Both Bob Hope and Bing Crosby were major radio stars, and deservedly so, before they ever teamed up. Both were witty, confident variety show hosts, with a talent for ad-libs. Crosby was the host of Kraft Music Hall, a very popular weekly musical variety show, for a solid ten years, from 1936 to 1946. Bob Hope had a similarly successful run hosting The Pepsodent Show with Bob Hope, from 1938 to 1948. When Hope and Crosby teamed up, they had each established themselves as radio and film stars, and their basic personae were well known to the audience.
Many golden age movie stars who are still loved and remembered today were even bigger stars than we realize, because their stardom was magnified many times by radio. Entertainment radio is the forgotten medium, powerful and important for thirty years, but completely unknown today. Radio was the birthplace of much great comedy and innovative drama, and introduced up-to-the-minute news coverage to the American lifestyle. It also provided vital social unity through the years of the Great Depression and World War 2.
The free and easy team of Hope and Crosby first jelled on radio, with guest appearances on each other’s programs (see link below); both were great ad–libbers, and just as importantly, both could make a script sound like it was ad-libbed. Then they were teamed for the series of comedies known as the road pictures. These are direct descendants of a genre that has totally disappeared today, but was popular during the first few decades of the twentieth century — comic fantasy. This was, however, a very familiar format to contemporary audiences, in which comic characters have adventures in a fantastical exotic setting.
Hope and Crosby don’t play continuing characters in the series; they play the type of characters Hope and Crosby can play, usually with funny names and a wacky situation. First came The Road to Singapore, in 1940, which is a humorous romp, including in the cast regulars glamorous, exotic looking former band singer Dorothy Lamour, who had a fine way with deadpan humor. Hope’s radio sidekick, Jerry Colonna, was also featured, as was Anthony Quinn, who proved himself a reliable foil, being able to keep a straight face when confronted by such unusual elements as talking camels. Next came The Road to Zanzibar, 1941, also a big hit.
And then came The Road to Morocco, which is the best of them all, and a true comedy classic. Paradoxically, this movie is so well known that it’s underrated. It manages to combine satire, sly topical humor, sarcasm, and lightheartedness from the very first scene, in which announcers around the world read the news that a commercial freighter has sunk but everyone aboard was rescued — except two unknown stowaways. Cut to the boys, bickering as usual, floating on a raft, apparently in the middle of the ocean. This time, they are Jeff (Crosby) and Orville, known as “Turkey” (Hope).
To me, the total success of this particular outing appears instantly in the first few scenes of the film. Firstly, it’s due to whoever had the brilliant idea of making Crosby’s character just as smart-alecky and tricky as Hope, in fact more so. They both live by their wits and avoid work if possible, but Jeff continually one-ups Turkey with fast talk and self-confidence. This works just beautifully; Turkey is always lightening fast with a wisecrack, but Jeff constantly outwits him. This disarms Hope’s relentless wit somewhat and makes him more appealing as an underdog. Second, there are four wonderful songs by Johnny Burke and James Van Heusen, starting right off with the title tune, sung while riding a convenient camel, which is full of funny wordplay — “Like Webster’s Dictionary, we’re Morocco bound.” The score by Victor Young has plentiful references to Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Sheherazade.”
The plot in itself is funny; stranded in an extremely mythical, vaguely Middle Eastern country (which bears no resemblance to the real Morocco), the boys’ first requirement is food. This leads to a short scene that might shock to modern sensibilities; they notice that in this country, people who are afflicted in some way are offered free food out of charity. Turkey pretends to have a severe speech impediment and approaches a shopkeeper — whereupon the sting is taken out of the insensitivity, because the shopkeeper has the same impediment.
This ploy having failed, Jeff hits on the notion of selling Turkey, planning to sneak back and rescue him after dark. But Turkey is swept off by the beautiful Princess Shalimar for mysterious purposes of her own. Jeff is chided for his failure to find Turkey by the ghost of their beloved Aunt Lucy, who raised them together, played by Hope in drag; before she can tell Jeff where Turkey is, her visit is cut short by an off camera reprimand by Mr, Jordan!
