Hello, I Must be Going

by Charlotte Chandler

  Yeah.

  GROUCHO

  There were some wild parties there. Sam Harris, Ring Lardner, and Hammerstein and all those people lived there.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Hammerstein wasn’t any wild party fellow. You were the wildest party—you folks.

  GROUCHO

  There was a guy there named Quinn Martin. He used to write the reviews for The Morning World. Anyhow, he came over to my house one day, and it was Rosh Hashanah. He stuck his hand out and he said, “Groucho, Rosh Hashanah.”

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  He was a critic. That’s the way a critic talks. Once the Marx Brothers got hold of Sam Helman, who used to write stories for The Saturday Evening Post. Sam was a big fellow, looked a little like George Kaufman, and was probably the most unvain man anybody could discover. But they played some childish games.

  GROUCHO

  Pinchie Winchie.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Yeah, and got black all over Sam’s face. And this whole thing was a buildup to get Sam to go to the mirror and see what a jackass he looked like.

  GROUCHO

  Pinchie Winchie.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Pinchie Winchie was a game originated by Zeppo in which the participants all sat around in a circle. The rules were simple. The man to the left of the “dealer” pinched the dealer on the cheek or the nose or the ear, and said, “Pinchie Winchie.” Then the dealer pinched the man to his right and said, “Pinchie Winchie,” and so on until it returned to the first pincher. Then he made a new pinch, and it went around the circle as fast as the players could pinch until someone made a mistake. Then he was out, and the game continued until there was only one player, who was the winner.

  Simple as this game seems, it had a novel twist: one of the players was unaware that the player to his left had a piece of burnt cork concealed in his hand, and he was being smudged each time he was pinched. This, of course, was the whole point of the game. Well, Sam was loaded, and they took him in front of the mirrors in the bedrooms, in the bathrooms, and Sam never even looked in a mirror. He kept talking to you. So they took him down to the ice-cream parlor near the theatre in Great Neck, and that place’s walls were all mirrors. And they walked Sam around, and Sam never saw himself. Damnedest thing you ever saw. Finally, in desperation they had to have him find out what he looked like, so they all drove over and woke me up. My wife and I got up, ’cause on the roof there rose such a clatter, we got out of bed to see what was the matter, and it was the Marx Brothers and Sam Helman. And they just forced Sam to look at himself. He was very astonished.

  GROUCHO

  Zeppo was responsible for that. It was just a game of Pinchie Winchie. You had some black on your fingers, and you turn to the guy next to you, and you say, “Pinchie Winchie!” and pinch his cheeks.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  A rather intellectual game. One guy was the fall guy.

  GROUCHO

  Yeah. That was Sam Helman.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  The others didn’t have black. He thought it was just people pinching each other’s cheeks.

  GROUCHO

  Some game. I didn’t tell you about Lardner in my house.

  ERIN

  Do I have to survive through this one again?

  GROUCHO

  Don’t pout. We have to go soon. (Looking at his Groucho watch) It’s a quarter to Groucho.

  ERIN

  I still want to hear about Pinchie Winchie and Sam Helman. Did you have to get him drunk to do this?

  GROUCHO

  No, you didn’t have to get Sam drunk.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  You’d just show Sam some liquor and he’d drink it. The other day I pulled a book out on Fred Allen.

  GROUCHO

  So did I. I sent one to Gummo the other day.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Well, he was telling about the routines they had. And I must tell you, there was some pretty dull stuff then.

  GROUCHO

  He had one great line. He was talking about how they played a town, a very small town on the New England coast. “The town was so small, the tide went out and never came back.” Now, that’s a great joke.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  He was a brilliant man. You know, he lived in a hotel called the Windsor about Fifty-eighth and Sixth Avenue in New York City. I brought him out here for a movie.

  GROUCHO

  I remember that movie. What was the name of it?

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Thanks a Million.

