Director: Arthur Lubin
Arthur Lubin’s fifth and final film with Abbott and Costello placed the comedic duo in the wild west, where Costello finds himself betrothed to a Native American girl and on the run from those who wish to make a “bow and arrow wedding” happen. After Hold That Ghost and Keep ‘Em Flying, the routine of scaring Costello had already developed as one of the lasting tropes that the team would return to, and Ride ‘Em Cowboy makes its ghoul out of one of the American Indians (leading to the oft-repeated gag wherein a threatening character poses as a statue to tease Costello). The picture is amusing in doses, but offers nothing that hadn’t already been exhausted in their careers at Universal Pictures by this point. The side plot involves a singing cowboy who must transition from his entertainment career to an actual rodeo–Dick Foran is forgettable in the role, but Anne Gwynne is likable as his mentor and love interest. If the best Abbott and Costello films are often determined by how well they incorporate the other elements of the plot, Ride ‘Em Cowboy is mediocre at best. The first screen appearance by Ella Fitzgerald is a highlight, although she doesn’t have the screen time or influence in the plot that The Andrew Sisters were given in their collaborations with the duo.
Director: Arthur Lubin
Bud Abbott and Lou Costello had made their film debuts as a team in late 1940, and by the time 1941 was over, they had been the headliners in a total of four films and became certified box office stars. Keep ‘Em Flying was the last of three service comedies that the duo made with director Arthur Lubin during that year, and was actually still in its theatrical run when the attacks on Pearl Harbor occurred. There’s an interesting trajectory in watching Buck Privates through Keep ‘Em Flying–in the earlier film, Abbott and Costello are both fearful of the military and try to avoid it at all costs. By the latter film, however, Costello has a genuinely heartfelt moment where he begs to be a part of the service. As a whole, the picture treats the propagandist message more seriously–in one scene, it is explained in detail that not every person in the air force is a pilot, and that there are heroes on the ground as well. The scene has no relevance to the plot, but it is critical to note that the film was rushed to screens before the previously-filmed Ride ‘Em Cowboy as a means of rallying military support. Aside from that difference, Keep ‘Em Flying both offers the same pleasures of the previous two service comedies (sans The Andrews Sisters) and throws in a little of the duo’s penchant for horror comedy with a bafflingly out-of-place but nonetheless amusing carnival sequence (Hold That Ghost, their first dalliance with the horror genre, being the other film they released in 1941). The love triangle subplot is dead on arrival, but the picture does offer Martha Raye in a dual role for the team to play off of. Raye and Costello have a genuinely affecting chemistry on screen together, and as with Joan Davis in Hold That Ghost, she integrates herself into their comic dynamic seamlessly.
Director: Arthur Lubin
After the enormous success of Buck Privates, fans of Abbott and Costello only had to wait about half a year for another service comedy starring the rapidly ascending team. It begins with a satisfying piece of self-mockery that lays the cards on the table–in a meta opening gag, Costello raises a flag reading Buck Privates before Abbott has to correct him. The joke is not merely that Costello made a goof, but that audiences were essentially about to see the same picture. If the material didn’t make that evident enough, look no further than the repeat appearance of The Andrews Sisters, who similarly sing a handful of songs as a means of transitioning between comedy routines. Although the previous film is better remembered than the followup, In the Navy is the better film in just about every way. For starters is that The Andrews Sisters actually interact with characters in the plot–even if the connection feels shoehorned in, no effort of the kind was made in Buck Privates. The biggest improvement is the subplot involving Dick Powell as a man trying to run from his celebrity. Powell was no stranger to nautical films, but by the early 1940s had found himself frustrated by his sickly sweet persona (which would ultimately lead to a career resurgence with noirs like Murder, My Sweet). His part here, then, is nicely self-referential, and there’s an honesty to be found in the way he plays the character’s tension. Claire Dodd, as an ace reporter and his love interest, also gives a more accomplished performance than the forgettable Jane Frazee in Buck Privates. Abbott and Costello films largely succeed or fail depending on everything around the two men, and the best thing about In the Navy is that their routines don’t feel like all the picture has to offer.
Director: Arthur Lubin
Universal’s most profitable film of 1941 would be the first in a long series of pictures starring the popular duo of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, who were such scene-stealers in One Night in the Tropics that they were granted top billing and a respectable budget. It is not clear why this particular effort’s reputation has increased over the years–if it allows the team to perform some of their most polished routines, it is not as inventive or as sheerly enjoyable as some of their later pictures, such as The Time of Their Lives or a handful of the horror genre hybrids. Interestingly enough, the picture isn’t quite as pro-war as even their later service comedies–though Costello’s cowardice is part of his character, both he and Abbott are initially reluctant and fearful to enlist, and their particular lack of patriotism isn’t so much resolved as they get drowned out by The Andrew Sisters’ pop songs. The romantic subplot is such a dud that it barely even registers, but there are some gags that make good use of the props determined by the setting–Abbott and Costello’s best gags often involve their play with the genre of the film they’re in, and Buck Privates’ best scene involves Abbott serving as a drill sergeant for the incompetent Costello.
Director: Arthur Lubin
Seven years before Bud Abbott and Lou Costello would dive headfirst into the horror lexicon with their classic Bud Abbott Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein, the team spoofed the old, dark house genre with Hold That Ghost. Much of the formula predicts their later, more popular pictures–namely, Abbott keeps just missing the supernatural occurrences that Costello is frightened by–however the craft is not quite on par. Director Arthur Lubin is responsible for one of the duos most famous gags (the candle scene), but much of the film is sloppily handled, with a number of continuity errors. Worsening matters, to lengthen the runtime and give the film more marquee value, bookending sequences involving Ted Lewis and the Andrews Sisters are shoehorned in with flimsy narrative reasoning. The only real treat is the supporting role by Joan Davis as a radio show screamer, who matches Costello’s brand of physical comedy when she joins him with a hilarious dance number.
For Reel 