SKATETOWN, U.S.A. (1979): DISCO DRECK

This bell-bottomed crud features a series of nearly-tolerable dance numbers, frustratingly disrupted now and again by a pathetic and threadbare plot. I won’t waste your time or my brain cells by trying to conjure a synopsis. There’s some blather about a roller disco competition, I think. You won’t care; I certainly didn’t.

The script comes from Nick Castle (Michael Myers in the original Halloween). Castle, a talented filmmaker with far superior credits, needs Skatetown, U.S.A. promptly stricken from his record. The cast is a mixture of teen heartthrobs and the reanimated carcasses of former stars. No one can be bothered to act. They’re far too busy cashing their paychecks. TV Land viewers will recognize Scott Baio (Chachi from Happy Days) and Maureen McCormick (Marsha from The Brady Bunch). This also marked the film debut of Patrick Swayze, whose strong performance presages his brighter future. 

Modern audiences may derive some masochistic pleasure from watching the roller disco dance scenes. Those numbers are stylishly choreographed before turning repetitive. The soundtrack overflows with many good tunes of the era. But if you don’t like Earth, Wind and Fire; McFadden and Whitehead; and Heatwave, be prepared to cover your ears… a lot. 

At best, Skatetown, U.S.A. is a peculiar time capsule for those of us who missed the disco craze. At worst, it’s a queasy trip back to the 70s, likely to induce motion sickness and kill off any nostalgia for that bygone era. Do yourself a favor and rollerblade away from Skatetown U.S.A. 

-T.Z. 

PAUL NEWMAN: HARPER OR ARCHER?

Before his name became synonymous with salad dressings, Paul Newman was one of the world’s greatest movie stars. In 1966, Newman brought to the silver screen the private eye Lew Harper in Harper, based on the novel The Moving Target by Ross Macdonald. Fans of Macdonald’s detective novels (myself included) recognize that Newman’s Harper differs greatly from Macdonald’s. The most conspicuous alteration being the detective’s surname. 

In Macdonald’s work, Lew’s last name was Archer, which the Canadian-born author chose as both a reference to his own astrological sign (Sagittarius the archer) and as obeisance to Sam Spade’s doomed partner, Miles Archer, in The Maltese Falcon. So what caused the seemingly arbitrary name change? It depends on whom you ask, but most likely it boils down to money and superstition. 

To fans of the hardboiled detective genre, Macdonald ranks among the Holy Trinity of authors, alongside Dashiell Hammett (The Maltese Falcon) and Raymond Chandler (The Big Sleep). Hammett essentially invented the form, Chandler furthered and refined it, and Macdonald elevated it. By introducing psychological realism, Freudian analysis, and philosophy to the mystery story, Macdonald is revered, even in academic circles, for applying traditional literary techniques to an often meretricious form. 

Screenwriter and novelist William Goldman, best remembered for The Princess Bride, brought Macdonald’s work to the attention of movie producer Elliot Kastner, who wanted to make a movie with “some balls”. Goldman wrote the adaptation of The Moving Target, the first Lew Archer novel, which he initially titled Archer. Paul Newman, hot from successes like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and Sweet Bird of Youth (1962), was chosen to play the empathetic gumshoe. 

According to Goldman, Newman had good luck with The Hustler (1961) and Hud (1963), and hoped another film with an “H” title would continue the trend. Goldman happily acquiesced his star’s superstitions, settling on Harper. “So we needed a different name,” Goldman wrote years later. “Harper seemed OK, the guy harps on things, it’s essentially what he does for a living.” According to other accounts, the name change came from producers, who only owned the movie rights to The Moving Target, not the other Archer books. 

In Harper, Lauren Bacall plays a wealthy woman who hires Harper to find her missing husband. Bacall’s presence deliberately homages her iconic performance as femme fatale Vivian Sternwood in The Big Sleep (1946). Despite positive critical reception and success at the box-office, a sequel to Harper toiled away in development hell for a number of years. Originally, Goldman wrote a follow-up based on the eleventh Lew Archer book, The Chill. That screenplay remains unproduced. 

