The Groucho Letters

In 1946 the Marx Brothers returned to films with a picture called "A Night in Casablanca" which had the Warner Bros. legal department up in arms because they felt it could infringe on their 1942 film "Casablanca", so they threatened legal action. Groucho dispatched the following letter:

Dear Warner Bros:
Apparently there is more than one way of conquering a city and holding it as your own. For example, up to the time that we contemplated making this picture, I had no idea that the city of Casablanca belonged exclusively to Warner Brothers. However, it was only a few days after our announcement appeared that we received your long, ominous legal document warning us not to use the name Casablanca.

It seems that in 1471, Ferdinand Balboa Warner, your great-great grandfather, while looking for a shortcut to the city of Burbank, had stumbled on the shores of Africa and, raising his alpenstock (which he later turned in for a hundred shares of the common), named it Casablanca.

I just don't understand your attitude. even if you plan on re-releasing your picture, I am sure that the average movie fan could learn in time to distinguish between Ingrid Bergman and Harpo. I don't knwo whether I could, but I certainly would try...

Sincerely,
Groucho Marx

(For some reason this letter seemed to puzzle the Warner Bros. legal department. They wrote--in all seriousness--to ask the Marxes to ive them some idea of what their story is about)

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 barflies who are unable to carry their liquor. Harpo is an Arabian caddie who lives in a small grecian urn on the outskirts of town.

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 simutaneously. He apparently is unaware of the cigarette shortage.

There are many scenes of splendor and pierce 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 teh Haymarket riots; and if the times are ripe, this picture can be the opening gun in a new worlwide disaster.

Cordially,
Groucho Marx

(Instead of mollifying them, this note seemed to puzzle the attorneys even more; they wrote back and said they still didn't understand the story line and would appreciate it if Mr. Marx would explain in more detail):

Dear Brothers:
Since I last wrote you, I regret to say there have been some changes in the plot of our new picture, "A Night in Casablanca." In the new version I play Bordello, th sweetheart of Humphrey Bogart. Harpo and Chico are itinerant rug peddlers who are weary of laying rugs and enter a monestary just for a lark. This is a good joke on them, as there hasn't been a lark in the place for fifteen years.

Across from this monastery, hard by a jetty, is a waterfront hotel, chockfull of apple cheeked damsels, most of whom have been barred by the Hays office for soliciting. In the fifth reel, Gladstone makes a speech that sets the House of Commons in an uproar and the King promptly asks for his resignation. Harpo marries a hotel detective; Chico operates an ostrich farm. Humphrey Bogart's girl, Bordello, spends her last years in a Bacall house.

This as you can see, is a very skimpy outline. Teh only thing that can save us from extinction is a continuation of the film shortage.

Fondly,
Groucho Marx

(After that, the Marxes heard no more from the Warner Bros. legal dept).

From: The Groucho Letters by Groucho Marx, Simon & Schuster 1967, pages 13-18

:toast:

All hail the king of satire.

When the brothers decided to set their greatest picture, Duck Soup, in the mythical country of Freedonia, it prompted outrage from Mayor Harry B. Hickey of Fredonia, New York (can't you just hear him complaining with the male equivalent of a Margaret Dumont voice?): "The name of Fredonia has been without a blot since 1817. I feel it is my duty as Mayor to question your intentions in using the name of our city in your picture."

To which the Marxes responded: "Your excellency: Our advice is that you change the name of your town. It is hurting our picture."

:rofl: :rofl: :rofl:

"Riot, in case you have never been there, is a small night club on the edge of town."

I think they were comic genius'. :rofl: :thumbsup:

"Harpo and Chico are itinerant rug peddlers who are weary of laying rugs and enter a monestary just for a lark. This is a good joke on them, as there hasn't been a lark in the place for fifteen years."

Magic. :D

(Along with Bugs Bunny, of course.)