The Bank Dick (1940)

W.C. Fields isn’t as timeless as one would like.  Overall, vaudeville humor hasn’t aged well, either.  Still, Fields was a devilishly delicious deadpan comic who knew how to keep a gag running. He was greatly aided in this endeavor by his own clever writing.  Who better to convincingly deliver funny lines than the person who wrote them—I’m sure Woody Allen would attest to this.  The Bank Dick (1940) is a product of Fields’ comedic wit (director Edward F. Cline was just along for the ride). Oh, pay no attention to the name listed in the writing credit either, Mahatma Kane Jeeves--it was one of Fields’ many pseudonyms (evidently Gandhi was on his mind).  The story follows the Fields’ blueprint: an easy-going, imbibing man just wants to be left alone but finds himself hampered by domestic disturbances and inconvenient chance meetings.  What follows is a 74-minute study in Fields’ own unique brand of comedy.

Usually the best parts of Fields’ films deal with his character being mistreated by his ungrateful family—which is mostly filled with women: wife, daughters and an occasional cranky mother-in-law.  However, this theme isn’t really the crux of The Bank Dick. Yes, his aptly named character, Egbert Sousè, has a nagging wife (Cora Witherspoon as Agatha), an unpleasant mother-in-law (Jessie Ralph as Mrs. Brunch), and two daughters, one being a terror (Evelyn Del Rio as Elsie Mae) and one being stupid (Una Merkel as Myrtle).  Yet, unlike some of his other films, the family doesn’t figure heavily in the story.  They are used intermittently to show how unappreciated Mr. Sousè is, but otherwise they don’t really bring much to the table.  I personally would have liked to have seen more of Jessie Ralph’s belittling mother-in-law. She had some of the best lines in the entire film.  Here are two of my favorites:

Myrtle: I'll bet that's Og!
Mrs.Bruch: Mmm, he's got her bettin' now. She never gambled 'fore she met him.

Myrtle: What's a six-letter word meaning "embezzlement"?
Mrs.Brunch: Prison.

I definitely think they should have used her acerbic tongue more and less of Una Merkel'’s Myrtle, who is engaged to Og Oggilby (Grady Sutton), one of her father’s unfortunate co-workers and co-conspirators. Still, stupid characters often play the much needed role of straight man (or woman, let’s be PC!), so I suppose she serves her purpose.

There are a few random gags in the film, another trait of a Fields’ production, that I could have done without.  His stumbling into the role of film director after the actual director goes on a bender wasn’t very funny to me.  Perhaps he was trying to make a inside dig at someone (perhaps himself, LOL!), but I just found it completely useless to the story.  Another thing I could have missed was a few of his sojourns into the local watering hole.  Yet, I must admit that the name of the establishment, the Black Pussy Cat Café, is pure Fields gold.  Who else in 1940s Hollywood would have dreamed up such a name and got away with it?

All of the best things about this movie revolve around his work as an unqualified bank dick. What security guard in his right mind would tackle a small child holding a toy gun?  Sousè does, though I doubt he was in his right mind, and the result is laugh-out-loud funny.  When he asks the child’s mother if the gun is loaded, she replies, “No, but I think you are!” Who would think it was a good idea to buy $500 in bonds from a slickster (who says: “I want to show you I'm honest in the worst way”) he met at the Black Pussy and then convince his soon-to-be son-in-law to “borrow” money from the bank to buy them?  Sousè would—and he’d do it with a big grin on his face and rye on his breath.  Who would try to postpone the bank’s books from being examined by the wonderfully named J. Pinkerton Snoopington (Franklin Pangborn) by using food (or, in this case, liquid) poisoning?  Sousè would, and then he’d have another drink! 

What most people remember about this film is the extended road chase scene at the end of the film, where Sousè has to drive the getaway car for a bank robber.  The scene is reminiscent of the old silent chase scenes from the likes of the Keystone Cops. I’m not a big fan of slapstick chase scenes, but Fields gets off some great lines as the car slowly falls apart. A particular favorite barb is: “The resale value of this car is going to be nil after this trip.” I also got a hearty chuckle out of him handing the wheel to the robber when he was told to let the robber have the wheel.  It’s silly humor, but it’s smart silly humor.