Mr. Jordan, of course, is the celestial officer known to audiences from the enormous hit MGM movie, Here Comes Mr. Jordan, which starred Robert Montgomery and Claude Raines. Mr. Jordan’s expected visit to the characters in a Paramount film points up one of the freshest and most fun aspects of these movies — not only do they drop the fourth wall and speak directly to the audience, bringing them into inside jokes, but they indicate another dimension where fictional movie characters mix and mingle.
Hope and Crosby frequently address the audience directly, usually with wisecracks. They also reference current events, their personal lives, and their individual careers (such as Hope’s eternally unrequited desire for an Oscar nomination), and radio sponsors. For instance, the boys are suddenly freed from a sticky situation and Turkey says to Jeff,
“How did we escape with our hands and feet tied, anyway?”
Jeff looks at the camera and says, “If we told them, they’d never believe us.”
“Well, let’s not tell them, then.” “`
And they don’t.
Though the story is silly, it holds your interest; it’s really the perfect balance between romance and adventure and parody romance and adventure, sparkling with comic highlights. The gags fly at a mile-a-minute pace, the humor combining slapstick, self deprecating wisecracks, one-upsmanship, and outright surrealism, leading to the point when a camel turns to the camera and says,”This is the screwiest picture I’ve ever been in!”
When this movie was made, Americans saw themselves as the hippest — or, heppest — people on earth. One of the charms of this movie is Orville and Jeff’s can-do attitude. Whatever they face, they attack it with jokes, songs. and ingenuity. I don’t think it’s too much to suggest that this approach proved inspirational throughout the war years.
“both could make a script sound like it was ad-libbed.” – That’s the secret sauce right there, isn’t it? The best actors make us believe there’s no such thing as scripts or rehearsals or camera blocking or key lighting or a 14th take or prop mishaps. Like Ginger Rogers dancing backwards in heels, it’s a much harder job than it looks but those people who can pull it off have us enthralled for a lifetime.
Yes, and when you find out how hard they worked, it almost feels like revealing their secrets to mention it. Everyone wants to believe that Keaton’s gags just happened and Mae West thought up those wisecracks on the spot.
I love “Road to Morocco” but I think “Road to Utopia” is their best. And Dorothy Lamour was a big factor in making the series great. Beautiful, great singer, and held her own in the comedy. Of course, she would’ve done better comedy-wise if she’d had her own writers like Bing and Bob!
Over the years, I have come across teenagers who, upon discovering Bing and Bob or Bing or Bob, without the pressure of peers, finding movies that they come to enjoy and maybe even appreciate. That is very satisfying to this old fan.
I will admit to doubting a self-proclaimed comedy fan who doesn’t appreciate the Road pictures. I might not argue with them about it, but then again, I might.
– Caftan Woman
The fooling around with the fourth wall, bringing the audience in, and essential surrealism make the road pictures, and especially this one, fresh and surprising even today. I particularly appreciate the inclusion of Mr. Jordan, who was, after all, from another studio!
What a fabulous write-up of a wonderfully escapist film! I know that George Clooney was long interested in doing a reboot, or at least of making a new film inspired by the ‘Road’ series.
The Burke/Van Heusen songs are amazing. In a couple other ‘Road’ pictures, Bob plays a character named ‘Chester,’ in honor of Jimmy Van Heusen, whose birth name is actually Chester Babcock.
The blog Journeys in Classic Film wrote about this same movie several weeks ago, yet they didn’t find it modern enough for their taste. Then again, they don’t seem to entirely understand the premise of breaking the fourth wall, because they wrote, “Jeff and Orville aren’t just characters within the movie, at times it appears they’re aware they’re actors in a movie.”
I mean, gee whiz, they only make MENTIONS of Paramount and their agents and Dorothy Lamour. And as you point out, the camel turns to the camera to talk about being in the film!