Nearly a decade later, Newman as Harper finally returned to the screen in The Drowning Pool (1975), based on the second Lew Archer book. In this film, Harper helps a former girlfriend (played by Newman’s actual wife, Joanne Woodward) thwart a blackmailing attempt. Woodward suggested relocating the setting from Southern California to Louisiana, a choice considered heretical by most Macdonald purists. Part of Macdonald’s writing genius was his ability to create a sense of place. Santa Teresa, a fictionalized name for Santa Barbara, and the surrounding suburbs are so intrinsic to Archer’s character and Macdonald’s themes. That said, those unfamiliar with Macdonald’s work won’t sense the reverberations this relocation has on the narrative. 

Harper and The Drowning Pool are radically different from each other, both epitomizing the era of filmmaking in which they were manufactured. Harper oozes and reeks of 60s carefree nonchalance, complete with bikini glad women and their poolside gyrations. Harper treats its mystery with a sly smirk. The tonal atmospherics are jazzy, illuminated with psychedelic oranges and yellows. Harper feels more akin to the Dean Martin Matt Helm films (1966-1969) than anything reminiscent of Bogart, Hammett, Chandler, or Macdonald. 

The Drowning Pool arrived midway through the moody and broody 70s. A dour, world-weary and mournful aura permeates the film, more akin to The French Connection (1971) and Serpico (1972). The violence and the mystery lack Harper’s insouciant charms, shedding the nonchalance for paranoia. The Drowning Pool came out the same year as another post-Watergate P.I. movie, Night Moves (1975). Both films reflect the national anxiety of the time. Interestingly, both The Drowning Pool and Night Moves feature a teenaged Melanie Griffith, playing almost the same character.  

The Drowning Pool’s screenplay is credited Tracy Keenan Wynn, Lorenzo Semple Jr., and Walter Hill, though none of them seem particularly proud or pleased with the final film, a sentiment shared by critics and audiences. The Drowning Pool failed to match or surpass the success of Harper. However, I am probably the one person on Earth to prefer The Drowning Pool. Neither film really captures the brilliance and ingenuity of Macdonald’s work, but The Drowning Pool, despite the bone-headed move to set it in Louisiana, comes closer than Harper. Though both films are currently available to stream, you should seek out Ross Macdonald’s novels first. When it comes to Lew Archer (or Harper), even Paul Newman’s terrific acting pales in comparison to Macdonald’s hardboiled prose. 

-T.Z. 

SUPERMAN III (1983): THE ONE WITH RICHARD PRYOR

I don’t know if I watched Superman (1978) as frequently as I did Batman: The Movie (1966). It's pretty close. Not only one of my favorite superhero movies, Superman is one of my favorite films. The most poetic, lyrical, and majestic, an epic that ably soars through three distinct modes: the chilly Shakespearean Krypton, the pastoral Smallville, and the screwball mile-a-minute Metropolis, torn straight from a comic strip.

 

None of the sequels managed to capture the spirit and vitality of the original. In my little world, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987) played frequently on TV and I enjoyed its campy cheapness as a kid. As an adult, I know unquestionably it reaches the nadir of the Christopher Reeve series, though remains fun-in-a-bad-way. 

Many critics and viewers consider Superman II (1980) the best of the sequels. This borders on miraculous considering the diabolical and tense production. In short, Richard Donner was originally hired to direct and shoot Superman and Superman II simultaneously.  After completing the first and close to 70% of the second, Donner was fired from Superman II following a calamitous relationship with the producers, father-son duo Alexander and Ilya Salkind, and their producing cohort, Pierre Spengler. 

