Everything must inevitably come to an end, even those entities that we genuinely believe could last forever. For decades, the Marx Brothers were the gold standard of comedy, and whether on stage or in film, they were always the definition of pure charisma and talent, being at the forefront of the movement that took many of the greatest acts from vaudeville and threw them on screen, making invaluable contributions to the development of comedy, to the point where many modern humourists still consider them extraordinarily influential in their own work. Their partnership lasted many years, but like any great performer, they eventually got to the stage where they decided to disband and go their own direction, whether as a result of their increasing age showing that they weren’t nearly as spry as they were at their peak, or even the simple fact that they wanted to pursue other opportunities. It’s melancholic to watch a film knowing this was their last official on-screen collaboration, but it’s also a celebratory experience, since it serves to be a swan song for a trio of the most iconic comedians ever committed to film. All these ideas linger quite heavily over Love Happy, which was their thirteenth film (there is something poetic about these notoriously haphazard individuals choosing the most unlucky number to depart with – one has to wonder whether this was premeditated or simply the result of pure luck), and unquestionably one of their best, which may come as quite a surprise, knowing how many comedy legends have ended their careers in films or productions that are more akin to a whimper rather than the bang that the Marx Brothers depart on. It’s a bitingly funny, wildly entertaining film with many tremendous ideas, and a lot of fascinating commentaries, both on the specific story being told (and the culture that surrounds it), and of the trio themselves, who are doing some of their most challenging work under the guidance of David Miller, who was working with the brothers for the first time. Hilarious and irreverent, but also filled with enough heart to hold our attention for every minute of the film, Love Happy is an absolute delight, and such a worthy conclusion to an iconic comedic run.

There is a common trend when it comes to taking cherished comedic icons, who are still active and very willing to turn in spirited performances, and asking them to expand on their previous work, and it frequently doesn’t work particularly well, since many younger writers and directors simply don’t know how to work with these legendary performers – the tendency is to either remain too loyal and have them retread work that they have been doing for years, or deviate so wildly that even these established entertainers are out of their depth. Mercifully, some films manage to strike the perfect balance, and Love Happy is one of the shining examples of a production that has nothing but reverence for its stars, but also has a lot of unique ideas that we had never seen from the Marx Brothers before. This isn’t an instance of taking long-dormant film icons and bringing them out of retirement for one final hurrah, as all three were still quite active in the industry, but it still feels like they were working with members of the younger generation, who had a broader challenge ahead of them, as opposed to the seasoned veterans that had previously worked with the troupe and brought out their best work. This is a film that does quite a bit differently in terms of how it uses the actors and frames them in a particular way, but it is all derived from a respectful, earnest sense of absolute adoration for the brothers, who are certainly willing to engage in many of the more bespoke ideas contained in this film. It was based on a story written by Harpo (who passed it down to the writing team to put his ideas to paper, and to Miller to put into practice), so it is still a quintessential Marx Brothers comedy, with the same one-liners and zingers that made them icons in the first place, but stretching them slightly to both help the transition to the next generation of comedians that would be taking the mantle, as well as to prevent any allegations that their final collaboration was resting too heavily on the laurels of their previous successes. Instead, it is bursting with the outrageously funny energy that populated all their greatest films, just with an added level of melancholy that comes with any swan song.

