Schlocktoberfest XV – Day 24: The Cat And The Canary (1939)

The Cat And The Canary (1939)

Country of Origin/Production: The America of 1939

Trailer:

*Spoilers Throughout*

What’s This About: An inheritance read in a scary house with a scary guy running around scaring scared people.

Here are some of my observations as I watched the film:

This doesn’t look like it’s gonna be scary.
Bob Hope? In a schlocktoberfest? That’s a first.
We in Louisiana for this one.
Well the guy in the canoe played Moriarty in one of those Basil Rathbone Sherlock flicks once.
The Indian rowing the canoe (sorry, Indigenous American) cannot be more of a stereotype. This movie is from 1939, so strap in snowflakes – you’re going to see some racist jokes and puns.
When a black cat crosses your path it’s bad luck, when it hisses at you and runs away, you’re fucked.
I see in ’39 that cameramen didn’t care about holding the fucking thing still during the filming of a scene.
See hear ya mug, I am in no mood for a movie filled with 1930’s vernacular.
Wasp family reunions truly are a delight. Especially in haunted houses.
I have to sit through a fucking hour of Lame ass Bob Hope jokes.
If there are to be any murders, I hope cousin Cicily is killed first.
Everyone is related someway, but it looks like they all want to fuck each other.
Miss Lu is fucked in the head.
The gong tells Miss Lu that one person will be dead by morning.
It’s a start.
These two leading men look like they were in at least seven chapters of that Scotty Bowers book.
To get the money you have to stay overnight – OK, sure. You also can’t go insane – shit, I’m out then.
The pretty girl inherits everything, because that’s all it takes.
I love old comedians, but I was never a Hope fan all that much. I grew up with his variety specials and I never found them funny, sorry.
Aunt Susan suggests they sleep together, then Cicily raises the pot and says they should all sleep together. This party’s picking up.
Miss Lu pulled a Criss Angel. She didn’t do a magic trick, she just sucks. Ha!
Charlie’s giving Joyce the “forget that other woman” speech. It sounds like horse shit even in the thirties.
What fucking insane asylum guard knocks on your door saying there’s a maniac on the loose?
Even Dr. Loomis only told the town sheriff.
The killer gets on all fours to kill? What a douche.
This is such a rip-off of Mary Roberts Rhinehart’s “The Bat.”

This looks like Chris Evans’ grandfather shitting his pants in fright.
I guess they had to call the killer The Cat since Batman debuted a mere six months before this movie’s release.
No one really cares about fingers in mouse traps anymore.
The old eyes-in-the-painting watching the girl gag.
Joyce reads about canaries dying of fright when they see cats, and we have a move title.
The entire library and Joyce picks “The Psychology Of Fear” to read. Silly bitch.
Mr. Crosby’s demise is fucking hysterical.
How do you get a secret door so fucking quiet? Nadine Hurley’s grease-covered cotton balls for her patent-pending silent drape runners would be jealous.
This could be a decent Old Dark House mystery if it weren’t for Hope’s horrible one-liners.
Miss Lu isn’t hopeful for Mr. Crosby’s safe return.
Is the Cat wearing a mask, or is the makeup as bad as Hope’s jokes.
Was wondering how long it would take for a fucking golf joke.
Miss Lu is an ammo pincher, she should be prosecuted.
She was also fucking the guy who died whose will started this whole thing.
I think I know who The Cat is already.
Those darned haunted houses, always acting up at the wrong time. Sing me out Simmons…
In the 30’s and 40’s I think all white people had to consume tobacco every ten minutes of their lives.
I hate wills that have rhyming riddles. Just give me the fake Ming vase and lemme try and beat the traffic ya miserly old fuck.
I liked it when Jack Colton found the treasure better.
I hope this poor black cat got a stunt bonus, because it’s getting the shit beat out of it.
All of this flirting and innocent kissing, and you still had to get married if you wanted to fuck. What a predicament.
Never put diamonds under your pillow with an escaped maniac about you silly girl, it renders you powerless.
Brandy was the antidote for fainting, good ‘ole days indeed.
Leading ladies had to sleep in heels? Fucking hell.
There was a level of overreacting in the old days that came across as endearing.
Pull the secret lever and Mr. Crosby’s corpse falls out of a secret room. Isn’t that always the way Sam?
I would love it if Hope was the killer, he’s not, but it would have been nice for a change.
I thought the secret passageway was from the conservatory to the lounge.
Hope really connected all the dots PDQ.
I wonder if Dolores ever knew how much tail Bob was getting all those years. He did have gonorrhea.
The Cat gives Bob Hope a nice belt to the noggin.
The nearest telephone in those days was always 20 miles away.
They really wanted to film in those secret passageways, and by George they did.
Is there anyone not in these passageways?
I figured the guard from the asylum was fake, he’s pissed at the Cat for escalating things with murder.
BTW, henchmen who say, “I didn’t sign up for this” always immediately get killed.
Miss Lu’s got a gun, her whole world’s come undone. Now everybody is on the run.
What did her daddy do?
Thus music sounds a lot like Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein.
The Cat gets Joyce cornered, but Hope runs in and calls the Cat by his real name:
Charlie is “The Cat” killer.
His motive? He should get the inheritance since he was the old man’s favorite.
Yawn.
Miss Lu enters frame and blows Charlie away with her shotgun that went booya.
Joyce and Hope are now engaged, which means they are announcing that they want to go fuck.