While this isn’t my favorite Fields’ film (I prefer It’s a Gift) The Bank Dick has many enjoyable moments in it.  It is also a showcase for Fields’ comedic genius. 

Three Words on W.C. Fields’ Talent: It’s a Gift

W.C. Fields was a deadpan comedic genius. He became famous as a vaudeville performer in the Ziegfeld Follies and most of his films borrow from gags he performed on the stage. It’s a Gift (1934) relies heavily on a number of his revue staples, as well as from his 1926 silent film, It’s the Old Army Game. In Fields’ world everything was fair game when it came to comedy. He had an antipathy toward most things domestic and traditional—even the handicapped were not off limits, as witnessed by his treatment of the blind and deaf Mr. Muckle. These comedic traits made Fields a unique Hollywood performer—plus, he could act, write, and juggle (he was a master juggler). His gift for improvisation can only be compared to that of Steve Carell’s today. Yes, he had a bit of a drinking problem…so what, Mozart had this same issue and by all accounts he was a pretty good musician.
Director Norman McLeod was responsible for keeping Fields on track in It’s a Gift…he’d become an expert at dealing with improvisational ex-vaudevillians through his work with the Marx Brothers as well as his earlier films with Fields. The plot revolves around Harold Bissonette (Fields), a New Jersey grocer who hates his store, customers (especially Mr. Muckle, played by the hilarious Charles Sellon), neighbors, and family (especially his wife Amelia, played by the outstanding Kathleen Howard). Harold’s dream is to own an orange grove and ranch in California, and so when he learns that he may be inheriting some money, hope begins to seep into his mind. Never mind that his family has totally different ideas about where their newfound money might be used.

There a number of memorable scenes in this film. The first one is the bathroom scene, where Harold is carefully shaving with a straight razor while his daughter Mildred (Jean Rouverol) goes about her business as though he isn’t there. Several times she comes perilously close to hitting her father’s arm, thus helping him slit his own throat—metaphorically, that’s what a daughter can drive you to. After Mildred fully monopolizes the medicine cabinet mirror, Harold relies on a makeshift mirror on a light pull cord, which sways back and forth. Imagine trying to shave like that? Fields’ coming timing is superb…without the aid of much dialogue.

The second scene that stands out is the enormously funny grocery encounter between Harold and Mr. Muckle. Blind and deaf (he uses an ear trumpet) Mr. Muckle has a habit of breaking Harold’s glass door with his cane, which he wildly waves back and forth, and just about everything else that is encased in glass. It is side-splitting funny to watch him drop light bulbs on the floor while Harold tries to be as polite as possible. Later, once the tornado that is Mr. Muckle has left the store, we meet baby Ellwood (Baby LeRoy), his neighbor’s son.  Harold refers to him as blood poison, and for good reason: baby Ellwood is a holy terror who likes to throw things at Harold and play in molasses.

The third standout scene happens when Harold attempts to sleep on his porch. After listening to Amelia gripe about his plans to move to California for hours, Harold decides to sleep on the porch swing. Not only is the swing squeaky, but it is dilapidated as well. When he tries to lie down on it one of the chains break and he tries to sleep with his head on the ground and his feet in the air. Noisy delivery men, neighbors, and an imposing insurance salesman (T. Roy Barnes) also disturb his slumber, but it is baby Ellwood that is the real bedbug. Grapes and icepicks are his weapons of noise (and near death for Harold). If you don’t laugh when Harold confronts Ellwood with the icepick then you don’t have a sense of humor.

And, finally, the road trip California has numerous laugh-out-loud gags as well. The picnic scene on the private estate is highly comical, especially the gags with the can opener and statues. And, Amelia’s reaction when they reach the sun-parched land that’s supposed to be their orange grove is one of Kathleen Howard’s best scenes.

I really enjoy watching W.C. Fields. My favorite type of comedy is a sophisticated one, but I also enjoy deadpan and gag comedy as well. I don’t think there was a better deadpan comic during the early years of Hollywood than Fields. I once read that Louise Brooks (who worked with Fields at the Follies and in some early films) thought he was much funnier on the stage than the screen because his brilliance couldn’t be chopped up by a film editor on the open stage. It must have been a sight to behold, because his movies are pretty darn funny—imagine seeing him live without the constraints of censors.