Note: The images seen here do NOT represent the color quality of the film restoration on the disc.
Abbott & Costello’s independent films made away from Universal-International include this modest kiddie musical released through Warner Bros. It’s been seen for ages either in B&W or in unpleasant faded color; as part of their ongoing series of A&C restorations, the 3-D Film Archive spent months getting the show back into shape, color and sound. It’s the first of only two A&C features filmed in color, and has ‘collector’s item’ written all over it. Its status as a ’70th Anniversary Limited Edition’ is no joke; a previous fully-restored series entry Africa Screams sold out rather quickly.
We call Jack and the Beanstalk ‘modest’ because it’s a far cry from the cutting edge of musical entertainment circa 1952. It was released at the same time as MGM’s Singin’ in the Rain, unspooling for a multitude of kids as well as diehard A&C fans. Most of us only caught it on TV, where in the 1960s it seems to play non-stop, usually with pieces missing. The show’s only mission is to be sweet and funny. We think it succeeds on both counts, even if the physical production is on the level of TV product of the time.
Lou Costello and his older brother Pat teamed with writer-producer Alex Gottlieb to tailor a budget fairy tale to A&C’s personalities. The show starts and ends in a sepia-toned conventional world, but the main portion takes place in an Oz- like color storyland. Bud Abbott brings his expected cranky and greedy sourpuss character, while Lou Costello affects his ‘infantile’ persona, the one he reverts to when feeling scared or guilty. Here he’s neither a complete dimwit nor a total maladroit. Kids always liked Lou’s Big Baby routine, and when he becomes a hero the insecure ones identify with him even more. They immediately recognize Lou’s puffed up bravado as a mechanism to cope with fear and danger.
As stand-up comics from the burlesque tradition, A&C’s old live performances had surely been much more adult than anything on radio or film. But they developed a strong appeal for children, as seen in several popular cartoon parodies. Lou Costello was a dedicated family man and heavily involved in child-oriented charities. What could be better than making kids laugh?
“We’re in Giant Land!”
Jack and the Beanstalk is very much in key with children’s entertainment of its day. In the ‘normal reality’ opening, job seekers Mr. Dinkle and Jack (Bud & Lou) show up to babysit Donald (David Stollery), the younger brother of Eloise Larkin (Shaye Cogan). Jack falls asleep as Donald reads ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ and finds himself in a fantasy, as Jack Strong, who lives with his mother (Barbara Brown) on a tiny farm. The kingdom is under siege by a feared Giant (Buddy Baer) who lives above the clouds. The Giant has already killed Jack’s father, stolen various precious items from the citizenry and absconded with most of the kingdom’s food. He’s also kidnapping people — a princess (Shaye Cogan) unhappy that she must marry a stranger, and a traveling troubador (James Alexander).
Jack is fleeced by the butcher Mr. Dinkelpuss (Bud Abbott) into trading his beloved cow for a handful of beans, which as expected grow a massive stalk tall enough to reach the clouds. Jack bravely climbs the beanstalk to reach the Giant’s lair. He’s determined to set things right in the kingdom, though he seems singularly ill-equipped for the task. Accompanying him is the greedy Dinklepuss, who wants to search the Giant’s den for Nellie, the hen that lays golden eggs. But nothing goes to plan in the Giant’s kingdom in the sky. Our boys are captured and forced to work in the kitchen. They find an ally in the Giant’s cheerful housekeeper Polly, who helps them hatch an escape plan. It’s easy: all they must do is free the imprisoned princess and troubador, grab the loot and stolen items, avoid the Giant and climb home.
What’s the appeal here? Abbott & Costello are their familiar selves, in or out of fairy tale costumes. Everything is staged on confined sets, capturing the spirit of generic kiddie entertainment of the time. The story structure hews close to The Wizard of Oz, with the actors playing dual roles in the ‘real’ and fantastic scenes. Bud wears a pencil mustache for the first time, and would keep it from this point forward. Bud and Lou go easy on the verbal routines, which they would soon be performing every week on TV; their antics fixate on Lou’s cutesy behavior, mild slapstick and frequent action stunts. Director Jean Yarbrough uses his stunt doubles well; we notice the substitution only when a burly guy takes the place of Shaye Cogan’s princess. Details like that only add to the film’s charm.