Richard Lester, best known for directing A Hard Day’s Night and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, replaced Richard Donner. Lester previously worked for the Salkinds on The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers. In order to secure directorial credit, Lester reshot much of Donner’s footage on the sequel. Because some Donner-scenes remain in Superman II, the film reflects a binary sensibility, mutated strands of Donner’s DNA and Lester’s DNA commingling.

Superman II was a hit, though not as financially successful as its predecessor. Nonetheless, Richard Lester returned to helm the follow-up. With Donner completely uninvolved, Superman III became the first time audiences witnessed Lester’s unfiltered vision for the Man of Steel. The same applies to screenwriters David and Leslie Newman. The Newmans predated Richard Donner’s participation on the first two installments. Upon Donner’s arrival, he brought in screenwriter Tom Mankiewicz to purge the Newmans’s scripts of the cartoonish, tongue-in-cheek tone. Without Donner and Mankiewicz, Superman III proffers a glimmer at what the original films might have resembled. And it doesn’t look good. 

After revisiting Superman III, I believe a more poignant and fascinating movie lurks off-screen, hinted to us with occasional glimpses. Every time we start to settle in, we’re spirited away and plunked down into the middle of a crummy, mediocre Richard Pryor movie. Legend goes that Pryor mentioned how much he enjoyed watching Superman II during an appearance on Johnny Carson. Wanting to capitalize on Pryor’s burgeoning movie stardom, the Salkinds and Newmans fashioned a part for Pryor in the third installment. This was a fatal error. 

Richard Pryor is the star of Superman III, not Superman, and that is the movie’s chief problem. Superman never serves as the focal point. A stranger in a strange Richard Pryor flick. Criminally underdeveloped, we never know what Superman/Clark Kent thinks or feels. We have no sense of what he wants or what he’s after. The movie seems uninterested in him, his life, goals, hopes, and dreams. What does Superman III care most about? The humorless slapstick antics of Gus Gorman (Pryor), a blue collar loser who discovers his knack for computers. He goes to work for a crooked businessman, Ross Webster (Robert Vaughn), whose goals of world conglomeration pit him (kinda, sorta) against the Man of Steel. The premise fails and falters. A much stronger one hides beneath. 

In the Smallville sequences where Clark Kent reunites with his high school crush, Lana Lang (Annette O’Toole), we encounter one of the film’s few shining lights. Annette O’Toole radiates and explodes off the screen as single-mom Lana, a woman who feels suffocated by small town life and dreams of dumping it all for Metropolis. O’Toole’s performance is believable, true, and charming. Her chemistry with Reeve feels genuine, more laidback, understated, and homespun than Reeve’s chemistry with Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane. Not better or worse, just a different vantage point and contrast. Too bad the movie shirks from taking the time to properly explore and dramatize Clark and Lana’s relationship. Instead, 80% of the movie gets wasted on Pryor. A talented performer and dynamite comedian, Pryor’s performance gets hobbled by a lame, turgid, and humorless script. 

What should the screenwriters have done? I would have focused more squarely on Clark’s return to Smallville after many years away. The film initially tees this premise up, but forgets the follow-through swing. Perhaps Clark returns to reconnect with his roots. Superman III mentions that Ma Kent died prior to the events of the film. Maybe Ma Kent’s death precipitated Clark’s need to reconnect with his past. What if Superman/Clark Kent became so consumed with city life and his saving the world (Metropolis and the planet at large) that he lost sight of his terrestrial homeland?  What if he discovers that the problems facing larger communities, like Metropolis, plague smaller ones like his hometown. Feeling disconnected from his terrestrial origins and true-self, Clark uses his relationship with Lana Lang to mend his broken roots. 

