ZEPPO: THE RELUCTANT MARX BROTHER by Robert S. Bader (Applause)
This is a revelatory book, achieved through painstaking research (see: Four of the Three Musketeers: The Marx Brothers on Stage by the same author) and the participation of Zeppo Marx’s two sons and other family members and friends who were close to him. Getting close to Zeppo was no easy task, as we quickly learn. The youngest of the celebrated Marx Brothers, he was shoehorned into their vaudeville act against his will, put on salary instead of earning a share of their ever-rising salary and given thankless roles in their first five movies. After deciding to leave the act in 1934 he determined not only to make good but to outdo his siblings in every way—especially when it came to money. A bold and reckless gambler, he made and lost countless thousands of dollars, but as a businessman and inventor he accumulated millions. Bader has unearthed previously undocumented information and reached many surprising conclusions. Zeppo’s dealings involve everyone from studio chiefs to notorious underworld figures. Some of this is seamy, to say the least. He also confirms what we’ve read elsewhere, that off-stage Zeppo was arguably the funniest Marx Brother of them all. This fascinating book is not so much a show-business saga as a character study of one unique (and often misunderstood) individual. I guarantee you’ll never look at him the same way again.
This biography has at least one quality that sets it apart from many books I read every month: good writing. Kearns, who gave us the long-awaited bio of actor Lawrence Tierney, turns now to the long-neglected “third Stooge.” In so doing he overturns much of the accepted history of the Three Stooges’ lives and careers, especially as recounted by Moe Howard in his autobiography and augmented by interviews given late in life by Moe and Larry Fine. I am not the only author who will have to revise what I have written about the Stooges and their frenemy Ted Healy. There is barely an anecdote from the past that Kearns hasn’t skewered, with substantive backup from newspaper articles from the 1920s onward. Whether maliciously or not, Moe Howard tried to minimize his older brother’s contribution to the act—before and after joining the team. A highly readable piece of film scholarship, Shemp! is a welcome addition to any comedy devotee’s library.
The authors have been working on this hefty volume for more than a decade, and it shows. I never dreamt I could learn so much about a studio I thought I knew inside and out. By focusing on the forgotten men of Disney’s golden age they have not only brought to light the inner workings of that studio but shone a spotlight on men whose contributions to great animated films have never been fully appreciated. Figures who were just names in the credits—Ben Sharpsteen, David Hand, Burt Gillett, Hamilton Luske, Wilfred Jackson, to name a few—are made real and tangible through Peri and Docter’s exhaustive research and first-hand interviews. In the truest sense of the word, they are animated and brought to life on the printed page. By scrupulously sifting through gossip and rumors to get to the nature of each individual Peri and Docter have done a great service to Disneyphiles for all time. I devoured this book and can’t praise it highly enough.
This irresistible and beautifully designed book is a treat for anyone who wishes he or she could step into a time machine and experience Hollywood as it was in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, filled with colorful restaurants, nightclubs, theaters and novelty stores—many of them bearing eye-catching neon signs. Audacious design elements were brought into play to attract customers, and thanks to Kinkert’s informational captions I now understand where many establishments were located and how they reflected the neighboring businesses. (I never realized that the fabled Hitching Post movie theater, which showed nothing but Westerns, stood right across the street from the palatial Pantages Theatre.)
Having written a foreword to this book I won’t pretend to be unprejudiced about its quality. As the co-author of Mouse Tracks, the exhaustive saga of Walt Disney Records, Greg Ehrbar brings his knowledge and enthusiasm to charting this animation studio’s history, with an emphasis on music and recordings inspired by its many TV series. It is a broader topic than I imagined, forgetting the impact that H-B had on pop culture in its first few decades. This will serve as an invaluable reference guide and a happy reminder of albums and singles springboarded by Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera.
POVERTY ROW ROYALTY by Thomas Reeder (Split Reel)
One wouldn’t expect the saga of PRC, the bottom-of-the-barrel Hollywood production company, to warrant or deserve the extensive treatment it receives in this hefty paperback book. But aside from skimming through endless B-movie synopses I learned a lot about the business of staying in business, which the brothers behind this company managed to do for decades. Sigmund Neufeld served as producer and executive, while his brother Sam directed much of their output, adopting the last name of Newfield. The cooperation the author received from the Neufeld family was invaluable, I’m sure, in providing context for this expansive chronicle. If you’ve ever sat through Edgar G. Ulmer’s Detour you know that a meager budget has nothing to do with the quality of storytelling in a B picture. PRC made Westerns for less than $20,000; you don’t have to consult an inflation chart to recognize that even in the 1940s that was dirt cheap. I didn’t realize that the Neufelds also produced several early TV series that I remember watching as a kid, like Captain Gallant of the Foreign Legion, Ramar of the Jungle, and Tugboat Annie.
If you’re a Disneyphile you’ll want to read this well-researched book, written by a man who put in a fair share of time working at the Burbank studio. Anderson was story supervisor on The Emperor’s New Groove and Brother Bear, and directed Meet the Robinsons and Winnie the Pooh. He has filled a gap by chronicling the Ron Miller years, a time when the company’s founder was gone but most of his staff continued making films and television shows asking themselves, “What would Walt do?” We now know that it was only after shaking that feeling that the studio could experience a rebirth, as seen in Don Hahn’s excellent documentary Waking Sleeping Beauty. There is so much information to impart that the narrative is somewhat abrupt at times, but like other Disney fans I’m grateful that Anderson spoke to so many participants and eyewitnesses on the record.
This is the third scholarly book to emerge from the Hyperion Historical Alliance, a group comprised of dedicated Disney scholars and researchers. With access to private letters, drawings and photos—many of which have never been utilized before—the three authors have compiled an impressively thorough survey of Walt Disney’s travels to Central and South America in the 1940s. One can chart the activities of Walt and the coterie of artists, writers and “idea men” he brought along on this expedition, which gave birth to Saludos Amigos, The Three Caballeros and other projects. If the devil is in the details, then this is a devilishly informative volume, handsomely designed and printed.
