Even More Love and Admiration for W.C. Fields

Over at AltScreen, my outpouring of love and admiration for W.C. Fields continues.

"Speaking Fields: The Gift of Gab" is an appreciation of Fields' inimitable, bizarre vocabulary.

"Equal parts carnival barker and poet, Fields made ballyhoo sound like opera. As he grew older and his frame bulkier, his voice became increasingly lithesome, exhibiting an uncommon playfulness and range. Fields could shout at the top of his lungs, speak out of the sides of his mouth, or insult you under his breath, but he always brought a melody to his speech, such that one often thinks of Fields as much as a vocalist as a humorist."

I also pay tribute to my favorite Fields movie, "The Fatal Glass of Beer."

Earlier in the week, I posted a link to this paean to Fields' two most recurring character types: "The Con-Man Philosopher and the Everyday Sucker."

W.C. Fields Remembered

Over at AltScreen, I have an essay on one of my heroes, the great W.C. Fields: "The Con-Man Philosopher and The Everyday Sucker: W.C. Fields' Cheat-or-Be-Cheated Comic Persona."

Here's an excerpt:

Fields was many things on-screen—a proselytizing misanthrope, a skilled raconteur, an embittered husband, a frequent imbiber, and a kicker of children and small dogs. He was also the rare honestly crooked man in a crookedly honest world. The essence of Fields’ persona can be divided into two main types that are related like opposite sides of the same coin. He is both cinema’s most crushable charlatan and the working class everyman beaten down by life’s mundane frustrations. The two roles are a call and response: Con Man Fields is the yin to Conned Man Fields’ yang. Together they’re like object lessons in how to navigate the modern world. Cheat or be cheated.