The Fatal Glass of Beer

I take this to be a satire on the original "Fatal Glass of Beer" of thirteen years earlier (directed by Todd Browning!) and a poke in the eye of all maudlin movies about remorse and the return of the prodigal son.

It's the Canadian Northwest during a brutal blizzard. Fields, all wrapped up, sings a sad song to a visiting Mountie while playing the dulcimer with a massive mitten. bringing the listener to tears.

Returning home to his wife after "milking the moose", he finds his son returning home after being released from prison, sentenced after having had a single glass of beer that prompted him to steal some valuable bonds.

"Tell me, son, what did you do with the bonds?" And then guess what happens.

Funniest running gag. Five times -- count 'em -- five, Field stands in a doorway and proclaims that it's not a fit day out for man or beast, and has a bucket full of fake snow thrown in his face from offscreen.

Not Field's best. It's lost some luster over the years because maudlin movies are harder to find. Today, Fields satire would have to be directed at action movies.

This is the ultimate satire on those "lost in the wilderness" and "alcohol is the devil" films, done in the early days of the talkies. W. C. plays the patriarch of the family, who seem to live in the midst of an endless snowstorm in the Yukon; every single time he opens a door and proclaims "It's not a fit night out for man nor beast", he gets a faceful of snow. His son, Chester, played by the wonderful George Chandler, was put in jail for 3 years for stealing bank bonds after drinking a single, fatal glass of beer. He comes home and is welcomed by his crying mother and his father, who wasn't crying when he first greeted his son, but soon does when the son starts to cry and the mother won't quit. W.C. goes out to "milk an elk", and of course gets a faceful of snow. In fact, he is covered in fake snow throughout this short, even inside.

There are hilarious cuts of W.C. against a background screen, which show either the snowy wastes careening by and W.C. and the dog sled team merely walking, or a herd of elk stampeding while W.C. talks pleadingly to them to "come to papa". He goes out to get water, but gets nothing but ice cubes from the pump. I laughed more at this than anything else I've seen lately; it's a real gem.

This early short subject, beloved to some of us; really shows one of the great qualities that would set his (best) comedy apart: he was strange. Not exactly verbal comedy, nor really slapstick, W.C. seemed to create his own oddball universe much like, but never quite, ours.

I loved this short from the first time I saw it as a kid, and I think it's one of a kindness really makes it his best (though others are quite funny.) Mack Sennett wanted something more in the way of conventional slapstick; Feilds had to fight for this; which is in part a spoof of sentimental wilderness poetry about Alaska.

Nobody liked it at the time. Fields himself said, "maybe it's not good. But I like it." Thank Godness he stuck by his guns and went on to create his own one of a kind comedy world.

I grew up during the '60s, when Fields was in vogue as a rebel along the lines of Bogart or Brando. Nevertheless, I didn't find myself laughing nearly as much at his feature films "The Bank Dick", "My Little Chickadee", or "You Can't Cheat an Honest Man" as at those of Keaton or the Marx Brothers. It wasn't until the '90s that I happened across this short, which finally convinced me that Fields was a comic genius.

With its absurd juxtaposition of dulcimer, Mountie, Salvation Army girl, wayward son, snow, tambourine, dachshund, bonds, the Yukon, student quarrymen, and unfit nights, this short has more laughs in it than any of Fields's features.

I'd say more, but I have to go milk the elk.

When this film was released in 1933, the majority of reviews were negative and even hostile. The film was hated and vilified; audiences and theatre owners found it tacky and cheap. They missed the whole point. The film is a sharp satire of both the Mellerdrammers of the early twentieth century and of studio filmmaking. Fields and Bruckman were too incisive as comics not to have done everything in this film very deliberately. From the overly obvious sets to the absolute WORST background projection ever seen, the film is a sly poke in Hollywood's eye and that's where its humor comes from. I just about wet myself the first time I saw Fields go out to "milk the elk". He stands in front of a background projection of elk in the snow and begins calling to them. When they start to run, they grow larger and larger, dwarfing the non-plussed Fields. Sadly, since this is a public domain title, it's hard to find a good copy of it. About the best I've seen is on the "6 Films by W.C. Fields" LD or DVD