Ma Pomme

What with Christmas less than a week away, and Maurice Chevalier celebrating his fiftieth year in the entertainment business, only a misanthrope would criticize the French actor's anniversary movie very severely. Scrooge himself, if he were a critic (and what better occupation for him?), would point out that the beggar who inherits a fortune and finds himself better off without it is getting to be pretty stale plot material. It would take a sadistic pedant to insist that Chevalier's beggar changes character a little as he changes financial position, or to say that Ma Pomme contains several genuinely dull scenes. Such comments would be un-seasonal carpings, however, and their originators would richly deserve to choke on their fruit cake.

Despite these reservations, Ma Pomme would be good fun at any time of the year, and Chevalier's many fans will probably find it wholly delightful. Nicknamed "Ma Pomme," the Master is living as a happy, street-singing hobo when the inevitable pirate treasure turns up and the inevitable attorney traces him down as chief heir. Ma Pomme naturally decides to refuse the 600 million pounds in favor of a beggar's freedom, but he goes first to meet the new-found relatives who would benefit by his acceptance. These include a pasty-faced entrepreneur, a roly-poly lady who has spent decades figuring out how to beat the gambling houses, and a couple of attractive women who complicate things considerably. The plot serves excellently its main function, which is to give Chevalier opportunities to sing his characteristic songs and to use his wonderfully expressive face for all sorts of happy effects. It's quite a face, and there's quite a comedian behind it.

Chevalier's humor, obvious as most of it is, is full of subtle rapier-thrusts compared to the other film on the Brattle bill. Down Memory Lane, a collection of old Hollywood comedy sequences, offers such attractions as the Keystone Cops in a typical chase, W. C. Fields as a dentist searching for a patient's mouth in his beard, and Bing Crosby with a full head of hair. Sound effects have been dubbed in expertly, and the old-timers are consistently hilarious. As a matter of fact, the present-day Steve Allen is plainly overwhelmed. His comic narration serves mainly to illustrate how much the art of slapstick has declined in the past two decades.