Gaining prominence during The Great Depression, it is no secret why the silly, farcical slapstick comedy of The Three Stooges was a hit with audiences – as their crazy antics onscreen were able to give those watching a short respite from their complicated, downtrodden lives.
Signing on with Columbia in 1933, the trio of nyuksters we all now know (Larry, Curly and Moe) became ‘short film’ icons in 1934 (prior to this, it was Ted Healy and His Stooges), continuously developing new projects (sometimes with Shemp or others) until their last in 1970 (their stint at Columbia ended in 1959 with their 190th feature) – an impressive run to say the least.
Their first short of 1937 (and twentieth overall), Grips, Grunts and Groans (a very Stoogey title) finds the impoverished triumvirate riding the rails. Fleeing after getting the better of a pair of railroad police, they find themselves in a wrestling and boxing club, somehow befriending a behemoth named Ivan Bustoff (Harrison Greene). Run by the mob, the gangsters have placed a whopping bet on their wrestler.
Hiring The Stooges to watch their investment (as he loves to drink), Bustoff takes them out for a high society supper. Turning their backs for a second, they see the giant mixing a drink. Trying to stop him, he exclaims that it is not alcohol, but “a little bit of tequila, vodka and cognac”, which Curly stupidly gives him the blessing to drink.
More than drunk, and having been inadvertently bashed over the head by three dumbbells (and I’m not talking about The Stooges), Moe and Larry insert Curly, a decent lookalike (after they add facial hair to the man), into the ring to fight for their lives. Will Curly be able to win the fight, taking out the professional wrestler and saving them from the gangsters?
Screenwriter Clyde Bruckman (Buster Keaton’s co-writer and co-director on The General) adapted the screenplay from Searle Kramer and Herman Boxer’s story, placing The Stooges in one of their entertaining, troublesome situations. Featuring many of their patented routines, you’ll find them attempting to flee through a barred window, lose a fight to a boxing dummy as well as try the old untied shoe gag. At one point, when Curly is heading in to spar with a boxer at the gym, he confidently shows his arm, asking Moe to “feel that muscle”. Going directly for his most impressive muscle, Moe slaps his stomach and dryly replies, “pretty good”. Another example – as the trio drag the wrestler from the restaurant, drunk out his mind, they accidentally pull his pants off, then, the owner decides to slam the door on Bustoff’s head before fully extricated from the doorway.
Their second short of 1937, Dizzy Doctors, begins with Larry, Curly and Moe sleeping in the same bed. As the alarm rings at 11 A.M., Moe promptly wakes up while the other two remain in reverie. Frustrated, he awakens the dozy duo, proudly exclaiming, “you sleepy heads, look at me, wide awake, 11 o’clock”. It is reminiscent of the sleep related joke uttered by Ted in Seth MacFarlane’s 2012 feature. Curmudgeonly Curly complains about being forced to make breakfast for them, “oh, I don’t know why we’re married – why can’t our wives get our breakfast?”, to which Moe clarifies, “our wives can’t get our breakfast and work at the same time” – exemplifying their loafing ways.
Forced out of the house by their significant others to find work (removing their pajamas, their suits are on underneath) they stumble into a job as salesmen. Asked to move the next great health care product, Brighto – “Brightens old bodies”, they completely mistake it as a cleaner and problem fixer. . . as Larry peddles it, “if you have a knicknack with a nick in it, we’ll knock the nick outta the knicknack with Brighto!”. Upsetting cops and influential figures after their product burns through their clothing and car paint, they are forced to duck and dodge a variety of disgruntled individuals. Upon discovering what it is meant for, they try to pawn the item off on sickly individuals in a hospital. Will they be able to sell the bottles and make some dough, or will they fail miserably?
Taking hold of an idea that actually happened quite often in the nineteenth and early twentieth century, a bottle of supposedly do-all medicine that could cure any ailment (some favourite real examples: Snake Oil Liniment, Doc Meriwether’s Miracle Elixir, Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills For Pale People, Boschee’s German Syrup), Albert Ray’s screenplay based on Charlie Melson’s story puts the boys in all sorts of shenanigans. For instance, while in the hospital, they come upon a patient who is bedridden. When asked what’s ailing him, they are told it is the most painful of diseases – dandruff. Rubbing copious amounts of ointment on his head, they remove the dandruff. . . and the hair as well.
*** As a side note, to give you an idea of what Boschee’s German Syrup contained, the supposed throat and lung cure was a mix of alcohol, laudanum (morphine, codeine, opium) as well as several other hard hitting ingredients. Though it made them feel better, it may not have been getting to the root of the problem. ***
There is also some sharp dialogue here. Their slacking ways are best exemplified by Curly, who explains their working woes, “we looked for a job one day last year. . .there isn’t any!”. But, you certainly don’t want to mess around with any of their wives, as they throw out insults like, “and that goes for you too, you weasel-faced porcupine”.
Two entertaining little forays into the repertoire of The Three Stooges, Grips, Grunts and Groans and Dizzy Doctors succeed at slapping the funny bone. It will not appeal to those who have never enjoyed the ruffian antics of the threesome, but at nineteen minutes each, they will surely provide a fast paced entertainment for those into Larry, Curly and Moe. So, sound the bell, enter the ring, and take in a swig of these engaging short films, they will surely cure your frown.