  GROUCHO

  That was when he was having the feud with Benny.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Harry Tugend came with him. He used to work for Fred Allen. Well, he and Portland [Fred Allen’s wife]…

  GROUCHO

  I met Portland last year in the Beverly Hills Hotel.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Well, they had two rooms in this Windsor Hotel—a nice enough hotel. They lived there all the time they were in New York, and they never bought one thing to make it look like a home or their place. The pictures on the wall were hotel pictures, you know. Two straight chairs and that kind of thing. I don’t think he owned anything.

  GROUCHO

  Ring Lardner used to write in a hotel in New York. He had four boys at home and couldn’t get any writing done, so he used to go to the Pennsylvania Hotel and take a room and pull all the shades down, because there might have been somebody in another room across the alley from where his room was. That’s the only way he could write. He would stay a week or two, then he’d go back to Great Neck. He used to come to my house and get drunk.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  I know someone who tapes your shows, Grouch, and plays them all day long.

  GROUCHO

  He’s crazy. Well, I have to go stand on my head now.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  Thank you for coming over.

  GROUCHO

  It’s always a pleasure to see you. You’re a funny man and you amuse me. I think you’ll like that book I brought.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  That’s all I do these days—sit around and read.

  GROUCHO

  That’s all I do too.

  NUNNALLY JOHNSON

  You’re leaving your Oscar?

  GROUCHO

  I’ll sell it to you. I was offered a thousand dollars for it the other day, but I wanted eleven hundred.

  BRONISLAW KAPER

  Composer Bronislaw Kaper got his start with the Marx Brothers: He wrote “Cosi Cosa” for A Night at the Opera, “As If I Didn’t Know” for Go West, and music for A Day at the Races. Although he knew Chico and Harpo better than Groucho, “because they were musical,” he came to know Groucho quite well over the years.

  “In the last three or four years, I have visited Groucho at his house or come to one of his parties. He would call and invite me. I knew why he really wanted me, but I pretended I didn’t. He wanted me at the piano. After lunch we would go into the living room, and he would sing his songs while I played. Groucho has all of the music there at the piano, and we played early songs of Irving Berlin’s.

  “He gave a concert in Los Angeles, and Marvin Hamlisch played for him. Marvin looked at him with tenderness and affection. Even when he forgot his lines, the audience was with him. They were in love with him.

  “Today Groucho is not as biting and aggressive as he used to be. He’s more mellow, but there’s still that spark.

  “Once I brought Mischa Dichter, the pianist, and his beautiful young Brazilian wife to see Groucho. They are very gifted young people. They wanted to meet Groucho. I called Groucho and told him about my friend and his wife, and he asked:

  “‘Can he play “Cosi Cosa”?’

  “I said, ‘He can play more than that.’

  “They were terribly shy and very reverent in Groucho’s presence. Groucho went to the bar and offered her a drink. He asked her what she wanted.

  “She sai
d, ‘May I have some gin.’

  “Groucho said, ‘Only schwartzers drink gin,’ and of course that rather finished the party.

  “Groucho’s ideas come from nowhere. His humor is from nowhere; it’s pure nonsense. I’ve always liked their song, ‘We are four of the three musketeers. One for all, two for five…’

  “This was absolutely typical of their nonsense. The team was beautifully balanced. They were great together: Groucho, Chico, and Harpo. Even Zeppo was important when they were together.

  “Harpo was unique. I used to go to his house. I remember his oldest son [Billy], who was adopted. His parents had been killed in an automobile accident. He played several musical instruments.

  “Chico was the sweetest of all the Marx Brothers. He was naïve. Chico would be playing his stuff, and I would sit down and imitate what he did with his fingers. Chico payed me a great compliment. He said I was the best imitator of his piano style.

  “Harry Ruby was one of the kindest and most beautiful people in the world. He didn’t drive a car. In Beverly Hills, you would always see him walking, and everyone would say, ‘Harry, do you need a ride?’ If you were lucky, he did.

  “One thing I like about Groucho that I find special is that he laughs at other people’s jokes. He has an open mind. Other comedians, you feel, can hardly wait to come in with their own joke.

