Too Many Cooks

This film version of Frank Craven's stage play moves at a snail's pace, does not have a funny line of dialogue, and it's few physical gags fall flat. My favorite man-child, Bert Wheeler, stars without his then partner, Robert Woolsey, in a straight role. He has no chance to shine. His usual love interest, Dorothy Lee, is his co-star. Neither Wheeler nor Lee were much in the acting department; they are musical comedy stars. The film would have been lifeless with any cast, but using Wheeler and Lee without at least one musical number is a crime. There isn't even a background score. Not a note of music is heard until the final title card. The film could have been funny if Wheeler had been permitted to play the bewildered man-child which he was famous for. It could have benefited by casting Woolsey in the part played by the bland Hallam Cooley. Wheeler was capable of working without Woolsey and he proved this after Woolsey's untimely death. However, this film started with a flimsy foundation and required much re-vamping to make it an acceptable vehicle.

1931's "Too Many Cooks" was RKO's failed attempt to double their profits by splitting up their greatest asset, the comedy team of Bert Wheeler and Robert Woolsey, into separate features, Wheeler here, Woolsey following in "Everything's Rosie." Delightful Dorothy Lee, present in 14 of their 20 RKOs, was just as indispensable, happily retained for this dated property from actor/playwright Frank Craven, remembered by horror buffs as Dr. Harry Brewster opposite Lon Chaney in 1943's "Son of Dracula." Bert and Dorothy were unhappy during the filming, but their real-life affection for each other carries the picture through to the end, as an engaged couple building their dream home on a vacant lot in a rural area in upstate New York, 63 miles from NYC. He finally meets her extended family, all rather pushy and disapproving of him, while she reacts negatively to his wealthy uncle's plan to move in with them once the house is finished (Dorothy's best friend is played by Sharon Lynn, best remembered for Laurel and Hardy's "Way Out West," while Ruth Weston followed this with "The Public Defender," opposite Richard Dix and Boris Karloff). There's actually little else to the story, too close to reality to be amusing, Bert Wheeler's fairly straight rendition quite unlike anything else he did on screen, a role that was better suited for the domestic Hal Roach comic Charlie Chase. Dorothy Lee is as adorable as ever, and like Bert is called upon for a serious performance that makes one yearn for a little song and dance patter to lighten the unfunny mood. Always a good match, their wonderful on screen chemistry survives intact, but watching the hopeful lovebirds giving in to the demands of others is hardly surefire material for laughter; still, it may just be superior to Woolsey's "Everything's Rosie," which virtually by default is clearly the funnier of the two. After this, RKO dropped any further solo vehicles for Wheeler and Woolsey and teamed them for their 7th feature, "Caught Plastered," again with Dorothy Lee.

Even though this movie was made in 1931, which I agree, was a long time ago, this movie is hilarious, insightful, and well worth anyone's time. There are many topics that are very current today, and always will be, that are portrayed in the movie and worth considering; such as family interference, relationship priorities, clarity of purpose, and self assuredness. And all of this is done is a humorous and light hearted manner. The opinions of family members regarding the new house and getting their way are so hilarious, yet timeless. I think the video, for the time, is very good. The audio is very 1930's, but that makes it all more fun. The actors are very convincing and do an exceptional job of portraying their characters.

Just watch and enjoy. I can't wait to watch again and again. I may be opinionated, but it is one of the most refreshing movies I have seen in a long time, and I watch a lot of old movies.

This sentimental but endearing 1931 Radio film was based on a successful 1914 Broadway play by the writer/actor Frank Craven, best remembered now as the Stage Manager in both the play and film of Thornton Wilder's OUR TOWN. Bert Wheeler, here for once without his long-time comic partner Robert Woolsey, is perfectly cast in the Harold Lloyd mode as an All-American nice guy. He is partnered with the ever-adorable Dorothy Lee, his co-star in many an RKO film to come. They are, as always, delightful and believable together; one is only disappointed that they do not break out into song and dance as they did in many a W&W RKO feature. They are surrounded here by a cast of small-town character actors, foremost of all, the excellent Robert McWade as Uncle George. Although McWade would go on working for another seven years, he was never given a part as good as this again. He would have made a superb Frank Capra bad guy, but others more famous got those parts instead.

