A few weeks ago, when TCM was running one of its
assorted distant and more contemporary time-fillers between major presentations
on its schedule, I caught this amusing short. I knew instantly that not only
would it be appropriate for income tax season, but also that it afforded me another
opportunity to extol the virtues of Robert Benchley.
Daily readers of this blog know that I quote frequently
from this legendary wit from the Algonquin Round Table. But in prior cases, I quoted
from among the 600 of his essays eventually collected into 12 volumes.
This short gave me the chance to allude to—and comment
on—some of the work he did in Hollywood.
Towards the end of his life, Benchley’s already
considerable drinking intensified over his belief that he had forsaken
reasonably creative outlets such as his reviewing at The New Yorker and
a radio show for more remunerative work in Tinseltown as a supporting player in
full-length films and a star in his own shorts of less than 10 minutes.
A few weeks before his death, his physical and mental
health had deteriorated so much that he stopped writing altogether.
The Hollywood work that Benchley regarded with such
loathing consisted of 48 short “how-to” videos. One, “How to Sleep,” won Best
Short Subject at the 1935 Academy Awards. I don’t know the particular
conditions under which he made them, but they can still provide laughs for anyone
in need of one—and who doesn’t?
Some contemporary readers on Amazon, commenting on one
of Benchley’s books, have been known to write that they are “dated.” This
strikes me as an essentially meaningless complaint. The same could be said of
almost any work not released in the present moment.
If you want a better evaluation of his work, remember
this: Four of the leading humor columnists in the last half-century—Russell Baker,
Art Buchwald, Erma Bombeck, and Dave Barry—looked to Benchley for inspiration, according to Neil Grauer's wonderful 1986 appreciation of the humorist in American Heritage Magazine.
“How refreshing to read a biography of a humorist who
was not, in real life, a son of a bitch,” wrote another great humor writer,
Christopher Buckley, in commenting on Billy Altman’s 1997 book, Laughter’s
Gentle Soul: The Life of Robert Benchley. “The worst that could be said of
Robert Benchley was that he was a bit of a bounder to his wife, an absentee
father to his sons, and ultimately a disappointment to himself. But for all
that, his wife and sons were devoted to him, as he in his way was to them. His
friends, who were legion, adored him. As he lay in the hospital, hemorrhaging
to death from cirrhosis, forty people showed up to volunteer to give blood. How
many writers could make that posthumous boast?”
(For a fine look at Benchley that focuses on his film work, see Stephen Mears' 2017 "TCM Diary" blog post for Film Comment Magazine.)
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