User Reviews

The Vitaphone shorts that Roscoe Arbuckle made at the end of his career (and his life) unfailingly make me wistful. Oh, they're amusing enough, even if they're rarely more ambitious than the Keystone comedies from which Fatty came. It's the thought, though, that just when Arbuckle was emerging again as a film comedian after an unjust scandal ruined him, he passed away. (Seeing 1932 Brooklyn, where this was shot, makes me more wistful still.) Arbuckle's quite winning in "In the Dough." He's still light on his feet, his timing is solid, and, no matter what dumb thing he does, he remains likable throughout. The familiarity of the material--including repeating a group dough fight with little variation--doesn't detract too much from his performance. (Destined for better things, Lionel Stander and Shemp Howard, while game, don't come off quite as fortunate.) One could see in Arbuckle's future a career as a valued, even beloved character player, perhaps in the stock company of Leo McCarey, Frank Capra or Preston Sturges. Alas, it was not to be...

When IN THE DOUGH was released in late 1933, Roscoe Arbuckle had sadly passed away months before and this was the second to last new film of his to be screened altogether. During this final year, he had made a promising comeback in six two-reelers for Warner Brothers' Vitagraph-series. The films were generally well-received, but one can imagine that Roscoe himself was more relieved than anyone. Having been unable to perform in front of a camera since 1921, it must have given him immense pleasure to be the star of his own series of films again, standard though they may often appear to be otherwise. IN THE DOUGH stands as one of the funnier efforts in the series. The premise may have been borrowed from a Keystone-film that saw the light of day some twenty years before, but Roscoe handles the transition from pure pantomime to partly dialogue-driven humor very well.

A bakery run by a temperamental immigrant and a rather nervous waitress seeks a new baker, and Roscoe seizes the opportunity. Dressed in his trademark costume from the silent days, pants too short and derby too small, he is immediately assigned. A plot involving some villains eager to blow the shop to pieces soon evolve, quite reminiscent of Chaplin's early effort DOUGH AND DYNAMITE (and plenty of other Keystone-films). The ever-flexible Shemp Howard appears as one of these not very noble gentlemen. However, we witness less use of dynamite (though it certainly occurs) and more of dough; the fights between Roscoe and the villains (and eventually, other unfortunates) are quite in sync with the slapstick-tradition which the public had come to associate with Roscoe.

Even so, a few apparent borrowings from Laurel & Hardy add somewhat more depth to the mayhem than the Keystone-shorts presumably would have done. Rather than having us just laugh at the visual depiction of well-dressed people drowning in fistfuls of dough, the funniest moments are based on the rhythm-and-reaction-style of comedy which, from the late silent era on, had made slapstick appear fresh again. Arbuckle's timing is perfect; nothing suggests that this man had not performed in front of a camera for more than a decade. It should also be added that his deep, expressive voice fits his character very well.

Another funny bit includes the running gag of a mild-mannered but eccentric British customer, who asks for a large cake with a large "S" written on it, as his own name is Smith. Of course, in a dysfunctional bakery as this one, making such an order turns out a not altogether simple task: "Pardon me, gentlemen, but you may remember that I, in my youth, ordered a cake here," the customer finally bursts out. Well-used by now I guess, but still quite priceless. Less fun is the ridiculing of the stammering, nervous waitress; this bit strikes me as just too cruel. Like so many others, however, I'm not always consistent regarding what kind of comedy I find funny or problematic; if I laugh out loud at the most outrageous moments in Larry David's sitcom "CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM," I guess I should better be quiet. In any case, IN THE DOUGH remains quite a funny little film, all in all. Great to see Roscoe back, although the comeback, sadly, turned out to be brief.