A NIGHT AT THE (SOAP) OPERA – Act III
When last we met, leaving our three stowaways on the good ship Lollipoop, Tomasso had cut the beards off of three Russian aviators, and he, Fiorello and Ricardo had assumed their identities….or so you were left to assume. But you don’t have to take my word for it….
Having escaped from the speakers’ platform outside City Hall with plainclothes detective Henderson in pursuit, the stowaways and Driftwort take refuge in a nearby hotel, where they have a flat and retire. In the a.m., they have room service send up their breakfast.
Just when you thought the opening night of the opera season would never arrive, it does….and so does Driftwort, only to learn that he has been fired by Missis Playpool for associating with riffraff (how riffraff got into the act, I’ll never know). Not to be denied, Driftwort (together with Tomasso and Fiorello) goes to Gottliebchen’s office, locks him in a closet, replaces Gottliebchen as Missis Playpool’s escort, and delivers the opening night address, which is the same as the day address, but not as easy to see:
Is there no end to this madness? For the answer to that question, you will have to return for Act IV. Until then….
Ashley, and 2 others are discussing. 
The Observation Post 
calmkate 5:34 am on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
thanks for finally revealing why my father would Never let us watch the Marx Bros … but I enjoyed a good giggle. They are obviously cousins to Abbott and Costello 😎
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mistermuse 7:39 am on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
You’re welcome, Kate. A & C’s heyday started when the Marx Brothers’ best years ended in the 1940s. A & C may have been the ‘successors’ to the Marxes, though in my opinion, their films didn’t reach the level of madcap originality and wit of the Marx Brothers. But all due credit to A & C for one of the classic routines of all time, WHO’S ON FIRST?
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masercot 9:23 am on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
I’ve repeated Chico’s story of crossing the Atlantic to people just for the blank stares I get.
“We getta close… a maybe a three feet… and what dya think, we run outta gas and we gotta go back…”
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mistermuse 11:58 am on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
Ditto Ashley’s comment. Eighty-five years and repeated viewings later, still as funny as ever.
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Ashley 9:39 am on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
Crazy, crazy, crazy! Only the Marx Brothers could get away with such idiocy! It’s good to laugh just for the hell of it!
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mistermuse 12:00 pm on February 15, 2020 Permalink |
Hell — I mean, Well — said, Ashley.
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barkinginthedark 3:00 am on March 24, 2020 Permalink |
‘O for the lyrics and lyricists of yore.
They don’t make too many like them anymore
Since ol’ Yip and Porter and Brecht
Said adieu
The clever and worldly are far ‘tween and few.
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mistermuse 11:50 am on March 24, 2020 Permalink |
You’re not a bad “lyricist” yourself — though setting your lyrics to music might stand no more than a “Ghost Of A Chance” (a 1933 hit composed by Victor Young, lyrics by Ned Washington)! 😉
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barkinginthedark 9:54 pm on March 24, 2020 Permalink |
i almost forgot what a terrific crooner Der Bingle was. thanks MM. continue…
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mistermuse 10:29 pm on March 24, 2020 Permalink |
I love the early Crosby’s voice. After about 1935, he gradually changed from being the emotional crooner of that 1933 clip to being, in my opinion, a less appealing and more commercially oriented (for lack of a better term) singer — still good, but not “terrific.” I own many recordings from both stages of his career, and the difference is obvious.
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