I would emphasis Clark Kent’s anxiety that Metropolis has in some way altered him. He is no longer the small town boy from Smallville: he’s changed and this revelation deeply troubles him. Superman III flirts with the concept of Superman undergoing a deleterious metamorphosis. The most famous scene from the film concerns Superman literally splitting into a good self and a bad self. The memorable junkyard scene allows Reeve to play both Clark Kent and Evil Superman. Despite the scene’s brevity, it serves as one of the few strongpoints of the film, thanks mostly to Reeve’s performance. I would tie this concept — a physical split of Superman’s dichotomous selves — into Clark’s quest to re-discover himself through his sojourn to Smallville. Superman’s external fracturing could reflect the internal war Clark feels about his inner changes. The fight between the Supermans would then posses more sub-surface emotional weight. 

In Superman III, Superman/Clark Kent’s transition to the “Dark Side” is rushed and cursory. The screenplay offers no insight into his reaction to the onset of this transformation. When he begins to change, the resultant of ersatz Kryptonite created by the villains, the audience is provided no insight into how Clark feels about his burgeoning sickness. Instead, the screenplay leaves the audience with innumerable unanswered questions: how does Clark feel about this? Is he scared? Is he worried? Does he try to uncover the source of this change? Does he take any action or make any attempts to save himself? The writers never try to answer or dramatize these concerns and lingering questions. When the literal splintering does occur, the moment feels jerky and jarring because so little emphasis has been placed on it (and because it mostly occurs off-screen!) 

Superman’s downfall has the potency to serve as the narrative lynchpin. Instead, the writers use Evil Superman as a seasoning. He deserved to be a main ingredient, perhaps even the main antagonist. It would be a logical progression from the previous film, where the Man of Steel willfully abandons his powers and deals with an external threat (General Zod). Now an internal threat (himself), causes Superman to loose control of his powers. Superman as his own villain might have benefited the film both thematically as well as visually. Certainly, any antagonist would prove stronger and more memorable than Ross Webster. 

The scheming businessman’s “evil plans” feel too general and nonspecific to come off threatening. They concern something to do with destroying Colombia’s coffee crop and holding the planet’s supply of oil hostage. Webster is a frustratingly ineffective antagonist. He’s a weak substitute for Lex Luthor (Superman III is the only Reeve-Superman without Gene Hackman) and not a physical nor intellectual threat for the Man of Steel. 

The choice of villain becomes even more egregious when one discovers the original plan. Before Donner was fired, he imagined a third installment featuring the classic Superman villain, Brianiac. Even Ilya Salkind originally envisioned a more cosmic-setting, featuring Brianiac and another Superman baddie, Mr. Mxyzptlk. But budget concerns watered the supervillains down to a preening businessman and Richard Pryor. Make note, Pryor deserves no castigation for the misguided film. He certainly didn’t write this garbage. 

Superman III marks the downward slope of the 70s-80s Superman films (some will argue they still never fully recovered). The film is worthwhile for only a few scant reasons: Reeves is splendid as always and his acting as Clark Kent might even surpass his Kent portrayals in the previous two films. O’Toole nearly steals the movie from everyone else. Further more, several scenes contain the spirit of classic Superman comics, notably the scene where Superman rescues workers from a chemical planet fire. But in a Superman movie, every scene should feel like a Superman story. Instead, Superman III is a subpar Richard Pryor movie that Superman should desperately fly far, far away from. 

Make sure to check out the Superman III episode of Obscure Obsessions: A Pop Culture Podcast. Available to stream on 5/26/23. Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and wherever you listen to podcasts. 

- T.Z. 

EVERY MOVIE (AND TV SHOW) I WATCHED IN APRIL 2023

I maintain a daily record of every movie & TV show I watch and every book I read. I am the sort of viewer who gets into moods for making his own movie marathons. I call them “kicks”, mostly successive nights of movies that have some element in common (an actor, a director, a genre, a theme). Looking back at my list, April brought several. See if you can pick them out. 

I bolded my favorites, titles you should write to see or read. 

(Movies: capitalized, TV shows: lower case. Books/short stories: lower case in quotes w/author’s last name -- listed the day the book was completed). 

