April
4, 2022
The Mikado – 1960, US
You never really get over your first love, especially if what are you most known for later in life is not it. In the case of Grouch Marx, he was known for his absurdity, wit, and whimsical musings onscreen, and yet, Marx started out a singer. He had a beautiful voice, and when desperate economic times came, he was pulled out of school and sent on the road as part of a traveling musical act. To say it did not go well would be an understatement, though this was no fault of his own; he just happened to have hitched his fortunes to two unscrupulous performers, both of whom ran off with his earnings, leaving him penniless and alone in cities he hardly knew.
Fame
came later, first from his years with his brothers in Vaudeville and on
Broadway, and later from his slapstick antics in a series of wacky films, also
with his brothers. He would sing in many of these film, yet his numbers were
known more for their puns and absurdity than musical complexity (think “I’m
Against It” from Horse Feathers and Lydia the Tattooed Lady from 1939’s At the Circus). Did audiences look
forward to his musical numbers the way later ones kept their eyes peeled for Hitchcock’s
brief appearances? It’s hard to say. However, I can imagine audiences being
amazed by the sheer number of witticisms flying by them at break-neck speed and
being perhaps a bit frustrated when some of them didn’t have the decency to
stay long enough to be properly understood. By the time he made The Mikado, which aired on television as
part of the Bell Telephone Hour, he was 70 years old and wealthy. He could have
been easing into retirement. And yet…
The
following quote is attributed to Marx’s daughter, Melinda Marx Leung: “It was
my father’s lifelong dream to play the role of Ko-Ko in The Mikado.” Thank goodness he got his wish then – or at least part
of it. After all, when an opera clocks in at two hours and forty minutes and
your production of it lasts just 52 minutes, it is really accurate to say that
you have done the musical? It’s a bit like saying that you played Ahab in Moby Dick when all you really did was a
two-person scene during a night of amateur theater. On the other hand, can you
conceive of anyone in today’s Hollywood who would perform in an opera? Jennifer
Hudson perhaps, but that’s where my list pretty much ends.
So,
just what is The Mikado, and why
would Marx have been so drawn to it? Well, for one, despite its name and
setting, it is not an opera about Japan. In truth, nothing in it - neither the
characters nor the setting – bares any resemblance to Japan. Instead, it is a
satire on British society and institutions that just happens to use Japan as a
stand-in for the British Empire. The characters’ names, far from being
representative of the Japanese culture, are examples of English baby-talk. For
example, the lead character is named Nanki-Poo, a fun riff on the word handkerchief. And Nanki-Poo’s love
interest? She goes by the name of Yum Yum.
In
the opening scene, we learn that the leader of Japan, the Mikado (Dennis King),
has made flirting a capital crime, an act that is intended to mock British
regulations far more than Japanese society, which I’m not sure either Gilbert
or Sullivan knew much about. I believe it is this aspect of the opera that drew
Marx to it, for he must have been deeply appreciative of Gilbert and Sullivan’s
ability to use art to poke fun at authority and convention. After all, he and
his brothers had practically made a career out of it.
But
I digress. This is a review, after all, and as such, the central question I
should be answering is this one: Is it any good? The short answer, thankfully, is
yes, and much of its success is due to the fact that Gilbert and Sullivan saw The Mikado as a comedy, and comedy –
especially when it involved poking fun at authority - was Groucho’s bread and
butter. As Ko-Ko, he seems aware of the absurdity even when curveballs are
lobbed his way. In the film’s opening moments, we learn that Ko-Ko, a former
tailor, was convicted of flirting and thus sentenced to death. However,
authorities, no fan of the Mikado’s edicts and reliance of capital punishment,
decide to make the next man scheduled for execution the new High Executioner,
reasoning quite logically that one cannot execute himself. (It’s dangerous, we later learn from
Ko-Ko, and besides suicide is a capital
offense.) One guess who the new executioner turns out to be.
For
some unexplained reason, Ko-Ko is also scheduled to marry Yum-Yum (Barbara Meister),
which comes as a shock to Nanki-Poo, who upon arrival, thinking that her
guardian (oh, that’s Ko-Ko also) has already been executed, quickly announces
his intentions to pursue her hand in marriage. Hearing of his feelings, as well
as his later intention to commit suicide due to his dashed dreams, Nanki-Poo
(Robert Rounseville) makes a deal with Ko-ko. Seeing as the Mikado has just
threatened to eliminate the position of High Executioner if no execution takes
place within a month (in the opera, he threatens to reduce the city of Titipu
to the status of a village), Ko-Ko agrees to let Nanki-Poo marry Yum-Yum,
provided that he agrees to be the one executed, after which Ko-Ko promises to
do the honorable thing and marry the recently widowed Yum-Yum. (Yes, this is
really the plot.) Suffice to say, nothing goes right with the plan. And did I
mention that Nanki-Poo is really the son of the Mikado and is fleeing an
arranged marriage? Believe it or not, this is all revealed in the first 19 minutes.
Ko-Ko
is always close enough to break in with a witty comment or a life-saving idea. Characters
break the fourth wall, and lines such as “You can see how being buried alive
puts a damper on things” are said with deadpan seriousness, much like Leslie
Nielson and company would later do to great effect in the Naked Gun movies. Only Ko-Ko seems aware of the ludicrousness of it
all, and this may be why his songs differ so greatly from those of the other
characters. I cannot say with any certainty that Marx improvised any of his
lines, but if he didn’t, it’s amazing how well the role suited his brand of
humor and established personality.
We
no longer have anything resembling The Bell Telephone Hour, and that’s a shame,
for television can be so much more than 30-seconds of mindless distraction.
Today, we have shows like The Masked
Singer, in which celebrities don costumes and dance and sing. These shows
may be entertaining, but are they inspirational? Will audiences walk away from
them wondering what else a writing team created, or decide to give a form of
music that had previously not been on their radar a chance? Groucho knew and
appreciated Gilbert and Sullivan, and he used his star power to bring them to a
medium that they likely couldn’t have contemplated the existence of. In doing
so, he brought them to a whole new audience, an accomplishment that continues
today whenever a fan of the Marx Brothers decides to watch The Mikado because it stars Groucho. I know this because he’s the reason I watched
it, and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful. (on DVD from VAI)
3
and a half stars
*The Mikado was originally broadcast in
color, but sadly, no color copies exist today. There are also times,
particularly during a few musical numbers, when the audio is not clear.
You never really get over your first love, especially if what are you most known for later in life is not it. In the case of Grouch Marx, he was known for his absurdity, wit, and whimsical musings onscreen, and yet, Marx started out a singer. He had a beautiful voice, and when desperate economic times came, he was pulled out of school and sent on the road as part of a traveling musical act. To say it did not go well would be an understatement, though this was no fault of his own; he just happened to have hitched his fortunes to two unscrupulous performers, both of whom ran off with his earnings, leaving him penniless and alone in cities he hardly knew.
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