Although many ’70s filmmakers
brilliantly modernized the film-noir genre of the 1940s and 1950s, most ’70s attempts
to revive the “screwball comedy” style of the 1930s fell flat. Part of the
problem, of course, is that screwball comedies are inherently fluffy, a
tonality that creates an inherent dissonance when juxtaposed with the realism to
which viewers gravitated in the ’70s. Plus, for better or worse,
film comedy had grown up since the ’30s, so the idea of a gentle
farce predicated on silly misunderstandings seemed archaic. Yet somehow,
wunderkind director Peter Bogdanovich managed to turn an unapologetic throwback
into a major success—in every possible way, What’s Up Doc? is an homage to yesteryear. After all, the deliberately
confusing storyline swirls several frothy subplots around the even frothier
main plot of a fast-talking misfit trying to win the heart of a bumbling
scientist.
There’s no
denying Bogdanovich’s craftsmanship, because he clearly studied the work of
everyone from Charlie Chaplin to Howard Hawks in order to analyze the
construction of repartee and sight gags. As a clinical experiment, What’s Up Doc? is impressive.
Furthermore, Bogdanovich benefited from the contributions of smart co-writers,
namely Buck Henry and the Bonnie and
Clyde duo of Robert Benton and David Newman, and the talent represented
onscreen is just as first-rate, with one notable exception. Leading lady Barbra
Streisand is terrific as she blasts through thick dialogue, somehow making her
overbearing character likeable. She also looks amazing, oozing her unique
strain of self-confident sexiness. Comedy pros lending their gifts to smaller
roles include Madeleine Kahn (appearing in her first movie), Kenneth Mars,
Michael Murphy, and Austin Pendleton.
The aforementioned exception, however, is
leading man Ryan O’Neal, who comes across like a beautiful puppet—in addition
to being far too fit, handsome, and tan to believably play a cloistered
researcher, O’Neal evinces no personality whatsoever. One gets the impression
that his every gesture and intonation was massaged by Bogdanovich, so O’Neal’s
performance has a robotic feel. Similarly, the movie’s elaborate
physical-comedy set pieces are so mechanically constructed that they seem more
focused on showcasing production values than on generating laughs. For instance, the
finale, during which the heroes soar down San Francisco streets inside
a Chinese dragon parade float—and during which characters keep just missing a sheet of plate glass
that’s being delivered across a roadway—is exhausting to watch instead of
exhilarating. (Even the movie’s rat-a-tat dialogue has an overly rote quality.
At one point, O’Neal says, “What are you doing? It’s a one-way street!”
Streisand shoots back, “We’re only going one way!”)
Ultimately, however, the
real problem with What’s Up, Doc? (at
least for this viewer) is twofold. Firstly, it’s impossible to care about
characters who exist only to trigger jokes, and secondly, it’s difficult to
overlook the anachronism of ’70s actors playing situations borrowed from the
1930s. But then again, millions of people flocked to What’s Up, Doc? during its original release, putting the movie among the highest grossers of 1972. So, as the saying goes, your experience may
differ.
What’s Up, Doc?: FUNKY
