W. C. Fields: A Biography

There have been several memorable biographies about The Great Man, yet James Curtis' "W.C. Fields" (2003) surpasses them all. For once, Curtis separates the reality from the mythology. The result is a more balanced portrait that includes a surprising amount of previously unknown information, particularly in regard to the comedian's radio work and his final years. Curtis has written a valuable chronicle of a truly original artist whose wit and serio-comic wisdom remain embedded in America's cultural landscape.

James Curtis offers a well-researched and engagingly written biography of one of the most enigmatic figures ever to appear in the entertainment business. W.C. Fields was one of the most talented, yet underused (by contemporary definition) performers in show business, whether in vaudeville, burlesque, Broadway, Hollywood or radio. Originally a physical performer (juggling) before evolving into a diverse comedian and actor, Fields spent his entire life developing a unique public persona that became, in all appearances, to be the private man as well. Mr. Curtis paints a textured portrait of a man by turns, remarkably generous, yet often parsimonious, stubbornly difficult, yet frequently courtly and gracious.The book focuses on Mr. Fields personal life to a level rarely reached in more traditional biographies. The chapters on Field's childhood and early days in show business provide tremendous insight on the man he would become and explain the contradictory nature of the man. There is a sense of tragedy of a great man who begins to fade, both in physical abilities and later, mental acuity, consumed by alcoholism, an unhappy marriage and a number of failed personal relationships. The book reads like a novel as Mr. Curtis blends description and dialogue seamlessly throughout the 600+ pages.I was struck by the revelations of W.C. Fields personal graciousness and generosity as most previous biographies of the man portray him as a rather one-dimensional caricature. Yet, like most great talents, Fields was an incredibly complex man. This biography does him, nearly 60 years after his death, justice.

The most famous quote by W. C. Fields is, "Any man who hates dogs and children can't be all bad." The trouble is, it wasn't said by him. It was said about him by, of all things, an anthropologist who was studying the motion picture industry. And it was not close to true about Fields. Among the many pleasing revelations in _W. C. Fields: A Biography_ (Knopf) by James Curtis is that Fields was not inimical to children. Oh, he didn't like dogs very much, but he owned a few and didn't put up objections against the species. And he didn't like Baby Leroy, the child co-star most associated with him. The [child] was terrified by Fields's appearance and could burst into tears at any scene, and it does seem to be true that Fields spiked the nipper's orange juice with gin to make him more a trouper. But throughout Fields's life he was partial to children. Will Rogers's son remembered Fields as a guest for dinner, both because he took time to talk to the boy, and because he juggled the brand new imported glass plates for his entertainment; his mother was not as well pleased. Watching kids at an Indian reservation play ball, he saw them using a wad of tape for a ball and a stick for a bat; he had an Indian pal buy full equipment, but warned, "If you tell a soul I did this, ...I'll never supply you with any more booze." He ingratiated himself to young Freddie Bartholomew, who played David Copperfield as a boy, by asking, "Tell me, son, are you a midget or am I overgrown?"The stories about Fields and children are scattered throughout this large and detailed volume. It might be that they were a reaction against his own childhood, but that childhood was not as bad as he liked to make it seem. He early discovered he had a genius for juggling, and began imitating the comic tramp juggler acts he would see on the vaudeville circuit. He began talking more during the performances, conquering a stammer and forming a habit of ad libs that was to be a blessing and a curse throughout his career. He did less juggling as he worked in more legitimate theater, like the Ziegfeld Follies in which he performed from 1915 - 1925. He concentrated on sketches that emphasized physical comedy and his perpetual warfare against inanimate objects, like the family car, twisted pool cues and floppy golf clubs. Such performances were incorporated into his films, the best of which often were only excuses for a series of sketches. He had done some silent films, but worked in Hollywood full time starting when he was all of fifty-one years old. He had strong friendships, but a terrible marriage. His death at age 66 in 1946 was hastened by the alcohol he loved; he had drunk very moderately while his juggling act depended on superb coordination. His intake became legendary, and a part of his persona, and a recurrent joke that he himself enjoyed. He did not, though, play drunks on screen, however much the characters imbibed, and he was ashamed of those who let alcohol degrade their film work. This

Finally, THE definative biography of one of the most revered figures ever to appear on the world stage or step before a motion picture camera. While there've been almost two dozen books about Fields published already, (mostly filmographies, quote books, picture books or screenplays,) this collection is essential for several important reasons. First of all, it's one of the best biographies of a film personality ever written. Head and shoulders above Simon Louvish's sluggish "MAN ON THE FLYING TRAPEZE", more ambitious than Ronald J. Fields' collection of letters and radio scripts: "W.C. FIELDS BY HIMSELF," on a literary par with Robert Lewis Taylor's brilliant "W.C. FIELDS: HIS FOLLIES AND FORTUNES," (but without that author's fictional flights of fancy,) James Curtis turns out to be the ideal biographer of the iconoclastic comedian. Setting the record straight regarding volumes of Fieldsian apocrypha, the legend remains intact whilst the enigmatic man behind it emerges for perhaps the first time in print. Full of nostalgia, fascinating revelations about Fields' working methods and creative approach to filmmaking, scandalous professional behavior, revealing personal data, heretofore unsuspected alliances, (It comes as no surprise that Fields was a fan and drinking pal of his tempermental soulmate, H.L. Mencken.) and many, many wonderful anecdotes. The ideal book to curl up with on a winter's eve, (when it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast,) with the necessary pitcher-full of your favorite "snake bite remedy," as Fields would say. (He'd also recommend you always carry a small snake...) A worthy tribute to a giant of American comedy. ***** 5 stars, easy.

Pardon my redundancy, but this is a great book. Having shown his proficiency at film biography in the past (if you have not opened your purses to acquire his previous tomes on James Whale and Preston Sturges-get them NOW!! [you lugs]), Curtis supersedes all previous attempts with William Claude Dukinfield and gets to the palpitating heart of this truly sad and angry clown.Cutting through all the myth and legend, which has overshadowed Fields prodigious talents ever since his death in 1946, Curtis talks about the Dickensian childhood, the ultimate triumph on the stage, the marriage that neither party seems to have really worked on, the drinking (which was quite widespread amongst so many in vaudeville, only Fields knew how to use the persona to his advantage), the wonderful films and just how the comic really felt about dogs and children. After digesting this extremely well-researched and pungently written book, one comes away with the feeling that the W. C. Fields that has become universally known mostly through the famous picture of him playing poker or via imitators who cannot even come close to his character is only an infinitesimal part of him. This book presents a human being that was full of flaws, most of which he created to protect himself from a world that he fought tooth and nail. The Fields that was on the screen (especially the masterpiece IT'S A GIFT, one of the greatest comedies ever made, if not one of the greatest films) is not just the cliche drunken ogre that people remember from the late show, but a person full of hurt who could also show a tender side-see the chapter on NEVER GIVE A SUCKER AN EVEN BREAK for a deleted scene with Fields at the deathbed of a female character-without being false. I love this book, and it makes a fine companion to grandson Ronald's book of the material Fields was gathering for his own autobiography (another book worth looking for). The two best books on film history so far this year have been about the great curmudgeons the screen has given us (Fields and Sam Fuller) who also had life and spirit which is constantly shown in the greatness of their work. Let this be the definitive work on the greatest comedian of the sound era.