These Blondie movies are a real onus. I am severely hesitant to continue with the series, despite the fact each film is both short and relatively entertaining. (I do hate the characters.) But knowing this is an essentially pointless franchise, destined to continue without development – that is a major stumbling block for me. And yet I must continue on with these things, for that is the needless torture I have chosen for myself. (Expect this sentiment to return each time I review a lengthy, stupid franchise.)
So imagine my surprise when Blondie on a Budget proved to be not only surprisingly painless, but actually rather enjoyable. I must say this is the best Blondie movie I’ve seen so far. It accomplishes this in a few ways. First, by avoiding the elements that have angered my in other entries, such as convoluted plotting, dated social attitudes and unlikeable characters. Instead it gets by on an astounding number of laugh-out-loud funny jokes, and a minimum of farcical misunderstanding. There is another secret weapon to this entry that also helps to elevate it, a weapon that deserves its own paragraph.
Rita Hayworth.
One of the true joys of watching old B-pictures such as this is to discover significant stars in early roles. This is the same thing as finding Tom Hanks in a slasher movie from 1980. The Andy Hardy movies had a reasonable number of notable cameos, especially Lana Turner, but Rita Hayworth outdoes even her. She truly is the most beautiful actress from the 40s, a woman of such glamour that a poster of her is all the feminine presence The Shawshank Redemption needed. Need more proof? Here’s a picture.
And now, my cynicism replaced with horniness, let’s move on to the standard recap.
The opening paperboy gag here suggests that they might be running out of jokes for this routine. Basically, this time it is a new paperboy delivering the morning paper, and he is so terrified when Daisy the dog runs out of the Bumstead homestead that he flees in terror. I shall ignore the unfortunate racist implications inherent in making this paperboy black.
Inside at the breakfast table, Blondie works through the family’s budget, justifying the title early on. Baby Dumpling, a far less aggravating presence than usual, pesters both her and his father Dagwood to read him the funnies. Dagwood, for his part, has decided to pursue his lifelong desire to fish by asking Blondie if he can join the Trout Club, a tricky proposition considering it costs $200. Just before he is about to attempt his request, Blondie recounts a dream she had last night, one where Dagwood indeed asked for $200, and Blondie killed him. This is the first (of many) times that I laughed aloud, partly because I can sympathize. Now young kid Alvin is here, as per formula, with nothing more to do than watch Dagwood eat burnt toast.
Then the doorbell rings, and Alvin makes himself useful by answering it. Here he meets Joan Forrester (Rita Hayworth – [wolf whistle]). Alvin himself displays lasciviousness towards Joan quite out of character for his four years of age. But such is the power of Rita Hayworth, so I cannot blame him. Joan reveals that she is actually Dagwood’s former lover, provoking a very funny Tex Avery double take from Daisy the dog. Soon every male in the household (and the dog, a female) is seated in silent adulation at Joan’s feet, gawking wordlessly, as Blondie enters, feeling justly envious. As an effort to keep Dagwood away from Joan, she suggests that he join his neighbor Marvin at the Trout Club; this effort backfires when Joan offers to drive Dagwood there.
(Apparently this is the weekend, because we don’t get the traditional gag where Dagwood collides with the poor neighborhood mailman, and at no point in the story does Dagwood meet up with Mr. Dithers at work.)
Blondie was right to distrust Joan, because rather than drive Dagwood to the Trout Club, she instead drives him up to Lovers Lane. (I would normally express disgust that a grotesque male such as Dagwood finds two beautiful women such as Joan and Blondie competing for his affections, as I did with the Andy Hardy movies, but these movies are such live action cartoons that it feels more like Roger and Jessica Rabbit than anything problematic.) Joan ingratiates herself further to Dagwood, offering up a Joan loan to resolve the family’s budget woes.
At home, Dumpling has a loose tooth. Blondie is worried enough by this that she chooses to call Dagwood at the Trout Club to ask for advice. Instead she gets Marvin, who knows Dagwood is off with Joan. He covers for Dagwood, disguising his voice most convincingly as he suggests Blondie try out that classic tooth removal method where you tie a string between the tooth and a doorknob. This method terrifies me. It seems Alvin had the same idea, for he is about to demonstrate it to Dumpling when Blondie accidentally shuts the door, removing one of Alvin’s permanent teeth. Ah, so we’re back to slapstick that would count as horrifying violence in another genre. Then Dumpling randomly falls down, losing two teeth anyway.
Complications arise on the Dagwood front when Joan’s car dies down. They get it towed back to town, where all the townsfolk rightfully point and laugh at Dagwood – not for any particular reason, it seems, but simply because Dagwood is deserving of mockery in general. Dagwood and Joan plan to go see a movie while they wait for a mechanic to repair the car. Inside the lobby, Dagwood signs up for some sort of sweepstakes prize, which series fans will instantly recognize as an obvious plot setup for later.
It’s always interesting to see how theaters are presented in old movies, for it offers an insight into how these movies themselves might have been watched. Here it is a packed house, no one is hollering at the screen or texting or hiding their video cameras, and actual usherettes see Dagwood and Joan to their seats. Dagwood attempts to enjoy the movie, but every other woman he see nearby transforms in his mind to resemble Blondie. I like the occasional unique directorial tricks this series employs, courtesy of series-regular director Frank R. Strayer. The funniest moment here is when a Chinese woman transforms into Blondie, retaining all her characteristic Chinese features – yeah, it’s insensitive, but it is funny.