For the most part, each of the three Marx Brothers are playing characters aligned with the personas that they carefully cultivated over the course of their career, both together and individually. Groucho is the wise-cracking hedonist with a penchant for double entendres and clever wordplay, Chico is the vaguely foreign eccentric jack-of-all-trades who can charm just about anyone, and Harpo is the lovable mute who communicates through a range of sounds, none of which are human, but are still somehow wonderfully comprehensible. There is nothing about these performances that stand out on their own, which is perfectly appropriate, since their entire comedic approach was to play derivatives on the same stock characters, since they abided by the principle that once an artist finds something that audiences respond to, then they should make sure to keep drawing on that quality, granted that it remains artistically resonant and interesting, which is perhaps the most important aspect, and something with which the Marx Brothers never struggled, since they found the key to success being taking these eccentric personas that become part of their own individual artistic identities, and placing them in different scenarios and settings, which is a fascinating way of approaching such material, and somehow never grows stale, especially since they are always hilarious and charming. However, the difference here is the balance in focus – this is one of the only films in which the three brothers starred that didn’t feature Groucho in the leading role. In fact, outside of being the narrator of the film that introduces the story in the expositionary opening scene and the final act in which he plays a bigger part, he is quite subdued, only appearing for a few brief moments before entering the narrative properly after nearly an hour. It is instead Harpo who takes the reins as the lead, and is absolutely spellbinding – he keeps with the same mute, lovable buffoon, but there are moments of so much nuance in this performance that prove his mettle as a slightly more serious actor. Much of this film sees the trio riffing off one another, but in a way that is challenging how we view these well-loved and familiar archetypes, actively challenging them in creative and meaningful ways.

There is a theatricality throughout Love Happy that is difficult to ignore, since it feels so intrinsically connected to the overall identity of the film, which seems to be as much a homage to the Marx Brothers as it is a vehicle for their talents. It’s clear that everyone involved in the creation of this film had deep reverence for the trio and their iconic history as performers – the director was clearly an adherent to their style of humour, as evident in his ability to mimic the techniques used by previous directors in how he captures the off-the-wall antics of the brothers, and the writers adapt the screenplay to each of their specific styles without deviating too far (and included in the writing team is a very young Frank Tashlin, who was on the precipice of becoming one of the most influential directors of romantic comedies, after several years working as an animator and screenwriter, his first Hollywood encounter being the script revisions for       A Night in Casablanca, another film starring the Marx Brothers), showing that even with undying respect, you can still construct meaningful and challenging scenarios for their iconic performers, who will often be more appreciative for a role with slightly more nuance, since it allows them to expand on their skills in a controlled environment (and the fact that the Marx Brothers all pursued different avenues in the entertainment industry after this, it’s clear they were interested in broadening their horizons), and gives us the chance to see a slightly more bespoke use of their talents. However, this is all trivial, since Love Happy is a film driven by a very simple concept – the undying admiration for the Marx Brothers and their brand of comedy, and how it can still exist in the modern world, despite many instances of great comedians going out of fashion. This film often plays like a deliberate attempt to build a bridge between the eras in Hollywood comedy, and the choice to set this film in a theatre feels like an opportunity for the brothers to pass the torch to the next generation of great comedians, which helps explain the slightly more melancholy tone, and the fact that the brothers were in slightly smaller roles than usual, preferring to showcase the younger and more dynamic performers above themselves, a smart and ultimately very moving choice.

There are many reasons to appreciate Love Happy, and whether it be for its earnest sense of humour and abundance of heart, or the fact that it has that same level of excellent humour that has always been associated with the Marx Brothers (who surprisingly managed to evade all allegations of selling out, mainly because they knew when they were past their prime, as this film makes extremely clear), we are constantly reminded of the countless reasons that come when choosing to celebrate the unimpeachable legacy of these icons. Perhaps their brand of humour has not aged as well as other films from this period – it’s very much built on a combination of witty one-liners and a stream of over-the-top slapstick humour – and many may feel like it is unnecessarily convoluted at times. Yet, there’s something so incredibly alluring about seeing these iconic actors having a final victory lap before disbanding (although they’d all continue working, and would have fruitful careers for many more years, Groucho himself never waning in popularity, even nearly a quarter of a century after this film), and the provocative sense of humour, combined with the enormous heartfulness and genuinely fond feelings felt for these characters, help elevate this film and make it such a wonderfully eccentric diversion. It may follow conventions to a fault, and it sometimes can be extraordinarily obvious – but the humour and pure spectacle that comes with a Marx Brothers film. There are few comedy troupes that offer us as much as they do – their films are filled with different kinds of comedy, and there are even several musical numbers thrown in from time to time to add even more value to the experience. Love Happy is just a delight, and proves that even towards the end, the Marx Brothers were the embodiment of pure elegance and incomparable humour, and truly earned their place in the pantheon of comedic icons, remaining as secure today as ever.