Capitalism can easily be reduced to a straightforward question: Do we live to make money, or do we make money to live? For the protagonist in Earthworm Tractors, based on the syndicated stories and later bestselling novels by William Hazlett Upson, both the stories and the novels somehow manage to be true. Alexander Botts, whose name is the perfect encapsulation of his unique quirks and upbeat demeanour, considers himself to be a “natural born salesman” and is so deeply confident in his skills to convince just about anyone to purchase whatever product he is peddling that it becomes part and parcel of his entire personality. This overconfidence leads him to a quaint southern hamlet, where he is tasked with selling a tractor to the town’s most influential businessman, who also happens to have very little interest in purchasing farm equipment, but whose protestations and outright condemnation of our protagonist and his efforts do very little to dissuade the hero from pursuing this nearly impossible task. A wonderfully eccentric and outrageously funny film, director Ray Enright (a contract director who worked with several notable comedic stars at the time) took a slightly unwieldy text and turned it into a terrific film that doesn’t take itself or its subject matter all that seriously, but still manages to be genuinely very entertaining and endearing, despite some meandering moments where it feels like it could have polished the rougher edges to be even more consistent in its ideas. A masterfully-crafted, earnest comedy with a great sense of humour and a lot of poignant commentary that comes about when we least expect it, Earthworm Tractors is an absolute delight, and a firm reminder that some of the most inventive and well-defined comedies emerged in the 1930s, usually existing on the margins but still being very much embraced by viewers at the time, leading to some of the funniest films ever made, of which this is a strong contender for a number if reasons.

A story centring on the trials and tribulations of a happy-go-lucky salesman travelling throughout the United States, plying his wares (which so happen to be enormous farm machinery in this instance) is not merely incidental, and there was a very clear reason why Earthworm Tractors was made at this time. Upson’s first story, centring on the character of Alexander Botts, appeared in 1927, meaning that it slightly predates the Wall Street crash and the Great Depression, and was thus firmly written with the era of prosperity and capitalistic gain in mind. Yet, producing a film based on these stories in the heart of this period of widespread poverty and economic uncertainty was neither accidental nor intended to be mere escapism. In times of war or economic struggle, cinema becomes a balm for those who need it, a chance to escape into an idealistic version of reality that may be fantastical, but offers some kind of comfort. Unlike some other films about the wonders of capitalism produced at the time, Earthworm Tractors is not oblivious to the plight of the communities reflected in the story – it doesn’t directly address the Great Depression, but it also refuses to view the free market as a system where money is disposable and can easily be found by those who look hard enough, an overly idealistic view that may have worked for the late 1920s when the stories were first conceived, but were certainly not relevant at this point. Capitalism comedies exist in a sub-genre that has mostly disappeared, with only a few remnants remaining, but they were an integral part of Hollywood at a particular point in the past, and it is clear why they were successful, since even in a period where the economy was at its lowest and people were struggling to make ends meet, there was some comfort in being able to witness such a witty, zany story that is filled to the brim with charm and humour, enough to conceal some of its more questionable narrative decisions that don’t quite factor into the narrative, but a still very much present in guiding the philosophy of this film, or the closest approximation to a deeper message, which many have tried to unearth in recent years when looking at these films and what they represent in terms of the era and cirmunstances that surround their creation.

As far as iconic actors of the 1930s go, you would struggle to find a more popular star than Joe E. Brown, who was one of the leading figures in comedy at the time. While the likes of Laurel and Hardy, The Marx Brothers and W.C. Fields are perhaps more acclaimed and appreciated in hindsight, it was Brown who was the most endearing of these figures, particularly because he represented a kind of everyman charm that was irresistible to viewers at the time. His elastic face could contort into any number of expressions, and his unique vocal delivery made listening to him handle some wonderfully offbeat dialogue a truly entertaining experience. Earthworm Tractors is one of the many films he made during this period, and it represents him at the peak of his fame – and like any starring vehicle, the entire film was built around his persona, rather than asking him to adapt to the confines of a specific story. The character of Alexander Botts, while not created with him in mind, was here tailor-made to fit his personality and style of comedy (and some people who grew up reading the Upson stories have stated that they would have never expected Brown to play the part), and becomes one of his defining performances. Charismatic but still extremely silly, lovably oblivious to reality and oddly resourceful, his performance represents the best qualities that he had to offer as an actor and proved to be some of his most intriguing work. It’s neither complex nor revolutionary, but it is reliably entertaining and wonderfully eccentric in a way that can be surprising to those who may not have had much prior experience with Brown and his fascinating approach to playing his characters.

We soon come to realise that the reasons that Earthworm Tractors is so endearing has very little to do with the underlying commentary, but instead are a product of its more unique style of comedy. Beyond it being built on Brown’s iconic persona, this is a genuinely funny film that is filled to the brim with unforgettable sight gags. For a film that runs just over an hour, there is an impressive amount of content compressed into quite a short amount of time, and while some of it may run for a few beats too long, or become repetitive after a while (and this is not even mentioning the attempts to shoehorn in a romantic sub-plot, which is entirely unnecessary but deemed as important based on studio-based opinions on consumer behaviour), it is a mostly entertaining affair that combines witty wordplay with slapstick humour, a blend that was growing in popularity at the time, and while it may not have reached it peak through Brown’s sometimes pedestrian style of comedy, it was certainly memorable enough to keep us engaged and invested in this story for long enough to make an impression. There are some genuine thrills scattered throughout this film, and while it is not nearly as satirical as it could have been (although it didn’t necessarily intend to be some subversive work of art), it still makes a few strong statements alongside the sometimes daring visual humour. There are some sequences, such as when the protagonist decides to help his client move homes (by which he attaches his house to a tractor and moves it across the town), that are brilliant and subversive, and show that there is still a possibility of doing something revolutionary even with such a simple, straightforward narrative that may not offer much other than some very entertaining comedy, but where this is more than enough to sustain the entire film as a whole.

Hollywood has always tended to give films the most bizarre and peculiar titles, knowing that a good title can pique the interests of audiences and bring them into theatres, even if the film itself was not particularly good or entirely represented by the label. Earthworm Tractors is one of the rare cases where the title perfectly encapsulates not only the subject matter, but also the tone of the film – strange, hilarious and unconventional, and nearly impossible to ignore once we become aware of it, which is a perfect representation of this delightful and irreverent comedy. There aren’t many films that feel so incredibly layered despite such simple subject matter and straightforward execution, but the combination of a truly magnetic star, a story that is simple but has many layers tied directly into the social and economic circumstances that surrounded the film, several memorable sight gags and slapstick sequences, and a strong directorial vision to tie everything together all work in tandem to create a film that may seem inconsequential on the surface, but has a lot of depth and nuance, a lot of which we don’t even notice until the final moments, when it becomes abundantly clear exactly what this film was striving to achieve, which was a solidly-crafted, deeply compelling comedy-of-manners initially designed to be a vehicle for Brown, but speaks to something much deeper and more intriguing. Perhaps not a film that has aged all that well, but which still offers an abundance of entertainment, the film does exactly what was required, and for this reason alone can be considered a success.