4/1 THE 39 STEPS 

4/2 DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: HONOR AMONG THIEVES 

4/3 SABOTAGE (1936), Nigel Slater’s Simple Suppers 

4/4 BABY HUEY’S GREAT EASTER ADVENTURE, Nigel Slater’s Simple Suppers, “The Dain Curse” (Hammett) 

4/5 THE LADY VANISHES (1938), SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT, The Mandalorian 

4/6 ATRAGON 

4/7 ROADGAMES, BMX BANDITS 

4/8 RODAN, THE GETTING OF WISDOM, “Nevada Gas” (Chandler) 

4/9 WRONGFULLY ACCUSED, GODZILLA (1954) 

4/10 GODZILLA RAIDS AGAIN, THE X FROM OUTER SPACE, “The Writer As Detective Hero” (Macdonald) 

4/11 THE WAR OF THE GARGANTUAS 

4/12 THE HARVEY GIRLS, BATMAN: MASK OF THE PHANTASM, BATMAN & MR. FREEZE: SUBZERO, The Mandalorian 

4/13 LAND OF THE PHARAOHS, CONFESSIONS OF A NAZI SPY 

4/14 HARPER, THE DROWNING POOL

4/15 MR. MAGOO, CARAVAN OF COURAGE: AN EWOK ADVENTURE 

4/16 PAT AND MIKE, FRANKENSTEIN VS. BARAGON, EASTER PARADE 

4/17 CARAVAN OF COURAGE: AN EWOK ADVENTURE, “I’ll Be Waiting” (Chandler) 

4/18 THE SEA OF GRASS, SUMMERTIME 

4/19 ON GOLDEN POND, The Mandalorian 

4/20 THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, ADAM’S RIB

4/21 FRANKENSTEIN CONQUERS THE WORLD

4/22 THE AFRICAN QUEEN, WITHOUT LOVE, “C is for Corpse” (Grafton) 

4/23 CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF (1958), SWEET BIRD OF YOUTH 

4/24 NOTORIOUS (1946) 

4/25 SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT II, THE WIZARD OF OZ

4/26 FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT 

4/27 MARNIE, MONKEY BUSINESSMEN (short), “D is for Deadbeat” (Grafton) 

4/28 THE BIRDS, Secrets of the Elephants, Silver Surfer

4/29 THE WINGS OF EAGLES, BRANNIGAN, Secrets of the Elephants, Silver Surfer 

4/30 HONDO, Silver Surfer, Secrets of the Elephants 

-T.Z. 

3 SHOWBIZ BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS

HARPO SPEAKS! (1961) by Harpo Marx and Rowland Barber

Never read Harpo Speaks!? Go buy yourself a copy. Consider this immensely entertaining and absorbing autobiography essential reading if you’re a fan of show business and comedy. A non-negotiable read if you’re a Marx Brothers fan. 

Harpo Marx was, of course, a member of the legendary comedy team, the Marx Brothers, known for their anarchist style and iconic films, including Duck Soup and A Night at the Opera. Born into absolute poverty, the Marx Brothers endured the most squalid conditions in the worst corners of early twentieth century show business. But they persevered, rising to become headliners in vaudeville, the toasts of Broadway, major movie stars, and finally comedy deities.

All the brothers (and yes, they were actual brothers) were preternaturally gifted and all lived extraordinary lives, Harpo in particular. At the age of 8, he dropped out of school; he joined a singing act despite being incapable of singing; he hobnobbed with the wealthy elites and the greatest intellectuals of the Roaring Twenties (despite himself failing the 2nd grade twice); he became the first westerner to perform in the Soviet Union; and he befriended Salvador Dali. 

Harpo Speaks! is a laidback and conversational compendium of classic showbiz stories and anecdotes. Anyone interested in vaudeville, New York in the 1920s, and the Golden Age of Hollywood will find much pleasure and amusement from this terrific read. But actually, Harpo Speaks! never feels like reading. It’s more akin to sitting down beside Harpo as he regales you with stories of his unique life. Who wouldn’t want that?  

