My Little Chickadee

Man to W.C. Fields: "Is this a game of chance?" W.C. Fields: "Not the way I play it." While it may in hindsight seem like a no-brainer for W.C. Fields and Mae West to have been paired in a movie, the existence of My Little Chickadee (1940) actually owes more to another movie: Destry Rides Again (1939). It was the huge success of that film which convinced Universal to make another western comedy with two top stars, and Fields and West seemed the perfect duo. The two comic icons had spent the bulk of the 1930s at Paramount but never made a movie together there. Fields, however, had recently signed a contract with Universal and done the film You Can't Cheat an Honest Man (1939), while West had left Paramount a year earlier and was looking for a comeback. On paper it was a great idea to team these masters of double entendre and outrageous comedy; as a matter of practical reality, it caused significant creative problems. In the end, however, it resulted in profitability as well as some first-rate comedy scenes even if the picture itself isn't the best of either star's career. Trouble was inevitable because Fields and West had huge egos and were accustomed to being the sole leading player, and because each used quite divergent comedy techniques. Fields loved to ad-lib and was not particularly beholden to scripts; West honed her innuendos with precision and perfectionism. Complications began even before production. Fields wrote a draft of the script only to have Universal order a rewrite by Grover Jones, followed by another. Fields hated the changes and rewrote it himself. Then West wrote a version. The two stars were used to writing their own material and neither seemed willing to let go of the writing reins, though they were respectful to each other; Fields even sent West a note saying she had come closer than anyone to capturing his style on paper. In the end, they shared writing credit, though exactly what was written by whom remains murky. Humphrey Bogart, who was offered the part of the masked bandit ultimately played by Joseph Calleia, said: "I would read my lines at the end of which a note read, 'The following ten pages to be supplied by W.C. Fields.' Then I would read more of the lines followed with another note, 'The following ten pages to be supplied by Mae West.'" Fields' grandson and biographer Ronald J. Fields (W.C. Fields: A Life on Film) later offered this assessment: "So, who wrote My Little Chickadee? West or Fields? From Fields' original 'epitome' a logical conclusion can be drawn. Mae wrote her material, W.C. wrote his, and then they collaborated (meaning ad-libbed) in the scenes in which they both appeared. The plot, however, was most likely Mae's idea. Ms. West on the other hand gave her account of the authorship. It was inaccurate, but she maintained that she wrote all but a few of the final script's 135 pages. She claimed [production supervisor] Matty Fox told her that W.C. 'fought them and held them up' until they agreed to accord him co-author credit on the screen. Mae claimed she first saw the picture a month after release and learned only then about the screenplay billing." The cordial West-Fields relationship that existed in the writing phase diminished once shooting began. As director Edward Cline said, "I'm not directing them, I'm refereeing." Each star simply couldn't handle not being the center of attention. As a result, Fields half-jokingly insulted West between takes. West fired back in part by gaining the right to close the set if Fields ever showed up drunk. (West never touched alcohol.) One day, she later claimed, she actually did close the set. Supporting actor Dick Foran, however, claimed, "the fellow drank all the time, but I never saw him drunk." Ronald Fields later wrote: "In all fairness to both stars, the occasional bouts on the set were nothing compared to the expected battles. The full blowouts, the major contention over screen time, or the titanic tantrums by one or the other over scene-stealing never materialized, a definite relief to all involved. But do not get the impression they enjoyed themselves during the production or continued their pre-shooting cordiality. They did not." Shooting on My Little Chickadee wrapped in January 1940. The picture opened just one month later and became Fields' highest-grossing film for Universal despite mixed notices. Fields was praised across the board while West was criticized. The actress was so furious that she refused to ever work with Fields again or even to talk to him or to allow anyone else to talk to her about him. Ironically, while West's popularity was on the wane by 1940, she would work almost three more decades on stage, in nightclubs and in films. Fields, on the other hand, would make just two more movies before his legendary drinking caused him to retire early and then die in 1946. My Little Chickadee was the third of five films starring Fields to be directed by Edward Cline, an ex-Keystone Cop. The others were Million Dollar Legs (1932), You Can't Cheat an Honest Man, The Bank Dick (1940) and Never Give a Sucker an Even Break (1941). As would be expected for a movie with West or Fields, not to mention both, the film was heavily censored, with many scenes and lines of dialogue ordered cut or altered. Plenty of hilarity remains, however, such as the classic moment where a noose is tightened around Fields' neck and he is asked if he has any last wish. His response: "Yes, I'd like to see Paris before I die!" Then, as the rope tugs harder: "Philadelphia will do!" Producer: Lester Cowan Director: Edward F. Cline Screenplay: Mae West, W.C. Fields Cinematography: Joseph A. Valentine Art Direction: Martin Obzina, Jack Otterson Music: Frank Skinner Film Editing: Edward Curtiss Cast: Mae West (Flower Belle Lee), W.C. Fields (Cuthbert J. Twillie), Joseph Calleia (Jeff Badger), Dick Foran (Wayne Carter), Ruth Donnelly (Aunt Lou), Margaret Hamilton (Mrs. Gideon), Donald Meek (Amos Budge). BW-84m. by Jeremy Arnold

