Happy Meet of Music and Mirth

Crosby-Fields in Mississippi (1935)

Real Life Showboat and Necessary Companion, the "Atta Boy" Pushing the Mighty "Majestic" From Behind

I had showboats figured for amusement palaces lazily floating down river to minstrel tunes and roisterous comedy. Steam-huffing engines drive paddlewheels as hundreds are entertained in a theatre linked to gambling tables adjacent to dining halls, all this aboard a craft set upon the Mississippi or Ohio Rivers, more legend, as it turns out, than fact. I was surprised by the separation of real from imagined. Turns out showboats didn’t even operate on their own power. What steam there was came courtesy a tow craft situated behind the showboat, latter not only pushed from thither to yon, but often as not sat upon a barge to ease floatation. Sounds cumbersome, far from romance of the river as seen in varied versions of Showboat and whatever other films set their action aboard. One that stands out is Paramount’s Mississippi, where W.C. Fields drove the pilot wheel and Bing Crosby sang when not besting Fred Kohler in a fight-to-death. 75 minutes to glory in, remade from a silent, then a talkie with Buddy Rogers. One of the Bing Crosby collections has Mississippi on DVD. It is as pleasing as anything Crosby or Fields ever did.

Edward Sutherland Directs Bing Crosby and Joan Bennett

Irvin S. Cobb Is a Visitor To The Set

Mississippi melds Bing Crosby for music with W.C. Fields for comedy, an even match with no sense of competition or Fields trying to wrest scenes from the singer. He understood benefit of sharing with a biggest of Paramount names, the Fields humor more effective for being spotted throughout rather than him having to haul all of six or seven reels. Fields was still this side of starring vehicles in any case, being part of laugh ensembles from Million Dollar Legs, to International House, Six Of A Kind, whatever made for name-crowded marquees. For many, he still works best when not headlining, the Fieldsian highlights of Mississippi featuring some of his best work, plus his being ideal-cast as a showboat skipper. A Crosby audience that might otherwise ignore Fields got exposure to him here, Mississippi brief enough so that we don’t resent music at expense of comedy, or the reverse. In fact, both work well, outstanding Rodgers-Hart tunes at Crosby’s service, which we enjoy hearing even when they interrupt a Fields routine. Romance as salve to slapstick was ingrained reality of the mid-30’s. Here it works to satisfaction of all, Fields more fortunate in this respect than Laurel-Hardy or the Marx Bros. elsewhere.

Fields had gag men always on alert for ideas he could use, comics at liberty, humor scribes, vaude vets, all kept as friends because Fields liked their company, and they knew his persona well enough to nourish it with bits. Fields had freedom too to ad-lib or show up with useful stuff dreamed up the night before or morning of. James Curtis tells much in his W.C. bio of Fields the architect and ongoing manager of a screen image always in progress toward goals he sought, that meaning sometimes a balk at business he knew did not jibe with the character and/or talent. For instance, a calliope Paramount built at great expense and expected Fields to play for a set-piece (presumably filmed, certainly mentioned in publicity for Mississippi, but not seen by the public). Fields knew it was wrong for him, explained why, then stood ground against using the device. The great ones had instinct for what they could, or should not, attempt. We’ve read the brouhaha over Judy Garland and Annie Get Your Gun. She fought, resisted, wouldn’t show, then finally was replaced. It has been suggested, rightly I suspect, that Garland knew from outset she was wrong for this part, “acted out” rather than owning-up to what her senses told her was miscasting. How many players had enough sense of self, or better put, humility, to admit they weren’t right for a role, or that comedy of particular sort would not play to their strength? Fields, like many if not most others, lodged his complaint by indirection, as in not cooperating. How could he play a routine he didn’t fully believe in?

Fields as "Champion Calliope Player" Did Not Make a Final Cut

The Fields of Mississippi is more a known quantity than the Crosby of Mississippi. Here was real departure from froth the crooner had so far engaged, Booth Tarkington’s source story one that Crosby would have to accommodate rather than have it accommodate him. As gentle scion of the North, Crosby disdains a challenge to duel and is branded a coward by his southern fiancée and family, us left to wonder if they have a point, considering “Tom Grayson’s” soft nature and appearance. Not before had Crosby been called upon to assume fighting stance, his new identity as “Colonel Steele, The Singing Killer” bought with blood he spills in a ferocious brawl with Fred Kohler, as vicious an opponent as any (in fact, many) series western name ever met. Is this the only fist meet Crosby had in all of a career? I’ve not seen whole of his output, so that question I will put to readership. Surely screen-Bing never fought and killed a man over years he entertained in films and on TV. Emphasis on Crosby v. Kohler is to make point that both Crosby and Fields of Mississippi register strong, us not waiting for either to go off so the other can come back on. I don’t think Fields ever co-starred so felicitously with an equal name, Mae West being sole other time it was tried, and to my mind, her stint with Bill ran second to Crosby’s.