Walking back to the subway after last week's screening of The Sting, I passed a restaurant on 7th and Grand called Bottega Louie. It was nearing eleven at night and I noticed people still in there. They had a full bar and everything. So tonight after work, as I usually do on Last Remaining Seats Wednesdays, I got downtown early to grab a bite. In the spirit of trying out one of the innumerable restaurants you've got downtown, I hopped into Bottega Louie. I'd never seen a bar with Firestone Pale Ale on tap, so naturally that was my beverage of choice. Those beer glasses are huge! I'm sure it was more than a pint. Just two was all I needed to achieve bliss. As for the food, I always order pork chops if I see it on a menu, which is almost never. Rosemary potatoes on the side. It was quite a treat, a perfect pre-show meal.
Speaking of treats, that's what the L.A. Conservancy had in store for us tonight. They screened the Abbott and Costello comedy Buck Privates at the Million Dollar Theatre.
This was a treat for a few reasons. For starters, it was at the Million Dollar Theatre, one of those palatial movie theaters on Broadway. Built in 1918 by Sid Grauman for, yes, a million bucks (before he built the Chinese and Egyptian theaters over in Hollywood), it's one of the oldest of the twelve theaters on Broadway. Secondly, I'd never seen Buck Privates. I remember watching old Abbott and Costello stuff on TV as a youngster back in the eighties and being tickled to death by it. I'm trying to think... One of the movies I remember is that horror movie spoof with Wolf Man and/or Frankenstein. Anyway, Buck Privates was new to me, and that's sort of the bonus with these Conservancy screenings, is that they usually involve classics that have somehow fallen off my movie radar. The third cool thing was all the pre-show stuff they had. If you've read any of my other Last Remaining Seats posts, you'll know that there's usually a half-hour or more's worth of stuff before the movie starts. Usually it's a lecture or a Q&A or something, but tonight they pulled out all the stops with this sort of song and dance act with people decked out in the attire of the forties, when Buck Privates was made. They even had a World War II newsreel from 1941, which they showed as if it were current. You talk about getting the audience into the spirit of things! I'm not sure the Conservancy could've done a more thorough job.
Before the entertainment started, Tony Valdez from Fox-11 came out and gave a very impassioned speech about the film. For you non-L.A. folk, Tony's a general assignment reporter for L.A.'s Fox affiliate. He's in his sixties or seventies and has been a reporter his whole life. And he's an L.A. native. According to the Fox site, he went to L.A. City College and Cal State Northridge. As you might expect from a veteran news guy, Tony was a terrific speaker. He said that at this same time sixty-eight years ago, specifically June 3, 1941, Buck Privates was playing at the Cameo down the street. The Cameo's even older than the Million Dollar. It opened in 1910. In fact, it might be the oldest theater on Broadway. It hasn't been restored yet. A natural storyteller, Tony related his own personal memories of going to the movies on Broadway as a youngster, when all twelve theaters were in their prime, and a double feature cost something like a dime. You believe that? Anyway, if Buck Privates was still playing in June of '41, that meant it must've had some staying power. It opened on January 31 of that year. How often do you see that these days, a comedy still going on the big screen four or five months later? Movies come out on DVD sooner than that.
When Tony was done, this Army band from Fort MacArthur marched out onto the stage. Fort MacArthur's an old Army base in L.A. Harbor that was active from World War I until the mid seventies. Today it's a museum, and the Conservancy has been leading the charge to keep the whole complex in tip top shape. The band that came out was officially called the Fort MacArthur Officers Orchestra. They performed various numbers with a group of scantily clad babes called the Satin Dollz Pinup Dancers. They weren't that scantily clad, not by today's standards, although I'm sure it was racy sixty years ago. Nonetheless they were pretty adorable. Before the show started, a few of them were out in the lobby greeting people and handing out programs and whatnot, as were a few of the Army musicians.
The guy emceeing this whole pre-show extravaganza was named Maxwell DeMille. I'm not sure if that's his real name or what. Like Charlie Phoenix at last week's screening of The Sting, Maxwell DeMille was decked out in a suit in the style of the forties, and he spoke in that kind of clipped rapid-fire cadence that nowadays we only see in old movies. Before the band and the Satin Dollz came out, Max stood at an old fashioned mic at the front of the stage and pretended he was doing a radio broadcast. With him was one of the Satin Dollz. Together they did a sort of mock radio salute to the armed forces.
The Satin Dollz did two numbers, one toward the beginning of the pre-show, and then one more toward the end. The meat of the pre-show was a set by the Fort MacArthur boys. And then when the lights finally went down, they showed a ten-minute news spot called News of the Day Volume XIII, no. 230: Cavalcade of 1941! It's interesting to note that when Buck Privates came out, the U.S. hadn't entered World War II yet. That didn't happen until Pearl Harbor in December of that year. Nonetheless it appears our military was geared up for action well ahead of time.
