While not to be taken
seriously, seeing as how its attempts at verisimilitude result in campy
superficiality, the showbiz biopic W.C.
Fields and Me is watchable by virtue of a brisk pace, interesting subject
matter, and lush production values. As for the acting, that’s by far the film’s
weakest element—ironic, since both leading characters were actors in real life.
But then again, star Rod Steiger delivers an over-the-top caricature while
playing a man who spent his life cultivating a larger-than-life persona, and
costar Valerie Perrine delivers an underwhelming turn while playing a woman
who, for 14 years, was overshadowed by her more talented companion. So, in a
weird way, the mixture works for creating mindless entertainment, even if W.C Fields and Me is hardly a dilligent replication of history.
Based on a memoir by Carlotta Monti, a bit player who
caught the real Fields’ eye and then spent a decade and a half as his
assistant, companion, and occasional lover, W.C.
Fields and Me depicts Fields’ trajectory from the end of his vaudeville
career to the last days of his life. When he’s introduced, Fields (Steiger) is
already a stage star, but his arrogance and drinking alienate him from
employers including the legendary Florenz Ziegeld (Paul Stewart). In a weak
attempt to portray Fields as psychologically complex, the picture asserts that
he used onstage shock tactics (such as risqué humor) to compensate for offstage
anxieties, and the filmmakers accentuate Fields’ jealous feelings toward fellow
comic Charlie Chaplin. After a financial turnaround, Fields sets out for
Hollywood accompanied by his only real friend, a little-person actor named
Ludwig (Billy Barty). By writing comedy scripts and submitting them to studios,
Fields eventually wins the patronage of studio boss Bannerman (John Marley),
who gives Fields his first shot at performing on camera. Stardom follows, as
does an excessive lifestyle defined by drunken adventures with pals including
John Barrymore (Jack Cassidy). Eventually, Carlotta (Perrine) enters the mix,
but her endeavors to wean Fields off booze fail, so she ends up bearing witness
to the legendary funnyman’s decline.
Itemizing all the things that are
unsatisfying about W.C. Fields and Me
would take an inordinate amount of time, so a few key complaints will have to
suffice. The central relationship is inconsequential. Fields never evinces any
growth as a character. Every showbiz type presented onscreen is a
one-dimensional cliché. Steiger’s performance never achieves liftoff, because
the actor wobbles between mimicking Fields’ gimmick of speaking from one side
of his mouth—making the character seem like Burgess Meredith as the Penguin on
the old Batman TV series—and because
Steiger’s few moments of effective nonverbal pathos seem like Steiger peeking
through the characterization, rather than the other way around. Worse, director
Arthur Hiller can’t seem to decide whether the film is a comedy or a drama, so
while some scenes include broad farce, others are mawkishly sentimental. Having
said all that, the movie looks gorgeous; cinematographer David M. Walsh uses a
glamorous combination of painterly angles, romantic filters, and sweeping camera movement to
make Old Hollywood look seductive. Furthermore, the movie zips along at
terrific speed, never losing clarity.
W.C. Fields and Me: FUNKY
1 comment:
I saw this film at 17 back in the day. I thought it was a terrific bore. What I didn't know at the time...and what Hollywood insiders have since confirmed...is that this film was ruined by cocaine. Much like Bonfire of the Vanities years later.
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