Groucho Marx (1890-1977) as Rufus T. Firefly.
Yesterday, Blawgletter quoted at full length a combative letter from Groucho Marx to Warner Brothers. The dispute centered on the studio’s belief that an impending Marx Brothers movie, A Night in Casablanca (1946), would impinge on the intellectual property that Warner Brothers embodied four years earlier in Casablanca (1942).
Mr. Marx’s letter, we learned, produced a sequel. It responded to a letter in which the Warner organization asked for a thumbnail of the plot. The reply went like this:
Dear Warners:
There isn’t much I can tell you about the story. In it I play a Doctor of Divinity who ministers to the natives and, as a sideline, hawks can openers and pea jackets to the savages along the Gold Coast of Africa.
When I first meet Chico, he is working in a saloon, selling sponges to the barflies who are unable to carry their liquor. Harpo is an Arabian caddie who lives in a small Grecian urn on the outskirts of the city.
As the picture opens, Porridge, a mealy-mouthed native girl, is sharpening some arrows for the hunt. Paul Hangover, our hero, is constantly lighting two cigarettes simultaneously. He apparently is unaware of the cigarette shortage.
There are many scenes of splendor and fierce antagonisms, and Color, an Abyssinian messenger boy, runs Riot. Riot, in case you have never been there, is a small night club on the edge of town.
There’s a lot more I could tell you, but I don’t want to spoil it for you. All this has been okayed by the Hays Office, Good Housekeeping and the survivors of the Haymarket Riots; and if the times are ripe, this picture can be the opening in a new worldwide disaster.
Cordially,
Groucho Marx
