One of the few reprieves from the human condition is laughter. In 1963, Stanley Kramer’s comedic cinematic debut, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, made waves as one of the first ensemble films of its magnitude. As experimental as it was epic, the film was one of the earliest comedies to achieve such a level of commercial success internationally. In many ways, it was a proto-blockbuster that predated Jaws. Unfortunately, numerous unanticipated post-production expenses prohibited the film from turning a significant profit in a fashion akin to its own subject. Despite this, Mad World remains one of the most pungent and hilarious commentaries on human greed.
Despite its playful surface, the piece assumes extravagant detail in its examination of ambition and its ensnaring nature. Specifically, the prospect of abrupt prosperity morphs a group of random strangers into paragons of recklessness and destruction illustrated in excess by physical comedy inspired by co-star Buster Keaton. Furthermore, the protagonists’ quest yields an infectious toxicity polluting nearly all who catch wind of it without discretion.
Any chance of a civil resolution and cooperation is quickly discarded at the film’s onset. Stumbling upon a dying man (Jimmy Durante, though initially Keaton was considered) in the middle of the Mojave Desert, a small group of travelers receives word of a hidden treasure: $350,000.00 in unmarked bills buried beneath “a giant ‘W’” in Santa Rosita State Park. The runaway quickly expires, a victim to the madness catalyzed by his endeavor. Rapid to determine their next course of action, the momentary Samaritans evade the first responders to the scene, “failing” to mention the most important takeaway from the encounter. In an exhaustive exchange partitioned by asides to the authorities’ office, the caravan struggles to conjure a method of disbursement for the yet-to-be-uncovered funds. Gradually their patience wanes as each subgroup’s composition vies for “a fair share.” After simply dividing the money amongst the four groups fails, Melville (Sid Caesar) develops a system of 25 allocations, awarded based on each party’s involvement, their occupations, group size, and “women’s suffrage.” Melville’s structure spurs further contention, however, as the strangers opt instead for a chaotic race towards southern California. In the face of fast and unregulated financial boon, a manic contagion leaves destruction in its wake.
A desperate competition ensues throughout the film’s bulk as the travelers’ reptilian instinct takes hold and eviscerate all others, beginning with those most marginalized by society. They oblige a primal beckoning as their ambition suffocates their already-compromised empathy. Mere seconds into their resolve towards animalism, the caravan runs a black couple off the road as the latter’s belongings tumble with them down the side of a cliff. Reinforcing the all-white racers pre-existing privilege and freshly-awakened ferocity, it comes as no surprise none of the caravan so much as award a worried glance to their victims; they were already unconsciously contributing to systemic violence upon the disenfranchised and their current quest has manifested this violence in a visceral form.
The travelers’ wrath does not recede with their first victims, and the avalanche of greed only intensifies with each subsequent participant. As the plague of ambition takes hold, more bystanders are attacked and even assimilated. After a collision forces lone truck driver, Lennie (Jonathan Winters), to proceed via bicycle, he flags down a commuting car salesman, Otto (Phil Silvers). The moment Otto receives word of the hidden fortune, however, he tricks the blue-collared hitchhiker as the former flees with the knowledge in tow as Lennie is left in the literal dust. For the remainder of the film, Otto wields discourse to a manipulative effect against all the adults he encounters. He does not proceed unscathed, as the cost of his weaponized persuasion is reflected in the deteriorating condition of the “new” car he drives. Otto’s reign does not subside until he’s unexpectedly disarmed by the encouragement of a child, completing losing his transport to a river.
Otto’s quick actions incite one the most comically violent moments of Mad World, embodied within the rage of Lennie. No longer able to suppress his anger, Lennie approaches Otto as he briefly recuperates at a mechanic’s shop. As Lennie confronts the salesman, he is apprehended by a tandem of garage employees with labor-intensive professions comparable to his own. The subsequent, comedic brawl leaves the establishment in shambles akin to the wreckage brought by gale force winds. No asset of the business is spared as the trio obliterate their surroundings. Here, Kramer posits the damage caused by the hunt for prosperity quickly grows to exceed its reward.
Despite suggesting through Otto’s trials the grasp of greed forgoes those already deprived of agency, it does not indicate duty would likewise be forgone. Otto’s behavior suggests his mischief spans beyond his actions within the film, especially given the presumption associated with his career. However, the degradation of British Officer Algernon (Terry-Thomas) and the unexpected turn of Captain Culpeper (Spencer Tracy) proves no occupational or social station will shield one once engaged by ambition’s allure.
These violent delights have violent ends.
– William Shakespeare
The intoxication of this journey does not discriminate, but momentary consideration gives way to an inkling of reason, albeit to little positive effect. Upon realizing how many random parties are scouring the grounds of the treasure’s whereabouts, playboy Sylvester (Dick Shawn) asks his mother, Mrs. Marcus (Ethel Merman), where these seemingly random excavators came from. After pausing to take note of the sheer number of fortune-hungry hopefuls, Mrs. Marcus admits in a moment of realization the mass her once quaint caravan has garnered has been lost in the whirlwind of gluttony. As the narrative shifts focus, Emmeline (Dorothy Provine) confides in Culpeper the adventure itself has felt partially ineffable, much “like a dream.” Moments later she recognizes the mythologized giant “W” as a collection of crisscrossed palms and experiences an instance of cathartic enlightenment. Her nirvana is immediately spoiled as the rest of the hopefuls recognize the sign in a telling illustration of desire’s aggression. Once ensnared by the cascade, there is no escape but ruin.
In Mad World’s penultimate scene, Kramer illuminates the only reasonable conclusion to chaos. Dangling from to fabric of their lives, the men of the rat race pile onto a cherry-picker, causing their safest getaway to buckle beneath their bulk. The racers fall victim to the whims of a crumbling tower as they are hurled across a cityscape and to their near-fatal demise. Their money in as many tatters as they find themselves, the men accept their condition as they are held together by a myriad of medical apparatuses. Though a humorous aside allows them temporary relief, the only bed they can rest on is composed of consequence.
Kramer’s film is, of course, intended to be laughed at. Built on the influence of past and involved comedians, it would have proven difficult for the work to fail commercially. Still, within the filmmaker’s uproarious humor lies a carefully crafted dissection of ambition. Among a pantheon of pre-Spielbergian blockbusters, Mad World transcends the box-office prevalence of earlier films such as Some Like It Hot, proving success is not contingent upon a genre.
