When constructing a comedy, there are always guides that supposedly set the standard for effectively extracting laughs by following a specific formula that they claim guarantees audiences will embrace what they’re seeing and feel compelled to seek out even more similar works – and in an era where a lot of comedies were built on viewers forming relationships with the performers (who were often shoehorned into typecast roles), it was important that such films followed these guidelines or else risk being considered failures, or not making enough money to justify the often-high salaries of the cast. In the midst of all of this, we get two vitally important figures – Mae West and W.C. Fields. Both of them are comedic institutions in themselves, and reigned supreme during an era where comedies were often very traditional and formulaic, which was far from their style. Their one and only collaboration was in My Little Chickadee, in which they worked director Edward F. Cline and his team of creative collaborators in what would quickly become one of the most entertaining and delightfully irreverent comedies of the era. A lampooning of the popular western genre, as filtered through the perspective of two of the period’s brightest stars (who are credited as the writers, although there is some contention about how much Fields was actually involved in the conception of the story), and told with the kind of fervent dedication that makes for a strong comedy, the film is a unique and endearing triumph that is somehow both moving and subversive, made in an era where such approaches were not only risky, but actively discouraged – and through these challenges, West, Fields and Cline work laboriously to ensure that they were making something both entertaining and unique, which was unprecedented for a time in which a lot of mainstream comedies were build on conventions.

There was quite simply no one quite like Mae West. She was a singular vision, one of the pioneers of female-led comedy. She wasn’t the first notable female comedian, but she broke boundaries by being one of the few that forged her own path, not depending on her male counterparts to attract audiences. Her peak as a performer came at a time when being a female performer was risky – often you were viewed as valuable only through the male co-stars (as gifted as they were, studios were often hesitant to view women as being stars on their own – Katharine Hepburn always had to be paired with someone like Cary Grant or Spencer Tracy, and there would be no Myrna Loy without William Powell – of course this is an outdated belief, but it was one Hollywood believed to be true for far too long) – and West did whatever she could to shatter this perception and ensure that she was always the star, which is very clear in My Little Chickadee, which contains all of her distinct and iconic quirks that Cline uses to incredible effect in telling this story. Her persona as the brassy, lovable blonde broad with a razor-sharp tongue and the most suggestive of movements could be seen as regressive by contemporary standards, but was a cultural coup at the time. Her characters were women fiercely in control of their lives, which includes both their careers and sexual desires. No longer was it a case that a story had to end with the protagonists settling down into a happy ending, and her depiction of these independent women that didn’t depend on any male validation made her a revolutionary – and My Little Chickadee remains one of her most interesting, since it often feels like a reflection on these themes, bordering on oddly melancholic at some moments, but never being anything less than outrageously funny whenever West is on screen, the pure electricity she brings to the story being truly undeniable.

As we’ve seen on countless occasions, comedy can never be formed without taking risks, and even the most placid and conventional works come from a place of subversive commentary, at least in their original form. Looking back at this generation of comedians, we are often inclined to think that these films were filled with clean, innocuous humour that would be accessible to all – and while many of them are notably more even-tempered and gentle, there were those that slipped through the crack and managed to challenge every convention possible. Even by contemporary standards (where many of us have been desensitized to some of the more suggestive and titillating forms of humour), West’s comedies remain oddly provocative – her use of innuendo, suggestion and outright risque humour became her trademark, and Cline ensures that My Little Chickadee reflects much of this, while still being a widely accessible film. If there is any flaw with this film, it comes on behalf of Fields, who (despite being iconic in his own right) feels oddly placed in this story. Very little of the plot actually centres on him – he’s a late-entry into the story, and he never really does much in terms of the central conflict, and while he is as funny as ever, he feels merely supplementary to West. Whether this is a result of the film aiming to draw audiences composed of devotees of both actors (and as a result believing that Fields’ presence alone was enough to entice his fans) or simply that he is consistently overshadowed by the magnificent West remains to be seen – but their different comedic styles, which were both revolutionary in their own way, work well together to create this hilarious and charming comedy.

Even in the earlier years of Hollywood, satire and parody were guided by some very important rules that determined the process of effectively (and meaningfully) lampooning a particular subject, which has mostly remained constant for the most part in the years since. My Little Chickadee had an even bigger challenge, since it was aiming to parody multiple genres, and thus needed to operate in a way that they were all given equal attention, the narrative being balanced between them, all the while forging its own unique path forward. The primary theme of this film is a hilarious mockery of the self-serious western genre. These films (at the time) were governed by a sense of morality, decency and upstanding values based on puritanical ideologies. One only needed to propose the idea of Mae West making her way into one of these towns to immediately capture the audience’s attention, since it’s a story that essentially writes itself. Add onto this is a sub-plot drawn directly from the overwrought, unabashedly sentimental romantic melodramas that were consumed en masse – the film is actually so effective at satirizing these kinds of films, there are a couple of moments where it feels like it is actually more emotional than even the most famous entries into the genre. Good satire sometimes entails parodying a subject so well, it can easily be mistaken for the target, which is not something we’d expect from a West and Fields collaboration, but is ultimately one of the more enticing details that we find scattered throughout this curiously charming film – and to do all of this in only 80 minutes is a marvel in itself, and proof that even with a shorter length, a film can still feel extremely expansive.

Looking at the other films released this year, My Little Chickadee came in a banner year for comedy – nearly every major director known for their humour had a film released in that year, many of them being amongst their best work. While Cline did have his fair share of acclaim (particularly as one of the few directors who could effectively harness the madcap energy of Buster Keaton), he was not someone whose authorial voice feels particularly strong here – but instead, its West and Fields who feel like they’re the ones contributing a wealth of knowledge and humour to this wealth of terrific comedies. It’s not a particularly complex film, nor is it one that feels all that unique, but it has a solid sense of humour, and contains some of the more quotable lines in both stars’ careers. It unfortunately came towards the end of West’s peak (she only made one other film in 1943, and then retreated from acting, only resurfacing with a pair of sex comedies in the 1970s, both of which riffed on her status as one of the original blonde bombshells of Hollywood), but she is as dynamic as ever, proving that she was both smart and extremely talented, which was a combination that stood her in good stead and allowed her to essentially command the industry in her own small way. Hilarious and heartfelt, and filled to the brim with nuances that may be expected, My Little Chickadee is an absolute triumph, and a film like very few others, being as masterfully entertaining today as it was nearly a century ago.