In a banana-republic saloon, Jean-Louis Heydt gets drunk and tries to shoot himself but is rescued by McGinty, the bar tender, played by barrel-chested Brian Donlevy.
Donlevy is no soft shoulder to weep on. Heydt begins to launch his sad tale of having been a reputable bank clerk who, in a moment of madness, betrayed the public, ran off with the dough, and now finds no reason to live.
Donlevy brushes him off. Reputable bank clerk? Donlevy was a state governor.
A flashback takes us to Donlevy some years ago. He's a bum in line for a soup kitchen. Boys and girls, "soup kitchens" were well-know places where, during the Great Depression (viz., October, 1929), the unemployed, the wastrels, the miscreants, could get a free hand out. A low-level functionary of the wimpy mayor, William Demarest, picks Donlevy out of the crowd, explains to him that the mayor needs a couple of extra votes, see? Now, many of the mayor's usual voters happen to be dead but that's no reason to deprive the mayor of their support. All Donlevy has to do is to go to a voting place, say, "Hello, Bill," and the superintendent will allow him to vote for the mayor, then give him a ticket stub which will entitle Donlevy to two dollars upon his return to the office.
Donlevy is a tough and ambitious guy. He runs from voting place to voting place, shaking hands, saying, "Hello, Bill!", and collects 37 ticket stubs. The total is seventy-five dollars. That's a lot of money during the Great Depression (op. cit.). "The Boss", Akim Tamiroff, who runs the mayor's campaign as well as the mayor himself, is duly impressed and hires Donlevy as a political goon. He promotes him to the role of enforcer, whose job is to go out and collect money for the protection racket, and beat up those who prove truculent.
Soon Donlevy is sporting a big cigar and a checked suit so repugnant in appearance that it would be doing the sighted world a favor to burn it at the stake.
In a few years, Donlevy has proved so cooperative and so effective that he is now an Alderman -- or a Selectman or Councilman or something; I get them all mixed up. Then the wimpy mayor is kicked out and Donlevy elected in is place. And he does a grand job of taxing the public and hiring The Boss's favorite friends as contractors. He builds bridges and dams where there is no need for bridges and dams. Everybody agrees he's doing a grand job, especially Donlevy, despite his frequent fist fights with The Boss.
They plan to run him for governor too, but they need him to have a wife to fill out his resume, so they force him into a marriage de convenance with his secretary. He's elected governor, according to plan, but, well -- cherchez la femme, to continue these Anuran intonations. Donlevy and the not-unappealing secretary fall in love. She reforms him. He spills the beans on The Boss but in doing so exposes himself to all sorts of criminal charges and he beats it out of town.
Back to the framing story. By this time, Jean-Louis Heydt is sobered up and fascinated and has rethought his life. Maybe his descent into criminality hasn't been so bad after all. Donlevy tells the janitor to take care of Heydt. The janitor is The Boss. Donlevy and The Boss get into a fight.
This isn't Preston Sturges's funniest movie, I don't think, but it's certainly one of his most outrageous. In Frank Capra's movies there was always a sentimental ending in which the hero was redeemed, the evil-doers remorseful, and the public realized the hero's worth. Not here. Donlevy has had just one moment of madness, like Heydt, in which he brought the corrupt temple down around his head. He's lost his family without the slightest sign of grief. He's as pugnacious as ever. He's probably had moments in which, if it were anatomically possible, he would kick himself in his own rear for having turned ethical.
It was Sturges' first real movie, as writer and director, and it's a fine introduction to his short, iconoclastic career.
Donlevy is no soft shoulder to weep on. Heydt begins to launch his sad tale of having been a reputable bank clerk who, in a moment of madness, betrayed the public, ran off with the dough, and now finds no reason to live.
Donlevy brushes him off. Reputable bank clerk? Donlevy was a state governor.
A flashback takes us to Donlevy some years ago. He's a bum in line for a soup kitchen. Boys and girls, "soup kitchens" were well-know places where, during the Great Depression (viz., October, 1929), the unemployed, the wastrels, the miscreants, could get a free hand out. A low-level functionary of the wimpy mayor, William Demarest, picks Donlevy out of the crowd, explains to him that the mayor needs a couple of extra votes, see? Now, many of the mayor's usual voters happen to be dead but that's no reason to deprive the mayor of their support. All Donlevy has to do is to go to a voting place, say, "Hello, Bill," and the superintendent will allow him to vote for the mayor, then give him a ticket stub which will entitle Donlevy to two dollars upon his return to the office.
Donlevy is a tough and ambitious guy. He runs from voting place to voting place, shaking hands, saying, "Hello, Bill!", and collects 37 ticket stubs. The total is seventy-five dollars. That's a lot of money during the Great Depression (op. cit.). "The Boss", Akim Tamiroff, who runs the mayor's campaign as well as the mayor himself, is duly impressed and hires Donlevy as a political goon. He promotes him to the role of enforcer, whose job is to go out and collect money for the protection racket, and beat up those who prove truculent.
Soon Donlevy is sporting a big cigar and a checked suit so repugnant in appearance that it would be doing the sighted world a favor to burn it at the stake.
In a few years, Donlevy has proved so cooperative and so effective that he is now an Alderman -- or a Selectman or Councilman or something; I get them all mixed up. Then the wimpy mayor is kicked out and Donlevy elected in is place. And he does a grand job of taxing the public and hiring The Boss's favorite friends as contractors. He builds bridges and dams where there is no need for bridges and dams. Everybody agrees he's doing a grand job, especially Donlevy, despite his frequent fist fights with The Boss.
They plan to run him for governor too, but they need him to have a wife to fill out his resume, so they force him into a marriage de convenance with his secretary. He's elected governor, according to plan, but, well -- cherchez la femme, to continue these Anuran intonations. Donlevy and the not-unappealing secretary fall in love. She reforms him. He spills the beans on The Boss but in doing so exposes himself to all sorts of criminal charges and he beats it out of town.
Back to the framing story. By this time, Jean-Louis Heydt is sobered up and fascinated and has rethought his life. Maybe his descent into criminality hasn't been so bad after all. Donlevy tells the janitor to take care of Heydt. The janitor is The Boss. Donlevy and The Boss get into a fight.
This isn't Preston Sturges's funniest movie, I don't think, but it's certainly one of his most outrageous. In Frank Capra's movies there was always a sentimental ending in which the hero was redeemed, the evil-doers remorseful, and the public realized the hero's worth. Not here. Donlevy has had just one moment of madness, like Heydt, in which he brought the corrupt temple down around his head. He's lost his family without the slightest sign of grief. He's as pugnacious as ever. He's probably had moments in which, if it were anatomically possible, he would kick himself in his own rear for having turned ethical.
It was Sturges' first real movie, as writer and director, and it's a fine introduction to his short, iconoclastic career.