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September Schooldays: College Holiday (1936)


Do you ever have that reoccurring dream where it is test day and you've forgotten to study? Now that it is September and the kids are settling into school, we look back at those halcyon days in the classroom before computers depicted in the movies of yesterday, a world that doesn't exist anymore.



MICHAEL SCHLESINGER: First of all, it’s an honor to play in the rarified fields of the CMPS blog. And what weirder way to start than with College Holiday (1936)?


Paramount did a whole series of college movies in the ‘30s, most of them designed as showcases for their ace stable of comedians (as well as musical performers). This one is topped by Jack Benny and Burns & Allen, along with Martha Raye, Mary Boland and Ben Blue, plus dancing support by Johnny Downs and Eleanor Whitley, while my dear friend Marsha Hunt (in only her second year in movies) and Leif Erickson (yes, he was young once) play the romantic yoots. And of course the inevitable bunch of familiar faces in small parts, from sizable roles for Etienne Girardot and Jed Prouty to eye-blinks from Mischa Auer, Speck (sic!) O’Donnell and Fred “Snowflake” Toones. (Supposedly Dorothy Lamour is one of the ensemble dancers, but I doubt it.) In any event, it’s a cast to make any true buff sit back and say, “Okay, this sounds good.”


SAMANTHA GLASSER: The film opens deceptively with a romantic, austere dance. The leading lady (Hunt) breaks away from the crowd dressed in a fluffy Edith Head design that reminded me of my Butterfly Princess Barbie circa 1995. Her partner is baby-faced Erickson. But the mood abruptly changes and this serious drama morphs into a comic scene. We are in for a treat.


If the viewer had any doubts, we are soon introduced to Jack Benny. He owes a room full of people money, and they exit his office waiting room to seek action from the sheriff. Then Benny emerges playing a tiny piano inside of a grand piano.

MS: And of course he’s playing “Love in Bloom!”


But the basic plotline is one that makes this something of an odd duck. Boland has set up a school to experiment with—wait for it--eugenics. In 1936, it was considered merely strange, sort of like technocracy, and in a white-dominated culture, no big deal. But as Hitler stepped up his war on “non-Aryan” peoples, its true sinister intentions became all too apparent. This might be why it was seldom shown on TV even when B&W movies were running on every station. That said, the subject is treated goofily and the characters are, quite frankly, idiots, so it’s relatively easy to overlook all this and just take it as unintentional satire.


SG: Clarke Wales of the Screen and Radio Weekly said, "College Holiday is a picture which was cast first and written afterward. Somebody at Paramount made a list of available comedians, dancers and other performers and said: 'Let’s make a picture.' Which they did." I think that's a perfect summation of the film.


MS: Wow, it was that obvious even then!


SG: Motion Picture Herald wrote, "About the only thing this one has to do with college is the use of the word in the title...The sets and backgrounds are lavish to a high degree. The action that takes place in front of them is pure and simple nonsense..."


Half of the cast runs around in togas and no one blinks twice. Hunt had the benefit of Edith Head's costuming, and she looks incredible, as always. She wore platinum fox in one scene. She remembered, "We were prodigal then with furs. The term endangered hadn't yet been heard." In another she was clad in a swimsuit, in spite of her refusal to pose for pinups. Erickson and Hunt posed in the style of a Jantzen ad that was running at the time. Her fluffy golden gown was used on publicity tours and Hunt wore it to President Roosevelt's Birthday Ball at the White House.


MS: You dames and your clothes, sheesh! ;-)


To me, this is one of those movies where the parts are greater than the whole. The plot just seems like a flimsy clothesline on which to hang the comic routines and musical numbers. But those parts are terrific. Teaming Raye and Blue was a swell idea, and they both do some of their best work. George and Gracie do their thing without much regard for those around them, and this is the Gracie I like: one who just operates by a different logic instead of being merely stupid, which was often the case when the writing failed her. (Exhibit A: The Gracie Allen Murder Case.) Benny is still playing a character instead of his radio persona—except at the end—but the script does him no favors. Fortunately, he’s one of those geniuses who can be handed nothing and still make it work. Pro tip: When you see four (or more) writers credited on something like this, it’s sometimes a red flag.


