There is no doubt that Roberto Benigni will forever have his name etched in the annals of film history after his Academy Award winning film Life is Beautiful – which took home Best Foreign Language Film, Best Score (for Nicola Piovani), and brought forth a most special moment when Benigni climbed atop the seats of the theatre to accept his Best Actor award. Yet, it is a bit of a shame that some of his pre-1997 works are lesser known outside of his native Italy. Case in point, the comedy Johnny Stecchino, circa 1991. Co-written (along with Vincenzo Cerami), directed and starring Benigni, he plays the titular character as well as a near identical lookalike of the man (who is actually our protagonist). Here’s a quick translation – Stecchino means toothpick. So, to explain, Dante is a charming yet rather simple bus driver (who is also trying to pull a disability scam with the government), when one day, he luckily. . . or perhaps unluckily, almost gets run into by a beautiful woman named Maria (Nicoletta Braschi – Benigni’s real life wife) – who seems to be immediately intrigued by the man. As she would exclaim – “Santa Cleopatra!”
Like some sort of quirky hybrid of a Dr. Seuss story and an Abbott and Costello comedy sketch transported to the dark alleyway of a film noir, 2019's Word on the Street is a five minute foray into the wacky world of English wordplay. Written and directed by Austin Hillebrecht and Sean Parker, the former plays flat cap wearing Bugsy, a low-level ruffian who has heard that the word on the street is “implication”. Meeting up with fellow criminal Rat (Conor Eifler), the fedora wearing fella claims that it is “insinuation”.
In 1962, one film changed everything. No, not a big budget spectacle, or an Academy Award winner (for those of you interested, the Best Picture was West Side Story), but rather a low budget action B movie, which somehow helped spawn one of the most successful (and longest running) film franchises of all-time. . . you guessed it, Dr. No. Soon, From Russia with Love (1963) and Goldfinger (1964) were released – proving that Dr. No was no anomaly. . . rather, this was an all out craze. And, with millions of cinemagoers flocking to see them, other studios soon sought to capitalize on this unique combination of an action spy picture with cheeky comedy by developing their own Bond knock-offs.
If, for whatever reason, you are looking for some advice on kissing, then Good Boys, directed by Gene Stupnitsky, is probably not where you should be starting your search. Written by Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg, and produced by Seth Rogen, it is like Superbad for tweens. . . instead of a triumvirate of friends looking for alcohol to impress as they head to a party (hoping to finally get laid), this story finds three buddies on a quest to learn how to kiss before going to their first kissing party – they must also try to track down a new drone after destroying one. This is Good Boys narrative in a nutshell.
A slick con artist, an unscrupulous priest and a ruined aristocrat walk into a house. . . sounds like a joke; it kind of is – for this is the lead-in to Mel Brooks’ 1970 comedy The Twelve Chairs. Loosely based on the 1928 Russian novel of the same name (written by Ilf and Petrov), this film is arguably the black sheep of Brooks’ filmography, a more artsy piece that is less laugh out loud funny, and instead, more of a thinking man’s funny – for instance, as a character wanders the Soviet streets at the beginning of the film (set in 1927), he passes two different street signs, the original: “Czar Nicholas II Avenue”; the new one, “Marx, Engels, Lenin & Trotsky Street – with a line running through the final name” – if you know your history, Nicholas and his family were executed during the Russian Revolution of 1917, while the name Trotsky has been eliminated, as in the very year this story is set, Joseph Stalin ran him out of the country and into exile – in 1940, Stalin would have him killed in Mexico City by way of an ice axe (I almost had a really good ice pun for this, but it slipped my mind). . . fear not, Brooks works some cheesy humour into the story as well.
Before Kinky Boots, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Tootsie, even before Some Like It Hot, there was the original cross-dressing comedy, 1941's Charley’s Aunt (directed by Archie Mayo). Based upon the famed stage play by Brandon Thomas, this was actually the third filmed version of the farce – and they say Hollywood is remake happy today! No better place to set such a premise than at the stuffiest of Universities, Oxford, the madcap premise is only further exaggerated by its time – 1890's Victorian England.
What do boxing promoters have to do in the Middle East? Other than throwing a he-jab or two (I know, I know, a touch lame), absolutely nothing, unless you are caught up in another one of Bud and Lou’s zany misadventures. . . namely, Abbott and Costello in the Foreign Legion (1950). Directed by Charles Lamont (his first of eight features with the comedy team –the efficient filmmaker was not overly excited to head these simple projects) and written by frequent A&C screenwriters’ John Grant (every one except Lost in Alaska and Dance With Me, Henry), Martin Ragaway and Leonard Stern (both wrote three), the story finds two boxing promoters, Bud Jones (Bud Abbott) and Lou Hotchkiss (Lou Costello) – a rare time the pair used their first names, losing control of one of their star wrestlers, Prince Abdullah (William ‘Wee Willie’ Davis) – who is infuriated that he is slated to lose his next match, returning home to Algiers instead of taking the loss (but not before roughing up poor Lou – who did all of his own wresting stunts in the film – leading to a wrenched arm socket and a stretched tendon).