all time, and I see what he means. It's an elaborate parody of the then-current northern melodrama - the family in the cabin worryin' and cryin', milking the elk amid the sloppy-cut rear projections, mushing the dachshund, spilling a hatful of soap flakes in the soup. W. C. Fields is an a-hole the way Eminem is an a-hole, it's a floating theme. He also plays the dulcimer with his mits on, narrates the tale of the salvation army girl who high-kicked his son in the forehead, "A trick she'd learned before she had been saved," has a crying fit with a mouth full of crackers. And more - all in eighteen minutes. It rocks!

It Takes Days to Recover

[Hitchcoc · 10/10 · 17 September 2001]

I have probably watched this little gem a hundred times. Every time Officer Postalwhistle shows up and the sad song of the Fatal Glass of Beer is sung, I fall apart. Ah the broken tambourine. This is a series of sight gags and wonderful schtick that will live forever. The film quality is terrible but it doesn't matter. Fields is at his caustic best, especially when he finds out that Chester disposed of the money. The scene with the loaves of French bread being dunked across the table in the other person's soup, going out to milk the elk, all are dominoed into some sort of order. When Fields begins to pontificate, it is hilarious, especially the b-hoy in the c-hountry speech. It goes from place to place with the plot only there as a vehicle for the next gag. The snow in the face punctuates each scene. I love how the wife just kind of does what she needs to do, but Fields revolves like some rogue planet moving from place to place. This is a gem for the ages!

19 min of Genius!

[ntbs · 10/10 · 17 February 2007]

This movie contains so much surralistic humor, so it stands for itself! The song about Chester is so funny, that there's almost no need to mention Fields' trembling voice when he's singing the song without any voice ("You know, we can't get any ipecac up in this part of the country."). The scenes where a "regiseur" throws corn-flakes into his face ("Tastes more like corn-flakes.") when he says the classic: "And it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast" and at the end of the movie don't throw any corn-flakes. It's so funny! For you fellas and girls: Don't let ya' temptations lead you to the big city, 'cause it surely will get you to "sell them bonds".

Not a Fit Night For Man Nor Beast

[telegonus · 10/10 · 16 November 2001]

This is far and above the funniest short subject I have ever seen. It is funny from the inside, as a series of surreal ideas, as much as for what we see on the screen. The minimalist sets work perfectly, and Mr. Fields has never had better timing than he has here. As funny to think about as to experience, it might have been the main inspiration for Monty Python or Fawlty Towers in its use of attitudes and punctilios to score comedic points; and as a headlong assault on the Protestant work ethic, it is, like the aforementioned, priceless.

A surprising gem of a comedy

[Enchorde · 8/10 · 3 July 2019]

This was included as bonus material on a disc with A Farewell to Arms. Never heard of it before, but when I had watched both the classic A Farewell to Arms, it is The Fatal Glass of Bear that I will remember.

W.C. Fields stars in this short set in the dark and cold wilderness of Canada. And he is brilliant. He delivers quirky lines ("I'll just go out and milk the elk...") with a deadpan seriousness that makes it impossible not to laugh. Or when he, for the umpteenth time, says ("It is not fit for man or beast to be out this night") and get splashed with snow in the face each time. Simple, but effective comedy.

It is a rare combination of slapstick, dialog driven farce, and detail (check out his sled-dogs) jokes. It is hard to put a label on it, but it works.

If you stumble across it, watch it!

"It Ain't A Fit Night Out For Man Nor Beast!" (But plenty of laughs!)

[redryan64 · 10/10 · 12 June 2014]

BEING THE SECOND of the great four 2 reelers that Mr. Fields had contracted with Mack Sennett to star in in that 1932-33 period, it is probably the most controversial. As far as its acceptance with movie goers, it was strictly a hit or miss proposition. You either loved it or hated it. Much like today's American political spectrum, there was no middle ground.

CRITICS ASSAILED THE "cheapness" of its use of stock film of wild elk as being unrealistic. Apparently those scribes missed the spirit and central; theme of the film. Beyond that of making laughter permeate movie houses wherever it played, the movie playfully spoofed Victorian mores, attitudes and those old stage plays that dramatized such social attitudes.

IT DOES APPEAR that latter day audiences were more easily persuaded to enjoy it for what it was; much more so than their Depression Era counterparts. All whom we have talked with as viewers in recent times tend to rave about the movie's offbeat storyline, stagy appearance and clever dialog & song.

IN THE PROVRERBIAL nutshell, Mr. & Mrs. Snavley (Fields & Rosemary Theby) relate to local Yukon Mountie (Richard Cramer) the story of how their son Chester (George Chandler) went wrong, turned to a life of crime and was subsequently sent to prison; all after drinking his first glass of beer. The story is related in song and verbal narrative to others as the long suffering parents await Chester's return; after having been released from the Penitentary, his sentence having been completed.

THE STORY REACHES an unexpected, albeit an extremely comical one, when the parents reveal their true feelings at film's end. When this is achieved, so ends what may well be the most off beat comedy short in history. That's it!

THE SPOKEN WORD throughout is filled with Fields' verbal gems, such as: "The City's no place for Women, but Pretty Men go thar! (there)" "I've got to go and milk the Elk!" and (when a highly fatigued Chester returns home and offered a bowl of soup by his mother)"That's my soup, Ma!"

ONE PARTICULAR PIECE of information came to us some time later. Concerning the song that Fields sings about Chester's fall from grace, it is central to the whole story and serves to bring it all together in the end. We had always assumed that it was also a Fields' original; but, alas no! Several years ago, we heard an old recording of the very same lyrics on Chicago Radio, WFMT.98.7, on its Saturday night's THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL; which is 3 hours of Folk, Show Tunes, Off Beat Comedy, etc. (The usually Classical Music station often refers the long running program-ever since 1955-as being their "Weekly Abhoration!")

Not a fit not out

[larcher-2 · 2 August 1999]

Not a fit night out for man nor beast; so we have to learn a moral. Specifically, don't go 'round breaking people's tamborines. And, if you do steal bonds, don't go 'round chucking them in the river. Fields as absolute nihilist, which only goes to show that the philosophers are just playing at it. Every dog is mighty good with mustard.