What I tend to appreciate the most about comedies produced during Hollywood’s Golden Era is their remarkable simplicity – there was very little need for high-concept stories or films that were entirely original or frequently experimental. We have seemingly lost the ability to acknowledge that the more simple a joke, the more effective it is (unless delivered by someone whose entire act is based around more complex humour, which in itself is an art), which has never been more appropriate than in the case of the Marx Brothers, the legendary troupe that reigned supreme for the early parts of the 20th century, commanding both stage and screen in many different scenarios, nearly all of which were based around their distinctive act, drawn from particular personas cultivated by each of the brothers. My appreciation for their work has never been a secret, especially when discussing their landmark films that stand as some of the most brilliant and inventive comedies ever produced. One of their more interesting projects is A Night at the Opera, where they work once again with director Sam Wood, and set sail on the high seas, moving from the grandiose opera houses of Italy to the mean streets of New York City, hilarity ensuing at every turn. It is certainly difficult to not appreciate what is being done by these comedic geniuses when they set foot on stage, and while it may not be on quite the same level as some of their other films (with it being sandwiched between Duck Soup and A Day at the Races, two of their most well-regarded works), it is undeniable that they are still operating at the peak of their abilities throughout A Night at the Opera, which is as hilarious as it is heartfelt, which is not a rare occurrence when exploring their long and storied careers, which are filled with wonderful and eclectic comedies that push boundaries without ever making a point of being entirely original.

While it is always ideal to be unique, there is virtue in familiarity, and when it comes to trouble like the Marx Brothers, there are certain merits that come with following a particular formula. Ultimately, the viewer knows exactly what they are getting when venturing into one of their films, with the structure remaining relatively identical in all their films – there will be several wonderful segments featured around a particular gag, which will be punctuated by musical numbers, oscillating between the humourous and the melancholy, the former usually featuring Groucho performing one of his acerbic, wit-filled yarns, while the latter often saw Harpo earn his nickname, somehow turning these films into quite beautiful affairs since there was a lot more to these performers than just wall-to-wall comedy. A Night at the Opera follows the same structure but naturally tends to emphasize the concept of performance, since not only was this proven to be a very popular way of bringing audiences in, but also helped give the film a sense of elegance, which had previously been a subject of contention with those highbrow detractors who viewed films like The Cocoanuts and Duck Soup as crass and common affairs (despite them being very sophisticated in their unique way), which was quickly avoided with a film that focuses on opera, which has always been viewed as the pinnacle of high art. Essentially, the concept that fueled this film was clear – Wood was told to collaborate with the Marx Brothers, crafting a film around their personas, while adding in the supposedly more elegant aspects of opera, which would normally be viewed as contradictory in any other context, but manage to work together extremely well. There are several moments in A Night at the Opera that are amongst the troupe’s very best – the stateroom scene, in particular, is one of the many iconic gags that has infiltrated popular culture and become a landmark of comedy, with this film being filled to the brim with many terrific setpieces that draw attention to the intricate nature of performance, both comedic and operatic, which are beautifully paired throughout this film.

Much like the structure that remains the same throughout most of their films, we also know exactly what to expect from the Marx Brothers in terms of the characters they are playing. All that changes between their films are the names of the people they are portraying, with costumes, temperament and style of humour remaining entirely consistent. Some dissenting voices have suggested the lack of willingness to change or adapt to different characters has dated their work, whereas others have mentioned how this was the reason behind their radical success. While none of them was actually that similar to these archetypal characters in real life, they were smart enough to create personas that were easily adaptable to any scenario, as well as being highly recognisable. If you were going to see a Marx Brothers film, you most certainly were hoping to see Groucho play a wise-cracking curmudgeon, Harpo the silent-but-deadly sidekick and Chico the down-on-his-luck opportunist with the gift of the gab. Straying too far from these personas was not a good idea, and thus we have many similar performances across films, but each one remains hilarious, due to their consistency. A Night at the Opera doesn’t change much, but it somehow still stands as its own – Groucho is once again the de facto lead, and in the role of Otis B. Driftwood (probably his best character name after Rufus T. Firefly), he is just as hilarious as ever – but this could quite possibly be his best performance on a technical level too, because not only does it contain his usual verbal humour, he leans into the slapstick more than he did previously, with some of the physical humour in this performance being amongst his best work. They’re joined by the usual coterie of regular collaborators and newcomers – Margaret Dumont is as valuable as ever as the unofficial sixth Marx Brother (although her role is sadly quite small in comparison to other appearances), while the beautiful and dashing heroes are played by Allan Jones and Kitty Carlisle, who were cast as the sympathetic romantic leads, and thus are lovely presences that barely register in comparison to the main attraction, the trio of performers who command the screen and constantly make their status as legendary performances quite clear.