20TH-CENTURY FOX: DARRYL F. ZANUCK AND THE CREATION OF THE MODERN FILM STUDIO (2021) by Scott Eyman 

Pugnacious and truculent immigrant/theater owner William Fox founded the Fox Film Corporation in 1915 (in Fort Lee, New Jersey). After the 1929 stock market crash, Fox lost control of the company, which would soon merge with Darryl F. Zanuck’s Twentieth Century Pictures. Thus 20th-Century Fox was born. 

Scott Eyman’s elliptical and breezy study focuses on Zanuck, the prototypical movie tycoon. The cliche adjectives apply appropriately to him: tough, domineering, tyrannical. But also a real genius at movie-making, with a knack for editing and discerning public taste. During his tenure (and under his close guidance) the studio produced such notable films as The Grapes of Wrath, All About Eve, and 42nd Street. 

Zanuck’s story plays like a real-life Shakespearean tragedy. Zanuck spent years grooming his son Richard (future producer of Jaws, The Sting, and many other hits) to succeed him as studio boss. But when the elder Zanuck felt threatened by Richard’s growing power, he fired his own son. 

20th-Century Fox follows the studio’s origins with William Fox, through the Oedipal conflict between the Zanucks, and culminates with the company’s acquisition by the Walt Disney Company in 2019. While I appreciate Eyman’s overall brevity, I do wish he went into more depth. He very briskly sums up the company’s ultimate fate and glosses over Zanuck’s truly repelling show-boating during World War II. That aside, Eyman provides many pointed insights and his book serves as a great primer on Zanuck and the company formerly known as 20th Century Fox. 

ERNEST LEHMAN: THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (2022) by Jon Krampner

It’s a historical fact that the contributions of screenwriters are undervalued. Just look at Ernest Lehman. After cutting his teeth writing magazine fiction, Lehman became one of the most coveted screenwriters of his or any time. The man wrote the screenplays for North by Northwest, The Sound of Music, West Side Story, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and many more. Few screenwriters ever had (and ever will) that level of success.

But because most of his screenplays were adaptations, his work was dismissed. His substantial revisions to remold the source material into cinematic form (cutting scenes, reordering songs, fashioning dialogue to transition coherently into musical numbers) were snidely denigrated as merely “typing”. Thanks in part to public feuds with Edward Albee and Mike Nichols, Lehman remains an underrated writer to this day. 

To complicate matters, Lehman was an anti-social, vain, and childish man. He was intractable with his collaborators and cold toward his own children (Lehman didn’t want his wife to have children because he didn’t want to share her with them). These peculiar attributes make this a fascinating life to read about. Jon Krampner renders a fully rounded portrait of an incredibly talented writer and churlish man who never fully got his due.  

While I could have done without Krampner’s disruptive editorializing, I found this biography very engaging and informative, one I will likely visit again. Most superlatively, this important book provides a fuller record of Hollywood’s history, told from a point of view so frequently disregarded: the screenwriter’s. 

-T.Z. 

DELIRIOUS (1991): A LESSER-KNOWN (AND LESS GOOD) JOHN CANDY MOVIE

I love discovering a movie that I never heard of, particularly if it features one of my favorite actors. I recently stumbled upon a 1991 comedy called Delirious, starring the late great John Candy. By this point in Candy’s career, his major movie successes were behind him. Tragically, he would be dead in a few years. 

In Delirious, Candy plays Jack Gates, a soap opera writer. After a car crash, he wakes up trapped in the world of his own show. 

Why haven’t you heard of Delirious? Because it’s not very good. This is a pallid entry on Candy’s illustrious resume. The movie plays like a turgid episode of those crappy Twilight Zone reboots, especially those “comedic” episodes. The screenplay wrings the one joke from its one-note premise early and the comedic conceit—a “real person” living in the exaggerated realm of a soap opera — rapidly wears thin. 