  “Many people seem to think that stars are their property. People talk to a star on a familiar level. Strangers come up and always say, ‘Hello, Groucho,’ not, ‘Hello, Mr. Marx.’

  “I was walking with Groucho on Santa Monica, and a man came up and said to Groucho, ‘Everyone tells me I look like you when you were young.’

  “Groucho looked at the man and said, ‘If I’d looked like you, I would have killed myself.’

  “The man was struck dumb and retreated.

  “Once in a while now, someone comes up to Groucho and insults him very rudely. I suppose it is the revenge of humanity!

  “Groucho seems to care more about his clothes now. When I go to his house, he is always so beautifully dressed. Very chic, with elaborate suspenders.

  “Working with the Marx Brothers was a very young part of my life. It was beyond my imagination to get to do a picture.”

  WYATT COOPER

  When writer Wyatt Cooper was an actor, one of the parts he played was the young romantic lead in Time for Elizabeth. He told me what it was like to work onstage with Groucho:

  “Time for Elizabeth is a serious play. It’s about a man who retires in California and is bored. Groucho started off at rehearsals quite serious, but an audience inspires him. Audience reaction and laughter is for Groucho a whiff of oxygen to the brain which lifts him to heights of madness. The script grew and grew.

  “In the play I played his son-in-law. We’ve just discovered that his money has been lost in washing machines and oranges, or something like that. Groucho tells me about the loss of the money, and then he quotes his father about something, and I’m supposed to follow with, ‘I’ll get a job.’ But instead Groucho started to ad-lib, and as each ad-lib got a big laugh, he kept adding to it:

  “‘I don’t know why I keep quoting him. He didn’t have a penny when he died.’ Audience laughs. ‘As a matter of fact, I was stuck for the funeral.’ Audience laughs. ‘It cost me $49.58.’ Audience laughs. ‘I tried to write it off on my income tax, but they wouldn’t let me.’ Audience laughs. ‘I tried to write it off under “amusements.” ’ Audience laughs.”

  “I think Groucho was sorry about that last joke.

  “I was really broken up. And when I would break up, he would make some kind of personal remark about me such as, ‘My daughter married a sex fiend,’ which didn’t help me much.”

  “He responds very well to women. He is very different with women. He made them feel wanted. The women adored him.”

  “Groucho’s sense of humor was not the analytical type; it was a certain kind of inspired madness. He tries to be funny all the time, thus he says a great many things that aren’t funny. Groucho liked to think of himself as an intellectual, but he wasn’t really; he was an intellectual’s pet, which is not quite the same thing. Groucho really admired George S. Kaufman and identified with him.

  “Groucho’s feeling about what other people feel is practically nonexistent. Groucho’s wife, Eden, was an object. She had the patience and detachment of a person who has become accustomed to being an object. She was young and very beautiful. Groucho would always tell people, ‘I married her for her money.’

  “Melinda was on the tour. He really adored her. Anything she did was funny, divine. A few years ago, I met Groucho, and I asked about Melinda, and he just mumbled something. To his dismay, Melinda grew up. To adore someone doesn’t mean you have any idea about her.”

  IRWIN ALLEN

  Groucho’s friendship with producer Irwin Allen, whom Groucho for some long-forgotten reason sometimes referred to as “The Falcon,” went back to the late forties when Groucho was making pictures apart from his brothers. Later Allen produced The Story of Mankind, which featured, among other stars, all three Marx Brothers, but not together. Films like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, The Poseidon Adventure, and The Towering Inferno brought Allen increasing fame and success.

  I went with Groucho and Erin to the premiere of The Towering Inferno, where I sat next to William Holden, one of the stars of the film, who fidgeted all through the screening. Groucho had been cautioned by Erin not to be obstreperous, as he had been at the opening of The Poseidon Adventure, where he made some comments that got laughs during one of the film’s most dramatic moments.

  The next time I saw Irwin Allen was just after Groucho’s eighty-fifth birthday. He and his wife, Sheila, Groucho, Erin, and I headed for Matteo’s, a restaurant in Westwood. It was a Saturday night, the night before Groucho’s big “second” birthday party. We drove to the restaurant in the Allens’ brand-new silver Rolls-Royce:

  IRWIN ALLEN

  What do you think of my car, Groucho?

