For some reason, I have always thought of Mickey Rooney as a contemporary of my mother, perhaps due to his association with Judy Garland. When he died on April 6th, my sadness was out of proportion to how much I admired him as an entertainer, because I thought that he had been the last living cast member from It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. I was wrong. Carl Reiner (Tower Controller), Marvin Kaplan (Irwin), and Barrie Chase (Sylvester’s Girlfriend) are still with us. Although Rooney reportedly changed his view later in life, he was known to have disliked the movie. Like Gleason, he was under-appreciated as a dramatic actor, and recognition for his talent could never fully rise above the criticism directed at this private life. I felt more genuine sorrow when other favored participants passed away in recent years — Peter Falk (Third Cab Driver), Sid Caesar (Melville Crump), and, of course, Jonathan Winters (Lennie Pike), the character that cracks me up the most.
Why is this motion picture my favorite comedy from childhood? Well, I can watch it anytime, anywhere, never tire of its pure humor, and know that particular scenes will always make me laugh, no matter how many times I have seen them. I viewed excerpts again today, because it is my birthday, and I realized that it has been 50 years since “Memoms,” my grandmother Dixon, took me to the Dabel Theater to enjoy the curved, widescreen version during its initial release to Cinerama venues. (actually it was shot in single-film 70mm Ultra Panavision). It was a transporting experience for a twelve-year-old boy (the ideal target viewer for the Stanley Kramer slapstick classic). Because I must have been sitting on or near the optical “sweet spot,” it was my first full-immersion sensory experience in life. Those Rooney-Hackett airplane sequences were a helluva ride, but I guess “you had to be there.”
Some people have their comfort foods. I have my comfort film. If I ever have to take the Norman Cousins prescription, “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” surely will be my laughter therapy of choice.