I'm sure you've heard of Abbott and Costello, right? Even if you've never seen any of their movies, you probably recognize the names. Their most famous comedy routine was "Who's On First," which is one the best word games you'll ever hear. Seriously, it never gets old. And it became so legendary that Abbott and Costello are honored (not inducted, but honored) in the baseball hall of fame in Cooperstown. They're the only non-athletes there to have that distinction. "Who's On First" was one of the first things they did together when they teamed up in Jersey in 1938. It was a radio bit they did, and continued doing for years. They even performed it in person for FDR.
When they teamed up in '38, Bud Abbott, the skinny one, was already in his forties. Lou Costello was ten years his junior. Yes, they were both from Jersey, but when Universal signed them to a movie contact in 1940, they obviously had to relocate across the country. Buck Privates is their second film, but it's the one that put them on the map. They ended up doing a good three dozen films together over the next twenty years. That's almost two per year for two decades. Has anyone in the modern age kept up such a pace, let alone a comedy team? Their last film together was 1956's Dance with Me, Henry!, right after which they went their separate ways. Costello passed away from a heart attack three years later, just four days shy of his fifty-third birthday. His wife died later that same year. She was in her late forties. Their daughter also ended up dying just shy of fifty, in the late 1980s. Weird, huh? As for Abbott, he lived into his eighties.
Lou Costello has a poignant connection to Los Angeles, to East L.A. specifically, which is where he settled down. Only a couple years after Buck Privates, his infant son fell into the backyard pool and drowned just before his first birthday. Costello wasn't home at the time, but his wife was. Apparently he blamed her for the kid's death until their dying days. He never divorced her. They were strict Catholics. But the marriage was effectively in the can. Perhaps it was the heartbreak that killed him in the end. It's kind of amazing that he managed not to lose a beat after this tragedy. He'd do the "Who's On First" routine with tears in his eyes sometimes. Today East L.A. has the rec center that he built in the wake of his son's death. It's called the Costello Recreation Center and includes the Costello Pool. He wanted to make sure any and all kids had access to swimming lessons so no other parents would have to endure what he did. The rec center still stands today. It's about five miles east of downtown. In fact, just this past year the L.A. Conservancy rescued it from being demolished and replaced by condos and apartments.
I don't want to give away everything about the film itself. Actually there isn't much to give away. Like all the best comedies, the plot's pretty simple. Abbott and Costello play Slicker Smith and Herbie Brown (even the names make you laugh!). They're a couple of street peddlers who sell neckties out of a suitcase. Then the cops bust them, led by this one officer named Michael Collins (played by former Olympic wrestler Nat Pendleton). Slicker and Herbie haul ass into this movie theater...which turns out to be an Army recruitment center, a small detail they don't pick up on until they've inadvertently enlisted. The plot thickens when they get to the base and find out their drill instructor is none other than Michael Collins.
This film sort of has two parallel plot lines. The first is the funny one, with Herbie and Slicker trying to stay out of trouble. As you'd expect if you've seen Abbott and Costello before, it's Costello's Herbie who bungles everything while Abbott's Slicker tries to undo all the damage. The other plot is the more dramatic one. It has to do with this wealthy young playboy named Randolph (Lee Bowman) and his valet Bob (Alan Curtis). They're enlisting at the same theater at the same time. Only in their case, they actually mean to enlist. Randolph takes none of this seriously. He thinks he's only going through the motions and that dear old Dad will use his clout to keep Randolph from actually serving. Dad has other ideas. He thinks his boy's a sissy and thinks the Army will toughen him up. Bob's already a tough bastard and resents having to work for Randolph. The tension between Randolph and Bob heightens yet more during boot camp when it turns out that Bob's old friend Judy (Jane Frazee) is one of the camp hostesses. Randolph is immediately smitten with Judy.
Randolph eventually chickens out when the troops split up into teams for a shooting match. He decides he wants to hang out with Judy. Naturally everyone else hates him for this. So for the rest of the film Randolph has to find a way to redeem himself AND score with Judy AND earn back Bob's respect. See what I mean? Randolph is far more the protagonist of this picture than the Abbott and Costello characters.
The Andrews Sisters were terrific. I hadn't heard of them before. They were these three sisters from Minnesota who formed a song and dance act. Patty, Maxine, and Laverne Andrews were only in their early twenties when Buck Privates came out, but their fame grew afterward, throughout the forties and fifties. As with Buck Privates, they usually appeared in movies and TV shows as themselves. In Buck Privates they performed four different numbers, scattered throughout the film. Each and every time they finished, the audience in the Million Dollar applauded. Those sisters really were something. They stole all four of their scenes. Why haven't I heard of them before? Not old enough, I guess. Too bad. The Andrews Sisters are yet another example of the old saying: They don't make 'em like they used to.
Six years later, in 1947, Abbott and Costello did a sequel to Buck Privates called Buck Privates Come Home. It takes place right after the war. They come back from Europe and try to resettle into their old lives as necktie salesmen. Michael Collins goes back to being a cop. Herbie tries smuggling a French orphan into the country. Hilarity ensues. Even though he lived another twenty years after this film, this was Nat Pendleton's final film.