  GROUCHO

  It’s a lousy car.

  IRWIN ALLEN

  (Turning up the car radio very loud so that the rear speakers almost blasted us from our seats) I’m going to do that every time Groucho insults me.

  SHEILA ALLEN

  He didn’t insult you. He insulted the car.

  Arriving at the restaurant, Groucho got out of the car, saying, “Thank God I made it!” (The night before, Groucho had tripped getting out of the car at temple.) We were joined by Steve Allen, who was already there waiting at the table for us. He explained why his wife, Jayne Meadows, couldn’t make it for dinner.

  STEVE ALLEN

  Jayne’s been working, and when she’s working she really puts everything into it. She’s exhausted.

  GROUCHO

  (Wistfully) Yeah, when you’re working, that’s the way it is.

  Steve Allen proposed a toast “to exhaustion,” and Groucho raised his glass of tomato juice. Anxious to please his guests, Irwin Allen turned to Groucho and asked him if there was anything special he wanted:

  IRWIN ALLEN

  Do you want them to use your salt substitute in the kitchen?

  GROUCHO

  (Proffering the container of salt substitute that had been brought along) Everything I have is a substitute.

  ERIN

  Not me.

  The maître d’ presented the menu and explained some of the house specialties.

  GROUCHO

  I’d like what I had when you took me here last year.

  IRWIN ALLEN

  What did you have?

  GROUCHO

  I don’t remember, but I’ll know it when I see it. It was something like chicken.

  IRWIN ALLEN

  Was it chicken?

  GROUCHO

  No.

  IRWIN ALLEN

  Did it come with gnocchi? You know, those wobbly noodles.

  GROUCHO

  That’s what I am: a wobbly noodle.

  Gro
ucho decided to have the hot seafood appetizer, but Erin asked the maître d’ if it had salt. Groucho then decided to try one of the pastas, but Erin’s questioning confirmed that salt had already been added.

  STEVE ALLEN

  Give him a graham cracker.

  GROUCHO

  Make that an animal cracker.

  The order was finally given, and the conversation went on to shoptalk and Irwin Allen’s next film:

  ERIN

  Guess what, Groucho: He wants to do a sequel to The Poseidon Adventure. (To Irwin) But how are you going to use Gene Hackman after the way you finished him off in all that oil and water?

  GROUCHO

  Oil is very expensive.

  IRWIN ALLEN

  In the first scene, Gene is standing there, and he says, “I’m going to find out what happened to my twin brother…” But, seriously, Groucho, what’s this I was reading about how you told some reporter that Gummo is buried in Israel? I bet Gummo wasn’t at all pleased to read that.

  GROUCHO

  They don’t listen. I don’t know why. I told him that Harpo’s harp is in a museum in Israel, and it came out Gummo’s buried in Israel. They don’t listen.

  As we left the restaurant, Groucho stopped to say hello to his old friend Henry Fonda and his wife, Shirlee. Out in front of the restaurant, James Caan waited with us. His pickup truck arrived first, and he drove off while we were still waiting for Irwin Allen’s Rolls.

  Driving back to Groucho’s, we passed a movie theatre with a long line of people waiting to go in and see The Hiding Place. Irwin Allen slowed down to enjoy the sight, commenting, “I love to see a line for a movie. I don’t even care whose film it is.”

  Groucho said, “You can tell if a movie’s a success when you walk by and smell fresh popcorn.”

  NAT PERRIN

  Nat Perrin had just finished law school in New York and was studying for the bar in 1931 when he submitted a Marx Brothers skit to Groucho. He liked it and invited Perrin to come out to California to work on their next picture. Taking the bar exam on Monday and Tuesday, Perrin was on the train to California on Wednesday. The postcard arrived saying he had passed the New York bar after he had begun working on Monkey Business. He stayed on to write other Marx Brothers films, and never did practice law.