Peter Canavese
2004-05-04 13:12:00 UTC
In the greater Marx canon...a relatively minor effort, but after a slow, expository start, the film slowly, steadily makes a case for itself as a fine comic adventure.
In the greater Marx Brothers canon, A Night in Casablanca is a relatively minor effort, but after a slow, expository start, the film slowly, steadily makes a case for itself as a fine comic adventure. Warner Brothers famously declared war on Groucho over the use of "Casablanca" in the title; in a series of letters, Groucho retorted with logic ("What about 'Warner Brothers'? Do you own that too? You probably have the right to use the name Warner, but what about the name Brothers? Professionally, we were brothers long before you were") and, eventually, full-bore absurdity. Asked more than once to detail the plot, Groucho eventually replied that he would play "Bordello, the sweetheart of Humphrey Bogart" (irony alert: Warner now distributes this United Artists film).
The real plot of A Night in Casablanca is narrowly more sensible, revolving as it does around a Nazi-treasure MacGuffin. Count Pfferman (née Heinrich Stubel), an incognito Nazi with designs on the Hotel Casblanca, hides a tell-tale scalp scar beneath a precious toupee. In order to plunder the Nazi treasure hidden on the hotel grounds, Stubel has been offing the hotel managers and attempting to insinuate himself as a replacement (as the police chief puts it, "Round up all likely suspects"). Marx stalwart Sig Ruman (A Night at the Opera, A Day at the Races) gives Stubel a crisp neuroticism, punctuated frequently by the exhortation "Du schweinhund!"
On the other end of that shouting is Harpo Marx as Rusty, Stubel's personal valet. Chico Marx plays Corbaccio, who trades in the camel business for the bodyguard business when Groucho Marx's hotel manager Ronald Kornblow arrives to take over the Hotel Casablanca. Aside from the evil Count, Kornblow must make up his mind about femme fatale Beatrice Rheiner (Lisette Verea), a hotel guest who cozies up to both the Count and Kornblow. The less said about bland ingenues Charles Drake and Lois Collier, the better.
A Night at Casablanca suffers from poor scoring, some flat direction, and a sometimes cheap look, but its deficiencies melt away as the action quickens. The one-time hit "Who's Sorry Now?" (with lyrics by Bert Kalmar & Harry Ruby) injects a bit of music, but it's a weak-tea prelude to the more important contributions of pianist Chico (an idiosyncratic take on "The Beer Barrel Polka") and harpist Harpo, whose lovely version of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 plays out incongruously in a shadowy crawlspace.
Groucho still gives as good as he gets, ready with innuendo and non sequiturs. Referring to Verea, he purrs, "If I go, that's the way I want to go." Harpo has some wonderfully weird prop comedy, and reinvents with Chico his whistly charades act from A Day at the Races. A late-arriving comic highlight finds all three brothers farcically conspiring to undo the escaping Count's packing. The unconvincing and uncharacteristic action climax mostly disappoints, since it relies so little on the brothers' talents. Though not as consistently funny or fast-paced as other Marx outings, A Night in Casablanca produces plenty of jubilant comic moments all the same.
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