Dagwood makes a public scene and Marvin has to drive him home. Consummate adulterer that Marvin is, he offers Dagwood all kinds of hints about how to hide his day’s worth of quasi-adulterous escapades. The first thing Dagwood must do is tear up his receipt for the sweepstakes. They even practice a possible marital spat, Marvin imitating Blondie’s voice as uncannily as he did Dagwood’s earlier.
Dagwood tries out his weak apology at home, bumbling his way through it as he does with all slightly difficult things in life. He stutters as Blondie transforms in his mind to resemble her Chinese self from the theater. Okay, it’s not as funny a second time. But then Baby Dumpling transforms into a young Chinese coolie. Now that’s pretty amusing. Ah, and Daisy the mutt transforms into a Pekinese. I concede, guys, you broke me, that was funny!
That night, Dagwood and Blondie are in their separate beds – Have I mentioned yet how the married couple sleeps in separate beds? Well, they do. Anyway, Blondie reveals to Dagwood that, rules of farce or no, she actually knows what he was up to all day, spending his time with Joan. She even calls her a “scheming hussy.” Of course this is how things would play out in the real world, but this is the series’ first and only concession to realism. It doesn’t typically work for the type of plots they like to tell. But don’t worry, the phone rings right on cue with the next complication – Dagwood has won that sweepstakes. No surprise there.
It proves more difficult for Dagwood to collect his $200 winnings from the contest representative, though, since he has torn up his slip. But no matter, they’ll just corroborate the signature on the other entry form. The problem here is that it’s Joan’s signature. Farcical complications threaten to ensue when Dagwood tries to claim Joan is his wife, but thankfully the representative also understands instinctually she is his mistress. But no worry, he’s cool with that, so Joan can simply come in and sign the slip with no further difficulty. I am thankful they have consistently averted needless complications, and I am even more thankful that they keep finding ways to get Rita Hayworth back on screen.
Wishing to make amends with Blondie, Dagwood plans to use the $200 to buy her a fur coat in place of his Trout Club membership. And since Joan is the same size as Blondie, she gets to go to the department store to model the coat – and Rita Hayworth gets to look glamorous for us all. In one caveat to the rules of farce, Blondie is there in the store to witness Joan modeling, and naturally she assumes the worst. Another neat directorial trick occurs, with very edgy (for the time) editing expressing Blondie’s mental state.
So Blondie takes Dumpling off to the bus depot for e a trip to Reno, Las Vegas’ mentally challenged younger brother.
Dagwood returns home with the coat (sadly, Joan shall be making no more appearances). He calls for Blondie, but only gets an echo. A letter on the stove explains Blondie’s actions, so Dagwood does what any jilted husband would do and takes it out on the dog. Nonviolently, thank goodness. In the height of his anger, Dagwood accidentally shoots open a champagne bottle (purchased for his wife), and champagne leaks all over the kitchen floor. Dagwood heads upstairs to wallow in his depressive funk while Daisy stays in the kitchen and gets drunk. Things are funny once again, as the dog stumbles about in a drunken stupor. A little hair of the dog that bit the dog, eh?
Here’s something I like about this movie. We know Blondie’s going to get back together with Dagwood. The least they could do is make this resolution through honest emotional steps, rather than a series of convoluted farcical antics that require ten minutes of plot explanation. So it’s Blondie’s own mental process that causes her to return home. See, she says some nasty things about Dagwood to Dumpling, which a nearby divorce lawyer happens to overhear. Wait, they could say “divorce” in the Hays era? I thought everyone was supposed to be irreparably part of a happily married couple, and that includes babies and dogs. Huh, pleasantly surprised! Anyway, the lawyer introduces himself to Blondie as Mr. Brice, and I – Really? Mr. Brice?! That’s my lawyer’s name! Seriously. So, the fictional Mr. Brice lists out the various marital failings he’s seen in husbands, and Blondie realizes how Dagwood is far better than she’d given him credit for. She and Dumpling head for home, and Brice the divorce lawyer cackles evilly – he really does.
At home, Dagwood tosses and turns in bed. Missing Blondie, he arranged the pillows in her bed to resemble a body, something I only do when I’m expecting an assassin. Blondie arrives downstairs, and based on evidence that’s actually not contrived, believes Dagwood is having an affair right now. That is, she sees the coat in the closet, the champagne in the kitchen, and the dog drunk. Upon finding the form in her bed, Blondie assumes the worst, until Dagwood goes ahead and actually explains everything in a cogent manner, quite unlike him. And Blondie loves the coat. So I’m feeling pretty good about the movie right now, and they go ahead make things even better with the best joke of the series so far: Dumpling announces that Daisy has the same sickness Mr. Futtle has every Sunday morning. Cue a hungover dog.
There’s one final bit of business before this movie can end, and it’s the traditional “pummel the mailman” joke. This would have fit in better earlier in the story, so I’ll leave it alone and chose to remember the movie best for a joke about rampant alcoholism.
You know, for a series as formula-driven as this one is, my attitudes towards each entry vary wildly. I hated the last movie, Blondie Brings up Baby, yet I’ve really enjoyed this one as well as Blondie Meets the Boss. The difference often lies in individual jokes that work well, along with avoiding certain irritating mistakes. As a whole, though, my attitude towards the series hasn’t changed. Though if my assertion long ago that these old B-movies are more like television shows than standard franchises is correct, then I’d suspect we may actually see the series improve with age. (Think how basically every good TV show has had a relatively lackluster first season.) The upcoming movies shall either prove this prediction right or wrong, and they won’t have Rita Hayworth to help them.
Related posts:
• No. 1 Blondie (1938)
• No. 2 Blondie Meets the Boss (1939)
• No. 3 Blondie Takes a Vacation (1939)
• No. 4 Blondie Brings Up Baby (1939)
• 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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