Another Blondie movie, Blondie Meets the Boss, came the year following the original Blondie. The first of three Blondie pictures of 1939! There is nothing in particular to say about this movie in anticipation; a B-movie series like this would, by its very nature, just keep on going endlessly. The only thing to justify is the series’ popularity. As long as that maintains, there will be more movies – that’s what they were designed for. And in the 30s and 40s, people loved them some theatrical family sitcoms. Hell, that genre’s always been popular, it’s simply had television for the past 55 years or so. So let’s just dive into Blondie Meets the Boss, recap it, and see how it continues the riveting Blondie saga?
I sense a series trend, as once again the movie starts en media res, but not nearly as confusingly as last time. Indeed, my wishes that this movie wouldn’t be as confusing have all been met! This time we see a simple role reversal, Dagwood Bumstead (Arthur Lake) clad in an apron ready to do housework while Blondie Bumstead (Penny Singleton) gets ready to leave for work. That’s it, and not nearly as alienating as the first film.
The same opening credits as last time play out – another clear series trend. However, once they end, the recycled footage continues, as Daisy the dog races outside to collect the paper from the paperboy just as she did at the start of Blondie. The movie then tosses us a curveball, when Daisy discovers Dagwood and Blondie are already downstairs for breakfast. She (Daisy) then drops the newspaper, sees her owners in a headline photograph, and does an actual cartoon Tex Avery take, ears leaping back in cartoon shock. In general, this entry embraces its cartoon origins more than the original, which is a good thing. Also, Daisy gets all the funniest moments, which is not an unusual position for a dog in a 1930s comedy (think The Thin Man).
Dagwood also has a cartoony reaction to the newspaper, provoking a comical chase throughout the house involving Dagwood, Blondie and Daisy, all while Baby Dumpling (Larry Simms) observes from the table, instigating the deathless trend of child actors saying overly-knowing witticisms about everything. Guess what? It wasn’t funny then either. Then Dumpling’s alleged friend Alvin enters the house – he’s still alive, so I guess Dumpling’s brick beating from last time simply scarred him for life. Alvin proceeds to outshine Dumpling at the precocious prognosticator practice, so Dumpling reverts to his old homicidal self and physically assaults Alvin. We know for a fact he survives this time, so we can look forward to far more Alvin abuse in future installments.
Dagwood races off to work, colliding with the postman as usual (though they’re already toying with the specifics of this gag). This happens at the same minute mark as the original, suggesting just how formulaic B-movies could be. And just like the last one (and I can only guess all those to follow) Dagwood’s coworkers have something comical planned for Dagwood at work, and once again it backfires as the boss Mr. Dithers (Jonathan Hale) learns of it. Now, the Bumstead family has been eagerly preparing for a vacation – that’s what the newspaper headline was about, actually, if you can believe news is that slow in whatever town this is. But being a fictional boss, Mr. Dithers is clearly too cruel to care about that, so he demands Dagwood give up his vacation in order to do more work instead. Shades of Lumbergh in Office Space here. Dagwood responds in a way that surprises even him, as he proceeds to resign.
Soon enough Dagwood is at home, having inadvertently revealed all this to Blondie. Cue the opening scene, replayed in whole, much sooner than last time. Blondie is headed down to the office to talk some sense into Mr. Dithers, while Dagwood will stay home to endure Dumpling’s physical and verbal abuse.
The effect of Blondie’s latest nagging doesn’t find Dagwood employment, but rather, gets her Dagwood’s old job. Ah, Sitcom 101. And yeah, I’d suggest that a quick survey of any classical literature would reveal that no standard sitcom plot has ever been original in the modern era – hell, I’m sure Shakespeare has an answer to each one of these. Blondie (who by the way reminds me of Virginia Madsen) wants to okay everything with Dagwood; Dithers’s interfering assures that Blondie works for him and that Dagwood becomes angry. You gotta get that plot going somehow, right?
At the Bumstead homestead, Dagwood wishes to emulate every good stay-at-home husband – and shirk his duties to go fishing with neighbor Marvin (Don Beddoe). The thing is, Dagwood cannot simply abandon his infant son alone at home, as tempting at that may be – Dumpling is a budding Tyler Durden if I ever saw one. The screenwriters provide a solution, though, with the arrival of Blondie’s sister Dot (Dorothy Moore) and her paramour Fred (Joel Dean), described by a handwritten scrawl on their jalopy as the “Champion Jitter Bugs of Polk County.”
