USA, NR, 79 m, 1949
Directed by Charles Barton. Stars Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Clyde Beatty, et al. 

The Abbott and Costello jungle comedy Africa Screams will probably never enjoy the acclamations that fans normally reserve for Buck Privates or Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, but it’s a much funnier outing than, say, Mexican Hayride. Smartly paced and unswervingly goofy, Africa Screams may be one of the legendary comic duo’s most underrated efforts. Though many of the gags go splat (they’re either feebly timed or missing the requisite punch line), the chemistry between the preeminent straight-man Abbott and his tubby, scatter-brained sidekick Costello is as raucously abrasive as ever. Yes, the range of their shtick is admittedly narrow (the Marx Brothers would’ve had these guys for lunch), but after whiling away numberless Saturday afternoons during my formative years with revivals of their movies on television, the very thought of Abbott and Costello fills me with a nostalgic warmth. And I’m betting that even after I’ve ripened into an old fart, I’ll still be a fan.

Made under the auspices of Nassour Studios, Africa Screams lacks the professional sheen that distinguished Abbott and Costello’s many collaborations with Universal, but I’ve always preferred my comedies to look a little messy. (And free of song-filled romantic sub-plots.) What I could do without here is the messy exposition: Buzz Johnson (Abbott) and Stanley Livington (Costello) are working as book salesmen at Klopper’s, an enormous New York department store not unlike Macy’s or Saks Fifth Avenue. (Stanley is in charge of jungle books, though when was the last time you patronized a store that had such a section, let alone an employee to head it?) While Buzz hankers for a more affluent lifestyle, Stanley is thinking up new ways to overcome his fear of animals. (He confesses to Buzz that he was fifteen before he could summon the courage to eat his first animal cracker.) One day, a mysterious socialite, Diana Emerson (Hillary Brooke), approaches the counter and requests a copy of the book “Dark Safari,” the memoirs of some renowned African explorer. Buzz tells her that the title is out of print, but when he learns that she’ll pay $2500 for a map that was featured in the tome, Buzz’s head fills with a resounding “Cha-Ching!” He cons Diana into believing that Stanley is a globetrotting game hunter who could draw on his African adventures with the book’s author to reproduce the map. Well, one thing leads to another, and soon Buzz and Stanley are accompanying Diana on a clandestine tour through the Dark Continent. The other folks joining them on this expedition should be of interest to trivia buffs: circus impresario and lion-tamer Clyde Beatty and big- game hunter Frank Buck both play themselves; Diana’s muscle-bound goons, Grappler and Boots, are played by boxing brothers Max and Buddy Baer; Three Stooges regular Shemp Howard is on hand as Gunner, the half-blind “follow-upper” (whatever the hell that is); and another future Stooge alumnus, Joe Besser, drives the audience up a wall with his whiny turn as Diana’s butler, Harry. (Besser would also become a regular as “Stinky” on Abbott and Costello’s 1950s TV program.) Though the trip is being conducted under the guise of capturing the fabled “orangutan gargantuan” (which Buck describes as a “great big fellah, about twenty-feet high, with a face almost human”), Diana is planning to loot the region for its diamonds. Little does she know that the only map Stanley is capable of drawing is one that can point the way from his house to Klopper’s. 

Our first glimpse of Africa consists of some worn out stock footage of various critters running to and fro before we cut back to Nassour’s dime-store sets. As savage drums pound away on the soundtrack, a string of rafts carrying Diana and her odd hunting party drift toward the Congo. From the river’s bank, a crocodile’s eyes widen as he spots the ample-framed Stanley bringing up the company’s rear. Licking his chops, the ravenous beast slips into the water, but when he reemerges behind Stanley’s boat, a rubber double has replaced him. The phony crock snaps at Stanley’s paddle, which prompts a round of Costello’s patented st-st-st-stammering. (One might expect three credited screenwriters to come up with a wittier gag than that, but having Stanley use an eggbeater to accelerate his boat away from the crocodile is a nice touch.) Once on foot, our would-be adventurers run into some of the jungle’s other tenants: a lion springs from the foliage and sends Stanley and Buzz fleeing in two different directions. During the commotion, Stanley hears a ground trap (one of dozens that Buck laid down to ensnare the “orangutan gargantuan”) give way beneath somebody’s feet. Fearing it was Buzz who fell in, Stanley throws down a rope, but to his st-st-st-stuttering surprise, he pulls out a gorilla. True to form, Stanley falls into a faint, but the clearly smitten simian fans him back to consciousness and proceeds to follow Stanley around the jungle for the rest of the picture. The gorilla (played by Charlie Gemora, who donned similar ape outfits in Ghost Parade, The Monster and the Girl, Road to Zanzibar and God only knows how many other flicks) is a little shy: he retreats into the jungle whenever Stanley alerts Buzz to his presence. But the ape isn’t reticent about throwing down with any man or beast that jeopardizes Stanley’s well-being, and he furtively helps his portly pal out of one fine mess after another. 

Following some kooky digressions that include a misadventure in a lion cage, Buzz and Stanley happen upon a diamond the size of Ohio. But before Buzz can tally up all the things he’s going to buy with it, he and Stanley spot another. Then another. And soon the boys are lustily following a trail of the sparkling rocks, which turns out to be a ruse engineered by an awaiting tribe of cannibals. (Showing husky black men in grass skirts with huge bones shoved through their noses always ensures at least a couple of sniggers, eh?) The tribe’s leader (Martin Wilkins, who fashioned a career out of playing parts like this in Congo Maisie and Law of the Jungle) finds Stanley’s build to be nothing short of mouth-watering. But his dinner plans are dashed when the “orangutan gargantuan” (whose size rivals that of King Kong) finally shows up, prompting the dusky faces of the cannibals to turn white—literally. 

Africa Screams may be copiously padded with substandard material (much of which is lifted from previous A&C pictures) to offset its lanky plot, but director Charles T. Barton, who helmed the far superior Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, keeps things moving so swiftly that you don’t seem to mind. The film isn’t exactly a scream, but it has more than a few honest chuckles. 

January 9, 2005 

© Copyright 2007 by Edward Larsen Terkelsen. All rights reserved.