"Dying is easy. Comedy is hard." This quote, attributed to everybody from Edmund Gwenn. to Jack Lemmon attests to the fact that being funny is not easy. But every entertainer from time to time experiences "flop sweat" - when nothing works, and you are dying on stage. The Treasurer's Report finds a gold mine of comedy in that fact - featuring co-founder of the legendary Algonquin Round Table, Robert Benchley (grandfather of Peter "Jaws" Benchley), as the assistant treasurer of a club who's forced into making a speech in public at the last moment. If you've ever been in the audience for a speaker that gets more and more out of his depth, you'll recognize this guy. Benchley plays an Everyman who's buffeted by life and its little affronts.
Now in order to find the humor in this, you have to appreciate dry wit, of which Benchley was a master. (You'd have to be, in order to hold your own against such luminaries as Dorothy Parker and Groucho Marx.) Benchley is the master of the mumble, the derailed train of thought, and the cheerful façade that hides a guy with a classic deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. The Treasurer's Report was reported written in a cab ride on the way to performing a review by Benchley and the rest of the Round Table. It became a staple of his repertoire for over a decade. When they committed it to film in 1928, it became one of the first comedy 'talkies' - as it was released shortly after Al Jolson's "The Jazz Singer." While Jolson's act couldn't be performed today, Benchley's humor holds up quite well.
If you think of Bob Newhart as laugh-out-loud funny, then you'll likely feel the same way about Benchley's humor, as Newhart's comedic style is a direct descendant of Benchley's. Dry. Witty. Self-depreciating. All wrapped up in a white-collar, Joe Average kind of guy.
I first saw this film when a communications expert screened it for a class my company conducted on improving your public speaking skills. It was sort of a "How NOT to" film. And it was hilarious. But I guess you have to appreciate dry wit to get it. But if you appreciate the subtitles of dry wit and want to check out the guy to whom Newhart and others owe a debt of gratitude, by all means, screen The Treasurer's Report.
Now in order to find the humor in this, you have to appreciate dry wit, of which Benchley was a master. (You'd have to be, in order to hold your own against such luminaries as Dorothy Parker and Groucho Marx.) Benchley is the master of the mumble, the derailed train of thought, and the cheerful façade that hides a guy with a classic deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. The Treasurer's Report was reported written in a cab ride on the way to performing a review by Benchley and the rest of the Round Table. It became a staple of his repertoire for over a decade. When they committed it to film in 1928, it became one of the first comedy 'talkies' - as it was released shortly after Al Jolson's "The Jazz Singer." While Jolson's act couldn't be performed today, Benchley's humor holds up quite well.
If you think of Bob Newhart as laugh-out-loud funny, then you'll likely feel the same way about Benchley's humor, as Newhart's comedic style is a direct descendant of Benchley's. Dry. Witty. Self-depreciating. All wrapped up in a white-collar, Joe Average kind of guy.
I first saw this film when a communications expert screened it for a class my company conducted on improving your public speaking skills. It was sort of a "How NOT to" film. And it was hilarious. But I guess you have to appreciate dry wit to get it. But if you appreciate the subtitles of dry wit and want to check out the guy to whom Newhart and others owe a debt of gratitude, by all means, screen The Treasurer's Report.