For Halloween this year, instead of indulging my taste for binging different versions of a story *, I decided to pull out an old film I used to see on TV all the time, but hadn’t seen in ages – Hold that Ghost, starring Abbott and Costello. It’s borderline lite horror, since it involves a supposedly haunted ex-speakeasy, but it’s a “Scooby-Doo” kind of ending, where the “ghosts” all turn out to be gangsters in sheets and the like.
The film was the second one that they starred in**, but wasn’t released until after Abbott and Costello In the Navy for various reasons. It sort of shows in the script – they were still trying to figure out what to do with them, so they threw in a romance between a very young Richard Carlson (better know to me from 1950s science fiction films like It Came from Outer Space and The Creature from the Black Lagoon) and Evelyn Ankers (who also appeared in a lot of Universal 1940s monster flicks, including The Wolf Man). They even let another comedian share a lot of screen time with Costello – Joan Davis, who deserved to be a household name, but never quite achieved it. I can’t recall any other A&C film that did this. (Shemp Howard, not then in the Three Stooges, also gets a small role).
The story is a weird tangle in which A&C inherit a former speakeasy from a gangster, and when they go to inspect the property a “wildcat bus” operator (who has picked up some extra fares) strands them al there and drives off with their luggage. Bedding down during the stormy night in the club, they encounter creepy goings-on, most of them caused by gangsters spying on them and hoping to find the stash of money the former gangster owner was said to have stashed there.
What I found weird was that I didn’t recall several of the scenes at the very beginning and the very end, featuring music acts The Andrews Sisters and Ted Lewis. These scenes were not, in fact, part of the original movie as filmed, but were tacked on after In the Navy had been released and proved successful (it has the Andrews sisters, who were under contract to Universal, as well). So they could easily be excised. I suspect that in many of the TV showings that I had watched as a kid, they were either cut out or pared down considerably. I certainly don’t recall any of the opening scenes where we actually saw the gangster “Moose” Matson, whose club they inherited.
There’s precedencde for that. I know that many TV showings of other films, especially those in the afternoon or late at night, where they tried to sell as much commercial time as possible, cut scenes from the movies they showed. It was common for Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, for instance, to have the entire opening cut and to open when they are delivering the crates to the House of Horror. I’ve seen The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad at 4:30 with everything before the arrival at Baghdad cut out (and that includes some of Harryhausen’s best animation).
Something that was very interesting was that there’s an entire musical number by Ted Lewis at the start. My memories of the film certainly don’t include it – the most I can recall is a distant shot of him saying his signature line “Is Everybody Happy?” at the very end. If I’d seen his act at the beginning, I had no memory of it, so it was like seeing it fresh.
Williams had an odd way of talking, also part of his signature style. Every word trails off, as if he’s getting so sleepy as he’s saying it that he’s about to drop off before the next word, but he keeps managing to speak and sing. His characteristic act was “Me and my Shadow”, and when he started doing it, my wife and I exchanged glances that said “I can’t believe he’s doing this.” Because a black dancer comes up behind him, cane in hand, and duplicates his every move. This is th kind of thing they send you to Sensitivity Training for nowadays. It’s not that you had another dancer aping his ations – it’s that you had a black dancer performing as his “shadow”. It’s a play on his race that elbows you in the ribs, and it seems hopelessly racist today.
The (uncredited) black dancer was Eddie Chester. According to Wikipedia, he had been an usher at a theater Lewis was performing at, who was following Lewis, actions – offstage and not in audience view, of course. But Lewis saw him from the stage and brought him into the act. Chester performed with him for years. Lewis eventually worked with four other black dancers, as well. Wikipedia quotes the Ted Lewis Museum online him with being “…one of the first prominent white entertainers to showcase African-American performers.” Perhaps. Al Jolson was credited with much the same thing. But it’s hard, today, watching their performances without cringing.
The movie was also interesting for one line in the writing credits. I’d only recently learned about John Grant, who gets a screenwriting credit. Grant is one of those unsung and uncelebrated contributors. He was the “third stooge” to Abbott and Costello, who “punched up” scripts and routines (including the classic “Who’s on First”) and co-wrote many of their screenplays.
Overall, not as funny as I recall it being. But then, a.) I was a kid; and b.) I still remembered all the funny bits and lines. My wife drifted off to work on the computer after the beginning. It was more interesting for the scenes I either hadn’t seen or hadn’t recalled.
*In the past I’ve done this with Dracula, Frankenstein, and Beowulf.
** They had appeared in One Night in the Tropics, but didn’t star. They stole the show though, which lead to their first starring roles in Buck Privates