Having dumped Dumpling and ditched Daisy, Dagwood accompanies Marvin fishing. Marvin instantly proceeds to tempt Dagwood with a pair of slutty flappers, notably one Francine Rogers (Dorothy Comingmore). Hmm, marriage in trouble due to a love of fishing? Where’s General Sherman? Before infidelities can take place, Dagwood flees Marvin’s orgy-in-the-making to return home. Think all that’s done? Nope. They’ve sown the seeds for the rest of the movie here!
Dagwood arrives late at night, sneaks past the snoring in-laws, and crawls into his own bed four whole feet away from his wife’s bed – I’d heard of this particularly ridiculous Hays Code requirement, but seeing it really impresses just how astoundingly prudish it is – comic strips today aren’t even that priggish! Blondie awakes for a heart-to-heart with Dagwood. She reveals that the entire neighborhood is aware of Marvin’s marital improprieties, and is glad Dagwood wasn’t out with him. Dagwood, for his part, is mighty concerned.
A scene in the kitchen the next morning serves two purposes – to further elaborate the switched role comedy, and to allow Blondie to find Francine’s camera in Dagwood’s fishing gear. The gags in this movie are relatively decent, and thankfully the series seems to have found its jokey niche. An example: late for work, Blondie inadvertently imitates Dagwood and collides with the mailman outside. It is by no means the greatest joke in the world, but the way it’s performed and shot actually makes it far funnier than I’ve ever found the mailman-collision jokes in the comic.
Taking a break from work, Blondie goes to a camera shop to get Francine’s film developed. Dagwood, meanwhile, terrifies a wealthy dowager with his pantslessness. Yeah.
Later in the office, Blondie receives the developed photographs (rather efficiently, given how camera technology worked in an analogue world). Seeing one picture of Francine in Dagwood’s arms (okay, I’ll explain it now – she fell, Dagwood caught her), Blondie seethes. There is a nice cinematic trick used here, as battlefield stock footage plays over Blondie’s angry face. I like these clever little moments, these diamonds in the rough, in otherwise unambitious fare such as this.
Dagwood having put on his pants, again shirks his chores, this time to go play pool. Dumpling’s intended caretakers, Dot and Fred, also want to abandon the child (again, I can’t blame any of them – I’d fear for my life around the little homicidal maniac), because they need to get to the dance hall and win the Big State Jitterbug Competition. Okay, modern viewers, just go ahead and substitute...uh, break dancing, I guess...Wait, that’s 80s. Never mind. Whatever. Anyway, they choose to take Dumpling with them, which makes sense, and to take Daisy with them too, which makes less sense. At this point we get the movie’s trademark gigantic sandwich joke, as Dumpling attempts to consume one of his father’s enormous hoagies, which apparently just lie all over the house in. Dumpling cannot eat it. “I wonder how Dad gets these things in his mouth,” he comments, a comment best read in context.
In the movie’s best joke, Blondie has to work late, and has the police head to the pool hall to find Dagwood. When the cop announces that an angry wife is looking for her husband, all the men in the hall instantly race home. Hah!
At the Garden Café, all our plot threads are ready to converge, believe it or not. For you see, cinematic coincidence dictates the following:
1. Dagwood shall come here to collect his two beasts (Dumpling and Daisy) from the in-laws.
2. Francine just happens to work here as a flapper of some sort.
3. Blondie’s current work client happens to run this establishment, because otherwise there would be no reason for her to appear here as well.
For a movie with a relatively simply plot, that’s a reasonable amount of coincidences needed to get everyone together. But I’d expect nothing less from the makers of Blondie.
Fred, for his part, is stuck outside with the beasts (Dumpling and Daisy), who aren’t allowed in the club. Dagwood arrives to collect them, so he’s headed straight home with them now, right? Nope! For some reason, he feels compelled to head inside and see Francine, all under the pretext of returning the camera he never had because Blondie took it from him and – Okay guys, take it easy here! Let’s not let the plot get out of hand. Basically, Dagwood looks for the most ridiculous course of action at any given moment. And his solution for entering the club without committing child and/or animal cruelty is to – wait for it – shove his son and dog underneath his jacket, then stroll in. At least this affords a decent gag when a drunk thinks Dagwood himself has a wagging tail. Okay, so Dagwood sees Francine, then Blondie sees Francine (thinking her Dagwood’s mistress). Blondie clonks Dagwood over the head with a bottle, because slapstick makes potentially lethal assaults funny. Blondie heads home with her beasts.