SG: This film abounds in comedy, from sight gags, clever dialogue, and slapstick. If you're familiar with the famous train tunnel scene in North By Northwest, you'll get an extra kick out of the tunnel bit in this film. In another scene, Gracie Allen shoots marshmallows with a slingshot. Director Frank Tuttle remembered shooting the scene while Cecil B. DeMille showed Ambassador Grew around the lot. He spoke with one of the cameramen who espoused the art of filmmaking and how the use of lighting was like painting a canvas. Tuttle chimed in with, "What he is painting, Mr. Ambassador, is Miss Gracie Allen smacking actors in the puss with marshmallows."


George and Gracie are fun as always, though I couldn't quite figure out who George was supposed to be in relation to Gracie's character. No matter. Unfortunately, the duo didn't make many films, because they're a delight. Gracie was not a fan of early morning call times and late hours. She suffered from nerves, but she would endure them on radio because she didn't risk forgetting her lines because she had her script in her hand. Films were more taxing. George remembered, "I picked the films we would make. For example, I decided we would appear in College Humor, and College Holiday, and College Swing. For two people who never went to college, Gracie and I spent a lot of time on campus."


There is a somewhat uncomfortable minstrel finale complete with blackface, but if you can see past that you'll find talented performers, and a violin solo with Jack Benny. My favorite musical number though is the dance between Johnny Downs and Eleanore Whitney on the train to "A Rhyme For Love." The set is stylish, the choreography is creative and fun, and they look beautiful in their costumes. Martha Raye performing, "Who's That Knocking at my Heart?" is a close second. The Allens and Ben Blue do a fun comedic dance for third place.

MS: The inclusion of the blackface numbers seems especially bizarre given the plotline, but perhaps this was a subconscious attempt at mocking the whole concept. But having Raye change from black to white and back again (via filters) was really quite revealing in a way I don’t think they intended.


SG: Whitney, who hailed from Cleveland, said, "It's gold rush time in California for the hoofers. Fred Astaire started it. His success boomed dancers' stock everywhere and I was lucky enough to be in the first rush."


MS: That challenge dance she and Downs do on the train—sans orchestra until the very end—is an absolute highlight. And Whitney is so adorable you wish she had made more pictures. But her film career was essentially three years, and often as “Dance Specialty.” I also wish they had given Marsha more to do. The beginning of the film suggests she’s going to be the female lead, but once they get to the campus she sort of fades into the background. But even here she shines like a thousand suns.


SG: Adolph Zukor asked Tuttle to have the film ready for a Christmas release and gave him second unit director Henwar Rodakiewicz to achieve it.


MS: Henwar Rodakiewicz? Boy, that’s a Preston Sturges name if ever I heard one!


SG: Tuttle wrote that he made two films that year, College Holiday and Waikiki Wedding and only Frank Capra's films made more money in 1936.

MS: Oh, dear, I’m afraid Tuttle was exaggerating just a teeny tiny bit. College Holiday didn’t

crack the top 100, and Waikiki Wedding, which actually came out in 1937, just missed the top

50.


SG: The Star Theatre in Hay Springs, Nebraska did not see good business because they felt the plot was too similar to The Big Broadcast of 1937 which ran just before College Holiday. "Paramount should have known better than to do this to us."


MS: I’ll bet that guy also said, “The latest Charles Starrett did not see good business because it was too similar to the Buck Jones which ran right before it. Columbia should have known better than to do this to us."


SG: College Holiday epitomizes zany comedy and I enjoyed it. Three and a half stars.

MS: I agree. Not a classic, but the cast and their individual scenes make it a lot of fun for lovers of classic vaudeville comedy. Three and a half from me as well.


Thanks for inviting me. Looking forward to more if you’ll have me.



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