The Frisco Kid
Comedies from the 1970s have a distinctive flare to them, and comedy-westerns of that decade almost constitute their own genre. It is, perhaps, an acquired taste, but often well worth the viewing.
Robert Aldrich’s The Frisco Kid (1979) came out on DVD just this past spring, and was long awaited on home video format by students of Jewishness in American cinema. We have grown quite used to fictional glimpses of Jewish life in America in the late 1800s, but very few have taken us where this one does: The Westward Wagon Trail and the Pacific coast.
The Frisco Kid is Gene Wilder, who plays Avram Belinski, the 88th out of 89 rabbinical students in his Yeshiva class back in Poland. This less-than-astounding record earns him an unenviable position. His superiors decide he will be sent to San Francisco, where the growing Jewish community requires a rabbi. He sails to Philadelphia without incident, but, naturally, his trek through the Wild West is not so easy. He finds himself, robbed and defenseless, wandering in the wilderness. Helped along by the Amish (who he first mistakes for Hasidim), employed by the railway, and assaulted by food-robbing raccoons, the rabbi is sunk until he teams up with a rough bank robber (played by a very young Harrison Ford), who is too kindly (despite himself) to toss this fish-out-of-water back into the brush without help.
Playing the “damsel (read: rabbi) in distress,” Wilder is his usual wonderful self, and Ford, as beautiful and charming here as anyone ever could be, exhibits all the qualities that made him the box office hero he became. The bank robber is neither anti-Semitic, nor a brutish parody of cowboy masculinity, as so many of his celluloid brothers have been. He is uneducated, but he is not devoid of humanity. Likewise, the rabbi is a pacifist and religiously devout, but he never falls into cowardice (on the contrary, he is one of the few truly courageous images of Jewish males in American comedy) or dogmatic intolerance.
The story is simple and generally predictable (of course, the rabbi and the bank robber become best friends), and its humour does occasionally sink into the silly. (Not to say that the silliness is not effective – I found it quite impossible not to laugh right out loud at the scene in which the earnest rabbi teaches a tribe of Native Americans to dance the hora.) No one could accuse the film of high-concept laughs, and it is clearly meant to appeal to Jewish and non-Jewish audiences alike, as well as to many viewers who might not otherwise enjoy comedy-westerns.
Nevertheless, it also achieves a complexity and uniqueness amongst its cohorts. The characters are drawn with unexpected sensitivity and depth, stereotypes are never wholly relied upon, and the scenes of male bonding are poignant and believable. Violence, a common aspect of westerns, is also handled with an expert touch, and presents itself as an opportunity for heroics, but also as a seat of shame and senselessness. In its way, this film transcends the silly 70s comedy and makes it into thought provoking commentary.
With its unusually high production values, delightful klezmer-inspired score, and quick pace, The Frisco Kid is an enjoyable experience. Unfortunately, the new DVD completely underwhelms with its ugly packaging and menus, as well as with its relative lack of special features, but the film itself is a gem and worth the wait.
If you are interested in film representations of Jews, this is a key film because of its employment of stage conventions, as well as its subversion of old and tired stereotypes. However, if you are merely looking for a comedy that can entertain and amuse, played by attractive and charismatic stars, then you could also do a lot worse than this old-fashioned buddy picture with a peach of a gimmick.
Robert Aldrich’s The Frisco Kid (1979) came out on DVD just this past spring, and was long awaited on home video format by students of Jewishness in American cinema. We have grown quite used to fictional glimpses of Jewish life in America in the late 1800s, but very few have taken us where this one does: The Westward Wagon Trail and the Pacific coast.
The Frisco Kid is Gene Wilder, who plays Avram Belinski, the 88th out of 89 rabbinical students in his Yeshiva class back in Poland. This less-than-astounding record earns him an unenviable position. His superiors decide he will be sent to San Francisco, where the growing Jewish community requires a rabbi. He sails to Philadelphia without incident, but, naturally, his trek through the Wild West is not so easy. He finds himself, robbed and defenseless, wandering in the wilderness. Helped along by the Amish (who he first mistakes for Hasidim), employed by the railway, and assaulted by food-robbing raccoons, the rabbi is sunk until he teams up with a rough bank robber (played by a very young Harrison Ford), who is too kindly (despite himself) to toss this fish-out-of-water back into the brush without help.
Playing the “damsel (read: rabbi) in distress,” Wilder is his usual wonderful self, and Ford, as beautiful and charming here as anyone ever could be, exhibits all the qualities that made him the box office hero he became. The bank robber is neither anti-Semitic, nor a brutish parody of cowboy masculinity, as so many of his celluloid brothers have been. He is uneducated, but he is not devoid of humanity. Likewise, the rabbi is a pacifist and religiously devout, but he never falls into cowardice (on the contrary, he is one of the few truly courageous images of Jewish males in American comedy) or dogmatic intolerance.
The story is simple and generally predictable (of course, the rabbi and the bank robber become best friends), and its humour does occasionally sink into the silly. (Not to say that the silliness is not effective – I found it quite impossible not to laugh right out loud at the scene in which the earnest rabbi teaches a tribe of Native Americans to dance the hora.) No one could accuse the film of high-concept laughs, and it is clearly meant to appeal to Jewish and non-Jewish audiences alike, as well as to many viewers who might not otherwise enjoy comedy-westerns.
Nevertheless, it also achieves a complexity and uniqueness amongst its cohorts. The characters are drawn with unexpected sensitivity and depth, stereotypes are never wholly relied upon, and the scenes of male bonding are poignant and believable. Violence, a common aspect of westerns, is also handled with an expert touch, and presents itself as an opportunity for heroics, but also as a seat of shame and senselessness. In its way, this film transcends the silly 70s comedy and makes it into thought provoking commentary.
With its unusually high production values, delightful klezmer-inspired score, and quick pace, The Frisco Kid is an enjoyable experience. Unfortunately, the new DVD completely underwhelms with its ugly packaging and menus, as well as with its relative lack of special features, but the film itself is a gem and worth the wait.
If you are interested in film representations of Jews, this is a key film because of its employment of stage conventions, as well as its subversion of old and tired stereotypes. However, if you are merely looking for a comedy that can entertain and amuse, played by attractive and charismatic stars, then you could also do a lot worse than this old-fashioned buddy picture with a peach of a gimmick.
posted by H. at 1:28 a.m.
5 Comments:
This sounds good, Holls. Thanks for this review - I'll keep an eye out for it.
It's great fun. Of course, I'm always a sucker for Gene Wilder... He was one of *my* celebrity husbands, once upon a time.
Gene Wilder is an excellent Young Frawnkensteeen.
never heard of it but looks like fun. Pippa
Gene Wilder was great in _Young Frankenstein_. I also heard that he had an enormous schwanzstucker, but I can't vouch for it.
(Please note that this is a quote-reference from that film... I wouldn't normally point it out, but people tend to be sensitive about their schwanzstuckers.)
Post a Comment
<< Home