Do you think a movie from the 30s or 40s can set up something like a jitterbug contest and then refuse to show it? Of course not! Because musical numbers take precedence over any other “entertainment” in such a film. We get to see countless minutes of random non-characters jitterbugging. Now, unlike the interminable tepid songs in the Andy Hardy films, I am actually not complaining this time. This stuff is fast, silly, and something that somehow still resonates today.
Now, in a plot development I actually missed (and I’m not going back to discover it), for some reason Dot is not dancing with Fred. This justifies her using Dagwood as a dance partner when he races dizzy across the dance floor attempting to catch his wife. What proceeds is a truly cartoony performance from Arthur Lake, for which he deserves immense credit. Dagwood wants to escape Dot’s grasp, is too dizzy to do so, falls down a lot, and it all come across very convincingly as jitterbugging. A nice commentary on the jitterbug, and a nice live action approximation of the comic strip Dagwood. Of course Dot and Dagwood win the dance trophy, even edging out Miss Mia Wallace!
At home, Blondie packs, as does the Dumpling, ready to leave Dagwood forever. She explains the concept of adultery to Dumpling, using careful mixed metaphors not so much for Dumpling’s benefit as for the Hays Office’s – if you don’t actually say “adultery,” they don’t think it’s about adultery. Ah, prudes are always so literal minded! Dumpling utters countless alleged “witticisms,” then says some things he overhead in that adult swing club, thing which completely absolve Dagwood of any wrongdoing. So Blondie orders Dumpling to unpack; they are staying.
Dagwood and Dot arrive to find...some guy in the living room playing the piano. Huh? It turns out this is Holly Shaw, Blondie’s client, who is here because – Okay, movie, you’ve kept it pretty simple up to now, but that’s one coincidence too many! Dagwood heads upstairs to find Blondie, as Fred saunters in from wherever he was and proceeds to...physically assault Holly...okay then. Constant cartoon slapstick comes across as a felony when presented in live action.
Upstairs, Dagwood is mad at Blondie, because he thinks she’s sleeping with Holly, and she’s mad because he thinks she’s sleeping with Holly, and Dumpling is ordered to pack again, for he and Blondie are leaving again! Dagwood gets the dog while Blondie gets the baby – I think he’s coming out ahead here. So...the Bumsteads argue with each other for a while, and then out of left field their conflicts are resolved, mostly so Dumpling can again unpack, and because this movie needed to drag itself out to the required 72 minute running time.
Ah, but Blondie never made the deal with Holly, which is far pricier now post-assault. Then Mr. Dithers arrives, back from his plot convenient trip to D.C., to announce that for whatever reason he no longer wants to make that deal. As Dithers learns it’s due to Dagwood’s compounded idiocies that it never happened, Dithers proceeds to hire Dagwood back, and with that vacation he wanted. Overjoyed, Blondie issues an order upstairs to Dumpling: “Pack your bags!” The end.
You know, that was surprisingly painless! While its IMDb ratings seem to disagree with me, I think this was a significant improvement over the first one. The jokes are better, and there is a marked emphasis on them. While convoluted plotting remains the name of the game in seemingly all thirties comedies, the plotting here isn’t nearly as aggravating as before. And I think Penny Singleton and especially Arthur Lake are really growing into their roles, acting cartoonier and broader, as this material demands. It’s not high art, nor does it achieve that anarchic sweet spot of the best Marx Brother comedies, but it aims in that direction. And that dog is very funny. As a pure time waster, this accomplishes all it should.
Related posts:
• No. 1 Blondie (1938)
• No. 3 Blondie Takes a Vacation (1939)
• No. 4 Blondie Brings Up Baby (1939)
• No. 5 Blondie on a Budget (1940)
• No. 6 Blondie Has Servant Trouble (1940)
• No. 7 Blondie Plays Cupid (1940)
• No. 8 Blondie Goes Latin (1941)
• No. 9 Blondie in Society (1941)
• No. 10 Blondie Goes to College (1942)
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