It's a Gift (1934): Fields' Best Misery, Still a Treat

Alright, if you’ve got a soft spot for old-school comedy, especially the kind where a character just *suffers* through life, then yes, It's a Gift is absolutely worth digging up today. Fans of W.C. Fields will find him in top form here, delivering some of his most iconic bits. If you need fast-paced jokes or modern storytelling, though, this one might feel a bit slow and, well, *old*. But for pure, observational humor about a guy just trying to catch a break? Oh yeah. 🍊

W.C. Fields plays Harold Bissonette, and honestly, the name itself feels like a sigh. He runs a little grocery store that's more like a warzone. Every customer is a problem, every family member a fresh headache. He just wants to plant oranges in California. It’s a simple dream, really.

The movie doesn't really have a big, sprawling plot. It’s more a collection of brilliant, agonizing moments. Little scenes that build up to something ridiculous. You feel for the guy, even when he’s being a bit of a grump himself.

The Agony of the Everyday

One bit that just sticks with you is the 'Carl LaFong' scene. Oh man. Harold is trying to take an important phone message, and the guy on the other end just cannot, for the life of him, understand the name. LaFong. L-A-F-O-N-G. Fields's face, the way his voice gets more and more strained, it's just perfect. You can almost feel his blood pressure rising. 📞

Then there’s the famous backyard nap scene. Harold just wants to sleep on the porch swing. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, yes. The world conspires against him. The doorbell rings, a kid bounces a ball right onto his head, then a car alarm, and then, the milk bottle. It’s like a symphony of annoyance. The camera just stays on him, letting the silence get broken by *another* little thing. It gets so funny because it’s so relatable, you know?

His wife, played by Kathleen Howard, is a force. She’s constantly harping on him, never letting him have a moment’s peace. She doesn't have many lines that are laugh-out-loud funny on their own, but her *presence* and the sheer volume of her nagging is the real joke. It’s relentless.

And the kids! Especially Baby LeRoy. That kid is a menace. In one scene, he’s messing with Harold’s toes, just gently, but persistently. It's a small detail. But it’s the kind of thing that makes you think, “Yeah, that’s exactly what a toddler would do.” 👣

The Grocer's Grind

The grocery store itself is a character. It's dusty, a bit messy, and filled with old-timey products. Harold is trying to deal with a blind customer, who, bless his heart, is just a disaster waiting to happen. Harold tries to guide him, but the man just keeps breaking things. You can see Harold’s patience wearing thinner than a slice of deli ham.

It’s not just the big gags; it’s the little moments of despair. Harold taking a swig from a hidden bottle, the way he just stares off into space, dreaming of oranges. You feel it. That longing for escape.

The movie is pretty much a series of these *situations*. There isn't a complex storyline building to some big reveal. It's just Harold existing, trying to survive his day. And that’s what makes it so good. It trusts you to get the humor from the slow burn of his frustration.

Sometimes, the scene goes on about 20 seconds too long, and the silence starts to feel awkward rather than emotional, but then something else happens, and you're back in. The timing feels so organic. It’s not trying to be slick. It's just letting life unfold, painfully.

The ending, where he finally gets to California, almost feels too easy after everything he’s been through. But it’s a nice, simple payoff. A small moment of peace. You root for him to get there.

Didja notice?

• The way Harold constantly tries to sneak a drink.
• The sheer number of times someone calls him 'Harold' in that really annoying, sing-song way.
• The customer who insists on buying a specific type of cracker and then just leaves them all over the floor.
• Harold’s strange contraption to keep Baby LeRoy from messing with him in bed. So much effort for so little gain.
• How the film just kind of… ends. No big send-off, just a quiet resolution.

This isn't a movie that needs flashy effects or a huge budget. It's all about one man's struggle against the tyranny of the mundane. And W.C. Fields just sells it. Every exasperated sigh, every weary glance, it’s a masterclass in comedic suffering. Truly, It's a Gift.