Well, suppose that we make a few allowances for this Comedy which begs for "constructive" criticism as an Error of Comedies rather than a Comedy of Errors....

After all, it's 1931, about three years after the invention of Sound, during this fledgling Talkie period. This film is adapted from a Frank Craven play, which probably means that it doesn't translate to a wide variety of film sets, and it hasn't many.

Bert Wheeler already proves himself a box office draw by now, and here he's surrounded by a large cast of supporting players. William A. Seiter has been directing since 1915, with a long string of Silents, and he greatly improves after this, with the founding of RKO-Radio Pictures and all.

The references to Geography seem off-kilter, however, with the train depot at the Hudson Valley location 68 1/3 miles north of NYC, which would place it near the City of Kingston, but this is set in an isolated rural area, and Albert "Al" Bennett (Bert Wheeler) figures that he'll spend about five hours each work day commuting to and fro NYC. But his Uncle George Bennett (Robert McWade) lives in Buffalo, NY, about 300 miles from NYC, and manages the commute to his bank on a regular basis.

Alice Cook (Dorothy Lee) doesn't seem to mind one bit the notion of living in isolation from her family and civilization once her and fiancé Albert's dream house is built in this rural local, and they may then marry. But, oh, that is right, he hasn't met her family yet, nor she his.

This notion seems somewhat far-fetched, that their respective relatives assemble for the first time at this remote building location and then create problems for the couple right and left--which would probably be expected of them, but why haven't they met before the engagement?

But first, each of their best friends arrive on the scene, to meet for the first time, and to take an instant disliking to each other, as Alice's long lasting friendship with Ella Mayer (Sharon Lynn), and Albert's closest friendship with Frank Andrews (Hallam Cooley) creates a strain on the happy couple, considering Ella and Frank's confrontations over their conflicting advice.

Mr. Max Simpson, the Construction Worker Foreman, (Erville Alderson) complies with Alice and Albert's self-designed blueprints, which are repeated as constantly as Mr. Wilson (Roscoe Ates) stutters for taxi fare payments from Albert to haul Alice's many relatives from the depot. Let's hope that the stuttering isn't intended as a comic element, but there's little else in the screen-story to indicate a semblance of humor.

Mrs. Cook (Florence Roberts) and Mr. Michael J. Cook (Clifford Dempsey) side with daughter Alice against Albert at every turn especially after Uncle George recommends Minnie Spring (Ruth Weston), the well-educated-in-the-social-graces daughter of an ambassador friend of his, as a potential spouse for his nephew. Mr. Cook also happens to serve as a Labor leader, who suddenly decides that the construction workers strike once the cards are stacked against Albert.

Now, whether or not "Too Many Cooks" may be considered a prototype for the "Blondie" series to appear several years down the road may be debatable, as Bert Wheeler handles his character in bumbling Dagwood fashion, acting responsibly, while no one around him does, and yet the burden of criticism falls upon his shoulders. Dorothy Lee plays her role sweetly and innocently, agreeing with and accommodating her fiancé's decisions, initially teaming with him as a pair of equals, but soon falling apart at the seams with indecision, unlike anything which Blondie would likely do. But in their defense, they haven't Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake to serve as examples just yet.

And this does contain one rather reflective scene, between Robert McWade's Uncle George Bennett and Hallam Cooley's Frank Andrews, in which Frank tells George that he'll remain a confirmed bachelor, and George tells Frank that he wishes that he would have been blest with a family, but no opportunity has presented itself throughout his busy career in Financing.

Still, it's Bert Wheeler's film apart from his often-screen-partner, Robert Woolsey, and with Dorothy Lee, who often teams with the duo from here on in, so fans of the three (minus Woolsey this time) may decide on a try at this to count the number of things which could go wrong which do go wrong when the handsome lovebirds decide to build their dream house. Or you may merely strive to watch every film every produced at least once and thereby count this among your "Must-sees."