Ms. Cogan is a pretty, wholly generic princess. She had a busy singing career and has a fine voice. Tenor James Alexander is a little stiff and self-conscious, and can often be caught looking around as if wondering, ‘How did I get into this picture?’ In their off-the-shelf costumes they perform an operetta-style duet suitable for the Lawrence Welk show. Matching wavy blonde hairdos make them look like brother and sister, yet they bring sincerity to cardboard figures straight out of a kid’s storybook. The shallow but sweet characterizations are keyed to the burlesque background, serving as accessories for the top-banana comics.
Buddy Baer had worked with A&C in Africa Screams; he impressed us in Quo Vadis, The Big Sky, Giant from the Unknown and Fair Wind to Java. His gruff-voiced Giant is just what’s needed to scare / not scare tiny tots — Heinz Roemheld’s music stings provide most of the violence. Kids howled when Lou pokes Baer in the rear with a sword. The only potentially disturbing visual is a few seconds of the Giant roasting Lou on a barbecue rotisserie. I doubt today’s kids will be rattled by this, or when the Giant bursts through a wall in pursuit of Jack.
The film’s most pleasant player is Dorothy Ford. Her housekeeper Polly glides about as if changing vowels on Wheel of Fortune. She’s perfect burlesque eye candy: tall, pretty and always poised, even if the baggy-pants boys should get hot and bothered. Ms. Ford also has something of a Bettie Page thing going; she’d have made a terrific Wonder Woman. Jack has a schoolboy crush on Polly, and is rewarded with a little dance moment with her.
Everybody plays it straight; nobody puts on airs or sends up the material. We kids never took notice of the gaps in simple story logic — only in revisiting the movie now do we realize that we don’t know how the Giant came down to Earth ‘BB’: Before Beanstalk. A character or two are just left hanging, lost in the unexplained Giant Land somewhere up in the sky.
Composer Heinz Roemheld handles the excellent music score but the songs are by Lester Lee and Bob Russell, a team that would next year pen Nat King Cole’s hit song Blue Gardenia. The romantic duets don’t stick in the memory but we ’50s kids LOVED the title tune and the funny group song He Never Looked Better in His Life. It begins with a bouncing beat that sounds like Rodgers & Hammerstein. Jack’s solo item is a meek little expression of self-esteem, I Fear Nothing. Lou Costello’s spirited but gentle exit reprise is my favorite bit of him on film this side of Abbbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. He seems genuinely interested in entertaining little kids.
“He went clear through to China!”
Lou Costello wanted songs and dancing and thus engaged The Johnny Conrad Dancers, a group of four women and jumpin’ Johnny. Did Conrad have to change his plan and improvise at the last moment, when he saw that his dance moves had to work in an area just ten feet square? There’s no actual choreography per se, just some spins and arm stretches. Forget Gene Kelly’s Broadway Ballet — this is the best musical number ever staged around the grave of a giant who just tumbled from the stratosphere. The assembled cast and extras clap and bop lightly to the music and sing the clever lyrics:
He met his doom, he faw down and Go Boom — And he never looked better in his life!
Some day by gosh, he’ll be acres of squash — And he never looked better in his life!
All in all it’s a cute little show that knows and respects its own budget limitations. A magic talking harp is a carved prop called Patrick, with the voice of actor Arthur Shields. The hen is a hen and the cow is a cow, although sometimes with added lipstick. We admire the ‘modest’ production more when we learn that most of its sets were jammed together on a single small sound stage at Hal Roach’s studio. The Giant’s castle was a standing item left over from the ill-fated 1948 Joan of Arc. Director Yarbrough gets value from the cramped quarters, shooting some nice down angles on Jack’s farmyard with the beanstalk. Cel animation shows the stalk sprouting from the magic beans, and the painted view of the stalk ascending to the clouds is nicely designed.
In other words, this version of Jack and the Beanstalk has terrific nostalgia power — which I admit may only be shared by a particular demographic of ’50s kids. So no apologies here — the less polished this show becomes the more it appeals.
