Sons of the Desert (1933) brings Laurel and Hardy
into the fold of a fraternal organization that, with manly promises of fidelity
to the club, gives them courage to deceive their wives and escape for a holiday
at the annual convention without them.
This is my entry in the “Make ‘Em Laugh” blogathon hosted by
the Classic
Movie Blog Association. Have a look here
for more great bloggers.
The hijinks are, of course, frequently hysterical, and it
comes as a surprise that comedies such as theirs that, based on simple human
foibles and predictable reactions, must launch from an ironic
sophistication. Though their characters have
childlike mentality, their creators are masters of the human condition.
Their first entrance, arriving late at the lodge meeting and
picking their way through the audience to find a couple of empty chairs
together down front is a great example of how even a simple situation becomes
increasingly complicated and funny.
The human reactions may be predictable; the action is
anything but. Gags roll on one after
another with often surprising outcomes.
Just the opening routine with them finally settling down to their seats
ends with the loud and unexpected slap of their wooden chairs together when
Stan pushes his chair up against Oliver’s, painfully trapping Ollie’s
hand. Their timing, as always, is
something amazing.
The elaborate gags are the point of the movie, of course;
the plot is just a mere skeleton on which to hang the next gag.
The boys want to go with their lodge brothers to the
national convention in Chicago, but their wives won’t let them. They live side by side in a duplex. Hardy’s wife is played by Mae Busch, who appeared
in more than a dozen Laurel and Hardy films, often as Hardy’s wife. Here she is at her tip-top shrewish best,
frequently pelting the squirming Hardy with every pot and pan in the house.
Stan is married to Dorothy Christy. Ollie tells Stanley he must be a man and not
ask his wife’s permission to go to the convention, but to firmly tell her
so. We find when they arrive home, Stan’s
wife is out duck hunting and won’t be back until late. As funny as this is, it’s made better still
by the nonchalant announcement from Mae Busch that she won’t be back until late
because she is duck hunting, and the boys take it as a matter of course.
Of course, his wife is out duck hunting. Stan sits with Mae and Ollie until his wife
comes home because he is locked out, and he contents himself by eating their wax
fruit. Later, when Mae is frustrated
with Stan, she yells, “You wax eater!”
When Dorothy returns with a brace of ducks and her shotgun
over her shoulder, we may feel worried for Stan, yet it turns out she has
easily given her consent to Stan going to his lodge convention. Weaponry or no,
she has a soft heart. It is Ollie who
has the problem getting out of the house.
Mae wants him to take her to the mountains for a vacation.
Made in the depths of the Great Depression, it’s interesting
to note that there is no reflection of hard times in this adventure. Their duplex apartments are modest, but they
seem to have all the up-to-date furnishings and household equipment. We don’t know what occupations Stan and Ollie
have, but they are apparently well off enough to take vacations. Especially when Ollie fakes an illness which
requires him, he says, to go to Hawaii for a rest cure. Hawaii?
About the only hint of the Great Depression is the NRA “blue
eagle” at the beginning and end of the movie.
He moans and groans, his feet planted in a tin tub of hot
water, while Mae worriedly fusses over him.
The doctor who comes, played by Lucien Littlefield, is actually a
veterinarian Stan engaged for the ploy.
Ollie asks Stan why he got a veterinarian? Stan replies with noble egalitarian tones, “I
didn’t think his religion would make any difference.”
Mae is fooled, and allows Ollie to go on a cruise to
Honolulu for his health. She doesn’t go
because she gets seasick, but is okay with Stan going along to take care of Ollie.
Of course, they don’t go to Honolulu, they go
to Chicago for their convention, take part in a rousing parade, and enjoy the convention
carousing with overbearing party animal Charley Chase, from the Texas contingent. He is a practical joker who slaps rear-ends
with a paddle and shouts approvingly, “That’s a darb!” when someone cracks a
funny remark. He is also Ollie’s
brother-in-law, but doesn’t know it because he’s never met him. Charley calls his sister as a prank, and puts
Ollie on the phone, who is surprised to hear his wife’s voice, and nervously says,
“Goodbye, Sugar,” as a matter of habit.
Ty Parvis sings “Honolulu Baby,” as part of the floor show
(which Stan and Ollie pick up on and you will never get out of your head for
the next day or two), and Charita Alden is a principal dancer showing off the
alure of a grass skirt. They may not
have made it to Honolulu on the ship, but Honolulu came to them.
The boys return home, but there’s trouble. The boat on which they were to return from
Honolulu flounders at sea, is sinking and passengers must be rescued. The wives are frantic with worry, horror-stricken
down at the steamship office to await word of survivors.
The boys discover the news when they see the
dramatic headlines in the newspaper, and they know they’re in for it.
The girls actually discover the truth when they see a newsreel
that shows Stan and Ollie mugging in the convention parade in Chicago.
When the girls come home, the boys’ first instinct is to
hide, so they head for the attic. When
they bed down up there, another gag is introduced that plays out over and over,
when Stan says they will be like “two peas in a pot.” Ollie corrects him, “Two peas in a pod…Po-DUH.” Later on, when Mae Busch says the word “pot,” Stan will properly correct her, “Po-DUH.”
They boys will eventually end up on the roof in the pouring
rain, fearful of Stan’s duck-hunting wife with the shotgun. When they are caught and must explain
themselves, Ollie’s coy marching his fingers up the doorframe, a trademark move
with Oliver Hardy to finger fiddle, and even his use of the theatrical
chestnut, “That’s all there is, there isn’t anymore,” (see
this previous post on Ethel Barrymore for the explanation to that one),
does nothing to save his hide. Mae is
furious and bent on killing him via chucking all the pots (or po-DUHS) at him.
Stan, unable to bear the strain, breaks down as only he can,
and whimpers a squeaky-voiced confession.
His wife marches him home, but there is no pot-throwing or shotgun
firing; she forgives Stan and we see him all cozy with a box of chocolates
because he has confessed like a good boy.
There’s a lot of action for a film that’s only just over one
hour long. Sons of the Desert, the name
of their lodge, became the name of the international Laurel and Hardy fan club,
with “tents” all over the world bearing names reflective of their films. The Night Owls was a branch of this brotherhood
in western Massachusetts, where a gentleman named Hal Stanton presided and also
hosted a local television show programming Laurel and Hardy shorts. This is where I became a fan as a small
child. Have
a look at this post and its comments for more on the Sons of the Desert lodges.
And stop by the CMBA site for more blogs in the “Make
‘Em Laugh” blogathon!
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From Cherry Ames, to Meet the Malones, from Dave Dawson to Kitty Carter - Canteen Girl, the Silent Generation spent their childhood immersed in geopolitical events through the prism of their middle grade and young adult books. From the home front to the battlefield, these books are a window on their world, and influenced their hard-working, conformity-loving generation.
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