Every old-movie fan should have the chance to be disappointed by My Little Chickadee at least once. Now, it's gotten a little easier. While the 1940 comedy is still not available as a stand-alone DVD, now at least it's in a set (Mae West: The Glamour Collection) that costs about half as much as the other set it's also in (2004's W.C. Fields Comedy Collection). Both are essentially extras-free collections, but Universal has taken to releasing such sets as denser compilations featuring double-sided discs. It would be nice to report Universal is giving the classic movies they own the deluxe treatment Warner Bros. is, but that's not the case. Charging less for their movies-only sets is some progress, though, I suppose. My Little Chickadee is about the only actual Universal release from the recent West, Carole Lombard and Marlene Dietrich multi-movie collections (the rest are among the many pre-1948 Paramount productions Universal owns). This western comedy just sits there and has certainly never made anyone forget Destry Rides Again, Universal's more energetic 1939 blend of western setting and comedy. Although West and Fields, rare 1930s comedy stars who actually wrote their own movies, share screenwriting credit here, reportedly she wrote most of the script, with him handling just his scenes. And the movie does pretty much break up into "his scenes" and "her scenes" since the plot, perhaps conveniently for everyone's egos, conspires to separate them. West plays Flower Belle Lee, a typically forward West woman who, in a priceless introduction, we first see being sneered at by Margaret Hamilton, the old Wicked Witch of the West herself, who plays a fellow stagecoach passenger. Hamilton's Puritan isn't the only one eager to thwart Flower Belle. When The Masked Bandit robs the stagecoach of a gold shipment and kidnaps Flower Belle in the process, and Flower Belle soon returns home, unharmed, the town's moralizers cry foul. Flower Belle is kicked out of town for consorting with the criminal, and will be allowed to return only when she becomes "married and respectable." Enter Fields. His Cuthbert J. Twillie is, conveniently for Flower Belle, on the train to Greasewood City and immediately smitten by the blonde bombshell. Flower Belle sneaks a peek into Twillie's bags, thinks she sees a lot of money, turns on the charm and soon has a card sharp the others mistake for a priest (mild-mannered Donald Meek) marry them before the train pulls into town. The plot from here is rudimentary at best. Flower Belle gives Twillie the cold shoulder, avoiding him and repelling his every attempt to get intimate after she learns that bundled paper in his bag wasn't money, and the movie does little more than give the stars a chance to separately ply their familiar schtick: Twillie is a transparent blowhard that Badger (Joseph Calleia), the saloon owner who "runs the town," easily sees through and makes ineffectual sheriff of the corrupt town, while Flower Belle balances the advances of bad-boy Badger and idealistic newspaper editor Carter (Dick Foran). Fields' My Little Chickadee schtick definitely endures better than West's. She uncorks some decent one-liners, but it's a stretch to see this broad-shouldered middle-aged woman as a sex symbol. The action is so chaste in this movie made six years after the tightening of the dreaded Production Code that Flower Belle's sexual prowess feels like it's all bite and no bark (she even places her parasol in front of the camera when she kisses Carter!). Flower Belle just doesn't come off as the wild, fun character everyone treats her as, a problem shared with some other West post-code movies (it's no accident the cast doesn't include any young, attractive actresses). Twillie's derogatory banter with his Indian lackey Milton (George Moran) is hard to take, but Fields figures in the movie's most memorable scenes, when scheming Twillie plays cards a couple of times and when he fills in behind the saloon's bar and has to deal with a rowdy drunk woman (the very funny Fay Adler, a dead ringer for Anne Heche). Eventually, the matter of The Masked Bandit arises again, but it's hard to care about it and easy to figure out who's behind the mask. Aside from their characters' introductory meeting, Fields and West don't do a whole lot together and director Edward Cline, the one-time Keystone Kop and director of Buster Keaton shorts, guides the movie along with an unremarkable hand. West and Fields reportedly had little use for each other, but they end the movie on an affectionate note, trading imitations of each other and sending the so-so movie out with a bit of needed chemistry. But it's too little, too late as far as making this teaming of comedy giants more than the sum of its parts. Ultimately, My Little Chickadee feels like something cooked up by the marketing department rather than star-writers full of comic ideas for each other. For more information about My Little Chickadee, visit Universal Home Entertainment. To order My Little Chickadee, part of Mae West: The Glamour Collection, go to TCM Shopping. by Paul Sherman