The Marx Brothers' Big Breakthrough
In June 1923, an unheralded show opened at the Walnut Theater in Philadelphia and played to capacity houses for 14 weeks, despite the city’s legendary heat and humidity. That play, if it can be dignified with that title, was "I’ll Say She Is"; the stars, the Marx Brothers.
Often considered a theatrical graveyard, Philadelphia launched the career of the Marx Brothers to new heights. "I’ll Say She Is" made them stars on Broadway, eventually took them to Hollywood and ultimately to international fame as one of America’s greatest comedy teams.
The Marx Brothers had been a successful team in vaudeville for over a decade and had been put together by their formidable stage mother, Minnie. The sister of Al Shean, one half of the vaudeville team "Gallagher and Shean," Minnie was determined that her boys would be a success. A typical rough and tumble act, called “Fun in Hi Skule,” mostly developed by Shean, gained the brothers their first success. The act featured the characters that would later make them famous: Leonard became Chico, the girl chasing piano player, Arthur was named Harpo for the obvious reason that he played the harp in the act, Julius, Groucho because of his sour personality and general pessimism. The other two brothers, Milton and Herbert were christened Gummo and Zeppo for no apparent reason that anyone can agree on.
Marx Brothers each had a unique persona
The act saw the Marx Brothers develop their own brand of rough-house comedy with Chico pursuing the girls and taking time out to play the piano with his unique manner of "shooting the keys." Harpo would join him in the act, usually with an angelic smile while wearing a white fright wig, then the sign of the dumb rube. He specialized in storing things in his coat, producing from its folds a cup of coffee, a blowtorch, or set of knives and forks. Groucho held the act together with his verbal routines. Some idea of the quality, if one could call it that, of his humor came in a scene where he was playing a teacher and the incredibly dumb student was Chico.
Groucho asks Chico: What is the shape of the earth?
Chico: Don’t know
Groucho: What is the shape of my cuff links?
Chico: looking at Groucho’s sleeve, says Square.
Groucho: No, my Sunday cuff links.
Chico: Round
Groucho: That’s it. Now what is the shape of the earth?
Chico: Square on weekdays and round on Sundays.
With material like this and one of the most kinetic acts in vaudeville, the Marx Brothers eventually made the big-time circuits including the show business mecca, the Palace in New York, where they became so popular they were known as the “Palace Theater Stock Company.”
Despite making good money, around $1,000 a week (the equivalent to about $10,000-$15,000 in today’s money) the Brothers wanted to get away from the rough and tumble of vaudeville and break into Broadway which meant you were Big Time. Their timing was perfect.
In 1922, a legendary Broadway producer, Joseph M. Gaites, known as "Minimum" Gaites because of his cheap operations, was with left with a load of scenery and costumes from a couple of failed shows. He had an obligation to open a show in Philadelphia in less than a month and no prospects. At this point he met Chico and found that the Marx Brothers were available. It was pure chemistry with a dash of desperation thrown in.
Deal keeps Marx Brothers in Philadelphia
Gaites and Chico agreed on a deal. Gaites convinced a Pennsylvania coal dealer with theatrical ambitions, James Beury, that a comedy-revue combining the scenery from his two shows and the Marx Brothers was just what Philadelphia needed that summer. It helped that Beury happened to have a chorus girl friend whom he wanted to showcase and that he also owned the Walnut Theatre in Philadelphia.
Tired of vaudeville and its constant touring, the Marx Brothers jumped at the opportunity to do a legitimate show, even one associated with an operator like Gaites. They also came cheap, settling for 10 percent of the gate.
A show was literally thrown together: A few songs and dances but really built around the act that the Marx Brothers had honed in vaudeville. Groucho and Chico rewrote some of their older skits. The whole process took less than a month to finish something approaching a show.
On Monday, June 4, 1923, while Philadelphia sweltered in the first heat wave of the season — Harpo called the city “Louisiana without the mosquitoes” — the Marx Brothers opened "I’ll Say She Is." No one could explain what the title meant or how it reflected the show.
The house was packed, with orchestra seats going for a top of $2 as show business history was made. There were two acts and 21 scenes. Some idea of the quality of the show can be seen in the supporting cast. Among them were Florence Gast, billed as the “girl with the million-dollar dimple on her knee,” “The Twelve Famous London Tivoli Girls” and the never-to-be-forgotten Lotta Miles, the Kelly Springfield Tire Girl. Gaites had obviously spared every expense.