Hardcore John Candy lovers need only watch. Like many of his lesser films, Candy’s endearing performance elevates the decaying material, filling in the story’s many cavities. Candy’s acting towers over everything and everyone else, despite an excellent group of actors supporting him. They include Mariel Hemingway, Dylan Baker (Dr. Conners of the Tobey Maguire-Spider-Man films), and Charles Rocket (Max and Dani’s dad in Hocus Pocus). 

Notably, Delirious is one of the few movies directed by Tom Mankiewicz, better known as the screenwriter of several Bond films, such as Diamonds Are Forever and The Man With the Golden Gun. Mankiewicz also provided uncredited writing contributions to Superman: The Movie (directed by Richard Donner, who produced Delirious). 

Delirious will never rank highly on the CVs of anyone involved. But if like me, you cried when John Candy died, then you will certainly want to check this one out. 

-T.Z.

REMEMBERING EDWARD BROPHY ON HIS 128TH BIRTHDAY

I have a new obsession. His name is Edward Brophy. Don’t beat yourself up if that peculiar moniker fails to ring a bell. I never heard it until a few months back. I was watching some old movies on TCM. Over the course of several nights, Brophy randomly appeared in three of them. While not exactly spooky, it certainly felt odd. But odder still, I knew him from somewhere, knew him very well, but couldn’t place where. 

Brophy’s looks were distinctive: short, balding, round, with bug-eyes and flaring nostrils. All requisite features for a character actor. But his voice caught my attention. High-pitched, raspy, and mixed with a heavy Brooklyn accent. It sounded slightly reminiscent of Curly Howard (whom Brophy looks like a cousin to). An unmistakable and singular vocal tone. A voice I heard many times before and knew from childhood. A voice that seemed to always exist in my memory. But damn it, I didn’t know from where. 

Of the three films I watched those nights, I spotted the voice first in It Happened on 5th Avenue (1934), a movie I’ve written about before. Here he plays a cop who finds people living in an abandoned mansion. Then a second night, he played Joe Morelli, a gangster in The Thin Man (1934). Both of these movies I watch once a year, but only this time did I perk up so specifically for Brophy. 

The next night — when I felt certain some conspiracy was underway — he appeared in a comedy I was watching for the first time: Larceny, Inc (1934), starring Edward G. Robinson. Parodying his iconic tough guy roles, Robinson plays a gangster who plots to bust into a bank vault by buying the next door luggage store. Brophy plays one of Robinson’s flunkies. Of the three films, this one gives Brophy the most screen time. He is hilarious perfection as the blundering Stooge-like henchman, a role he performed many, many times with natural aplomb. A character type that he seemed physically designed to play. 

Born in New York City on February 27, 1895, Brophy appeared in some minor movie roles before working behind the scenes as a second-unit and assistant director. While serving as a production coordinator on Buster Keaton’s The Cameraman (1928), Brophy became a last minute replacement for an actor who failed to show up one day. Keaton so enjoyed Brophy’s performance that he worked with him on four more features. 

With the skill to play both comedic and dramatic parts, Brophy turned into an established character actor, usually cast as dim-witted gangsters and cops. Of his many movie roles, he acted in Freaks (1932), Naughty Marietta (1935), and Mad Love (1935). If you can spot him, he has a small role in Frank Capra’s classic, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939). But where did I know his voice from? His most famous (though uncredited) role as Timothy Q. Mouse in Disney’s Dumbo (1941). 

Brophy would have turned 128 years old today. He died in 1960 during the production of John Ford’s Two Rode Together (1960). We often remember and tribute those actors whose names appeared above the titles, and whose devastatingly good looks continue to entrance us beyond their deaths. But it’s equally important to love, praise, and  honor actors like Brophy. Those many who never achieved the same level of stardom, but who nonetheless deserve a little obsession as well.  

I know I will continue to peruse TCM, watching and waiting to spot Brophy and hear the wonderful and unrivaled voice, 63 years after his passing.  

-T.Z.