However, one of the more important questions that need to be asked regarding a film like A Night at the Opera is precisely where this sits in the careers of the people involved, particularly the Marx Brothers themselves. It may not be the best introduction to their work, not because it is in any way a bad film, but rather it is one in which their broad humour is slightly more subdued – a lot of their films have more tender, quiet moments, but rather than being interludes, they are prominent setpieces that occur at vital moments in the film. It may not be a sombre affair, but there are long stretches where the Marx Brothers step away from the film, which focuses on the romantic leads. This was an understandable choice since Wood was trying to cast as wide a net as possible, which entailed looking at a range of other subjects about the upbeat humour, which was still welcome in this film, and the driving force behind the narrative, but not the only aspect that is worth discussing, which is a very strong choice, and one of the many reasons A Night at the Opera is one of their more unique films. It may be the best version of their comedy for those who are slightly more agnostic to their style – it may not convert anyone who doesn’t particularly care for their zany brand of humour, but it at least shows that their films are not exclusively driven by wacky comedy and that there is always the possibility to make something more complex with their material without abandoning the hilarity that drives this film and makes it so unique. It is difficult to not appreciate this film on a conceptual level, especially since it does try and do a few parts differently, but it all ultimately ends up being relatively similar to previous and future works produced by the troupe, so it isn’t too radical a shift in style, so it should be appealing to those who are adamant about their comedic prowess.

At first glance, it seems like A Night at the Opera is built on a very simple premise – the Marx Brothers are put on a big steamship, proving that their mischief and mayhem aren’t exclusive to terrestrial land. This alone is intriguing enough a concept to draw our attention, and this film doesn’t waste a single moment in its pursuit of certain aspects, which is usually what we’d expect from one of their films. Much like the rest of their work, this film is bold and ambitious – it makes liberal leaps in tone and tells a story that borders on the absurd at many points, but which does at the very least fit the standard of the story being told, and plays to the strengths of the performers, who are doing some of their very best work. Ultimately, venturing into A Night at the Opera and expecting something unique and different from what we have usually seen from the Marx Brothers is foolish, since it was still very much based on their popular work, and doesn’t stray too far from what is usually seen as the structural tenets of their narratives. It may mean that this is a relatively predictable film (although I’d argue that this film does very well in presenting many unexpected qualities – the jokes themselves are witty and unique, and we often can’t tell what is going to happen next from scene to scene, which has always been one of the more cherished quirks of their work), but at least we know exactly what to expect, and we can always anticipate our level of enjoyment, which is a useful commodity when discussing something like a comedic troupe – considering how many attempts there were to replicate this style of comedy, it isn’t a mystery why the Marx Brothers have stood the test of time. A Night at the Opera is one of their signature films, featuring many of their most iconic vignettes, coupled with the heartfulness and joy usually gleaned from these films. It isn’t surprising that this has been upheld as one of their most important and interesting films, since the fresh storyline, razor-sharp wit and genuinely exceptional filmmaking (credit to Wood, whose direction is incredible) help elevate this, making it a true comedic classic, and one of the best comedies of the 1930s, and one that remains as fresh today as it did at the time of its release.