The Marx Brothers opened the show with a skit in a theatrical agent’s office where each of the Brothers entered looking for a job, singing a song (except Harpo who just grinned inanely and nodded): “My name is Sammy Brown and I just came into town,” which quickly degenerated into “The Darktown Strutters Ball” while the Brothers trashed the office. The audience loved it.
Chico chased the girls, played a piano piece, and Harpo did one of his inimical harp numbers, but the biggest hits of the show were skits the Brothers had developed over the years.
In the first, a detective is investigating Harpo for a robbery. As he is taken into custody, Harpo mutely protests his innocence, finally melting the detective’s heart. Harpo is freed and the detective shakes his hand, congratulating him on his honesty. As he does, knives, forks, spoons and assorted kitchen utensils begin to fall from Harpo’s sleeve and pile up at the detective’s feet. The pile is ankle deep when from the other sleeve Harpo disgorges more cutlery. When finally, there can be no more and the detective begins to march him off to jail, Harpo releases a Niagara of cutlery along with a coffee pot from inside his coat. As they clatter to the floor Harpo flees, but not before kicking the detective in the rear. It wasn’t sophisticated but the audience loved it.
'Napoleon and Josephine' stole the show
Groucho’s skit was the highlight of the show. He played Napoleon bidding farewell to Josephine as he leaves for the front. He wore an absurd parody of Napoleon’s uniform: a large tricornered hat, long black coat with huge epaulets, white pantaloon trousers, sloppy high boots and an incredibly long sword that kept tripping him as he moved about the stage in that bizarre stooped walk that he made famous.
Taking Josephine in his arms he whispered sweet nothings, such as “Jo your eyes shine like the seat of my blue serge suit.” She tells him that she is true to the French Army, to which Groucho with his characteristic leer says: “Thank God, we have no navy.”
As he leaves, Josephine’s lovers played by Chico, Harpo, and Zeppo come out from hiding and begin to maul her. Returning to get his sword, Groucho sends the lovers scurrying for cover. “Jo, you are as true as three-dollar coronet.” A band begins playing in the background. Groucho cocks his head: “Ah, the mayonnaise. The Army must be dressing.”
With gems like this these, Philadelphia’s “first annual summer musical revue,” as the show was advertised, was off to a roaring start. The critics were enthusiastic if slightly confused. They called it “ideal hot weather entertainment” but were impressed by Chico’s piano solo and Harpo’s remarkable way of playing the harp.
The ultimate accolade for the show came not from any critic but from Philadelphia’s Commissioner of Police, Smedley Darlington Butler, twice winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor, who took time off from unsuccessfully chasing bootleggers to label it as “the greatest show I have seen in the last 25 years.”
Show played to packed house for 14 weeks
Positive reviews and word of mouth support turned the show into the biggest hit that Philadelphia had experienced in years. It played to packed houses for 14 weeks. During its first week, the show grossed $6,000, a good figure for a summer program. By the third week it was taking in $14,000 a week.
Since the total cost of the production was about $25,000, this was an incredible figure. By the middle of its run, the show was sold out for two weeks in advance.
"I’ll Say She Is" closed in Philadelphia on Labor Day and then spent the next year touring with equal success throughout the country. Despite its rough quality and low humor, the Brothers decided to chance Broadway and opened the show in New York. Groucho, always the pessimist, had his doubts the show would click with the more sophisticated New Yorkers. He was wrong. It was even a bigger popular and more surprisingly critical success.
The critics fell all over themselves praising the show. Alexander Woollcott threatened to write an 18,000-word rave review and became a particular admirer of Harpo’s insane comedy. Robert Benchley and Franklin P. Adams, then among the most influential and sophisticated reviewers, embraced the Brothers with Harpo and Groucho being admitted to the Algonquin Round Table. Perhaps the highest compliment the Marx Brothers received came from the legendary Charlie Chaplin who after seeing the show said it was “the best musical comedy revue I’ve ever seen.” High praise indeed from the master.
The Marx Brothers had made finally the big time after 20 years in show business. "I’ll Say She Is" played New York for two years and then went on the road again for another two years. The Brothers followed their initial success with "Coconuts and Animal Crackers," also smash Broadway successes, and by the end of the decade found even greater success in Hollywood.
Like W.C. Fields, Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Laurel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers were originals. They had no peer. One has only to compare them to other acts built around physical humor like the Three Stooges to gauge their originality.
Philadelphia, often blind to talent and the butt of many jokes, can take credit for giving one of America’s funniest comedy teams its start on its path to greatness.
