Kerri Battles the AFI’s Top 100 — #85: A Night at the Opera

Each week, I check the AFI list to see what’s on deck. Each week, I’d see A Night at the Opera and cringe. I wasn’t familiar with the title, and, judging by that alone, I figured it had to be some crusty, black and white “classic” romance where some poor Cinderella type gets her one fairy tale night out on the town. This week, as it moved into the on deck circle, I realized it was actually a Marx Brothers film. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so relieved to be wrong. Until now, I’d only ever seen one Marx Brothers film in my life (Duck Soup, up for battle in about 6 months), but that one film was enough proof for me that their legendary status is deserved. Their comedic genius lives on for good reason. A Night at the Opera is just another example of why.

Trying to succinctly explain the plot of a Marx Brothers movie is nearly impossible and practically pointless. Still, I’ll try. Ostensibly, the movie centers around Rosa, the leading lady of an Italian opera company, her boyfriend Ricardo, a lowly chorus man with big dreams, and the diva star tenor intent on having Rosa for his own, Lassparri. Chico plays Ricardo’s best friend and manager, Fiorello, while Harpo portrays Tomasso, the much-abused wardrobe assistant to Lassparri. Groucho ties it all together as Otis B. Driftwood, a scheming swindler intent on having his way with wealthy widow Mrs. Claypool’s vast fortune. When Mrs. C begs Otis to introduce her to polite society, he suggest that she donate to the New York Opera Company and introduces her to its owner, Mr. Gottlieb. Gottlieb woos Lassparri away from his current company with a deal to earn $1000 a night with the New York Opera Company. Lassparri, in turn, selects Rosa to join him as his leading lady in the Big Apple. Mrs. Claypool, now financially invested in the company, and Otis, deeply invested in Mrs. Claypool’s finances, join the party on their cruise back to New York. As Otis is finally shown to his laughably small state room and begins to unpack his obscenely large steamer trunk, he finds Fiorello, Tomasso, and Ricardo have stowed away inside. This is where the fun really begins.

The above description is wildly misleading and doesn’t even begin to create an accurate idea of what really occupies the roughly 90 minutes of A Night at the Opera. That’s partly because I know spending thousands of words explaining Marx Brothers bits is insulting to the trio’s brilliance. Mostly, though, it’s because the plot itself is completely irrelevant. There is no high concept story here. The plot exists solely to provide some semblance of reason and context to the Marx Brothers’ antics. It’s there to explain why the brothers and their fourth are in the world’s smallest state room as the ship’s staff cram in on top of them one by one.  It’s there as an excuse to have Harpo sit in the orchestra pit and play a trombone with a bow or dress as a gypsy and mess with the dancers on stage as they try to perform. It’s the backstory for why Groucho and Chico are negotiating a contract to begin with, but it has nothing to do with why it’s so priceless to watch them tear off each and every clause along the way. Without the plot, we’d be watching one-off sketches that were just as hilarious. The Marx Brothers only gave us a plot so they could tie all these fantastic bits together with a single cohesive theme and release it as one feature-length film.

 

The supporting cast is just as superfluous. That’s not to say that these people are bad actors or gave poor performances, but rather that their sole purpose within the film is to be mere playthings for the Marx Brothers to use. Honestly, these people could have been giving the comedic performances of their lives and I never would have noticed.  They’re there to facilitate — or just be — a classic Marx Brothers punchline. The brothers are labeled as slapstick, but I don’t think that’s quite right. It feels wrong to lump them into the same category as shitty Chevy Chase pratfalls or anything involving Chris Kattan because these aren’t cheap gags for cheap laughs. The comedy is definitely physical, but there’s a subtlety to their boisterousness. Their timing and pacing are impeccable, creating a perfect balance that makes it seem perfectly logical that Harpo should clock Lassparri over the head with a mallet (twice) in one scene, then play a beautiful harp piece in another. A Night at the Opera is a clever and well-plotted ode to the ludicrous that, based on my weak knowledge and strong opinions of the subject, audiences wouldn’t see from Hollywood again until someone finally gave Mel Brooks a camera.

I can’t argue against A Night at the Opera appearing on the list. Hell, I can’t even argue against the Marx Brothers earning 2 spots from the AFI. There’s a reason why people still know their names more than a century after they began their lengthy careers in Vaudeville. Truly good comedy is hard to come by and the pop culture hive mind makes sure it sticks around when we do. It’s why people still laugh at Ghostbusters or Blazing Saddles or Some Like It Hot. Human nature doesn’t change enough in eight or nine measly decades for society as a whole to suddenly find this utterly devoid of funny:

— Kerri Smith