User reviews

It's a pity that some of the one time classic works of popular culture are now dusty and distant to most of us. This is particularly true of that remarkable medium of radio. Radio had an impact from 1920 to 1960, when it was replaced by television. Television assaulted radio with it's versions of talk shows and game shows. It was one thing to hear that Mr. X won a new car, but quite more effective to see Mr. X looking at a new Buick or Rambler or Oldsmobile. It was more interesting watching Edward R. Murrow on Person to Person with a celebrity than just listening to them talk (in one case Murrow did one interview that was impossible on radio - he interviewed Harpo Marx).

There was just one area that radio beat out television. By relying on voices only, radio stimulated the imagination of the audience. It was very effective in comedy shows. Jack Benny would say he had to get some money, and the sound effects would create (in the listener's minds) the fabled Benny vault, which was further down than Fort Knox's and guarded by a Civil War veteran. Fred Allen would go outside down Allen's Ally, and interview a cross section of the American public every week, including a relic of New England, a voice of the deep south, and a Jewish lady who constantly mangled English and managed to make her family's triumphs and travails part of the issue.

Allen is sadly forgotten today - you can get recordings of his show on tape, but the references deal with the political/social world of the 1940s and 1950s. This is the fate of all topical humor. Just wait four decades and play that hysterical list joke by David Letterman or opening monologue by Jay Leno to some teenagers. See how quickly they get bored and ask you "Did you really find this funny?"

Allen was sharp in his comments - the most remembered is his reference to the size of a heart of a Hollywood agent (which was smaller than an olive pit). He would be able to skirt censors pretty well. In one sketch he talked of a new sponsor - a watch manufacturer named Fuller Bullova. With his normal group of second bananas Allen would satirize the politics of the period, or the social figures of the day (Dawson Bells, a prominent actor/producer,describing his latest movie says, "The street is a symbol, the music is a symbol, the drums are a symbol, the cymbal is a symbol!"). Allen wrote his own material, and wrote very well.

If he is remembered it is for the fake feud he had with his friend Jack Benny. Apparently it began when he pretended that Benny had not been funny at all. Benny laughed, called Allen up and asked if he could zing some back at him. Allen was smart enough to say yes - and the feud became famous in radio lore. It also got into their films, where Allen and Benny would confront each other (most notably in the whole film LOVE THY NEIGHBOR). In this film, there is only one scene of Benny with Allen and it is a different type of joke. Whereas the two are clashing in LOVE THY NEIGHBOR, in IT'S IN THE BAG it is a scene where a desperate Allen goes to try to re-buy a chair from Benny, who is all to happy to sell it back - he sells everything as either a souvenir of your visit or a refreshment (including water). Allen, to see Benny, has to pretend he's a fan, and asks him the secret of his success, and Benny explains that the basis is his timing - he is constantly delaying audience reaction (which should be hostile) by slowly reacting as he thinks about what he said and wonders what it means.

IT'S IN THE BAG shows Allen at his best, because it is not shared with Benny as LOVE THY NEIGHBOR, or shared with Jimmy Durante in SALLY, IRENE, AND MARY. He is in the center, trying to reclaim a stolen or missing fortune (hidden in a chair). To do this requires him dealing with his wife Binnie Barnes, with his daughter's potential father-in-law Robert Benchley, with crooked lawyers John Carridine and John Miljan, and with hostile police detective Sidney Toler (his second best comic performance after THE PHANTOM PRESIDENT). He also crosses paths with an insane (and insatiably hungry) psychiatrist (Jerry Colonna), and a gang boss who would like to go straight, but inherited his gang from his mother, Machine Gun Molly. The gang boss is William Bendix. Allen's humor is in his sharp reactions to everyone around him.

My favorite moment is when he and Binnie go out to a nightclub, to hear the doorman say, "Plenty of room folks! Always plenty of room!" There is no more room. Later that same night thy go to the movies only to find the same idiot using the same spiel to bring more people into the theater. They do find seats in something like the twelfth level of balconies. In disgust at his poor seats (they can barely see a screen), Allen goes out to find the manager (Emory Parnell). He complains about the witless idiot bringing people in when there are no decent seats. Parnell is upset, until he hears who was responsible. "Oh that's Joe," he says while he laughing, "Good old Joe, ever the optimist!" This is his sole explanation of what happened.

The film is resolved happily, with most of the people involved showing up at a party at the Floogles. As he watches them arriving, Allan shakes his head and says, "Everything but the kitchen sink." A moment later one of them lowers a kitchen sink. Perfect ending to a laugh fest.

Fred Allen made a living hurling brickbats and biting the hands that fed him, and one may surmise that his only starring role in a major motion picture would push the envelope. "It's in the Bag" does so, sometimes with breathtaking efficiency -- it's like a whole different world opened up in this film apart from typical 1940s screwball comedy, a negative, street smart and cynical attitude more in line with the comedic tone of later eras. But if you want to laugh, you might do better with a more typical screwball comedy of the period than with "It's in the Bag," as its episodic and composite construction as a film doesn't maintain a consistent level of hilarity, and parts of it are more confusing than funny. Fred Allen is terrific, and one wishes he'd been more interested in appearing in films, though his best work is unquestionably found in his radio programs; his deadpan mug, though, is effective in movies even though he had "a great face for radio." Binnie Barnes, Robert Benchley, John Carradine and William Bendix all stand out in this piece, and in the main "It's in the Bag" is definitely worth seeing at least once for its value as a dark, non-conformist alternative to American film comedies of the 1940s. However, it's a little too long, has too many moving parts and Fred Allen seems aware of that, stating in his ad-libbed annotation of the opening credit for producer Jack Skirball, "It's his picture."

I was surprised by the quality of the writing in this forgotten exhibition of the comic talents of radio personality Fred Allen. The story is one of those madcap farces in which a virtually non-existent plot is held together by a relentless barrage of jokes and quips which, for a change, hit more often than they miss.

Allen plays Fred F. Trumble Floogle, the penniless owner of a flea circus who unexpectedly comes into an inheritance when a distant relative is murdered. What Fred doesn't realise is that most of the fortune has already been siphoned off by crooked lawyer John Carradine and his cronies, and the few hundred thousand dollars that remains is hidden in one of a set of five chairs that have been sold at auction. There then follows a fast paced hunt for the missing chairs that leads Floogle into the paths of all manner of unusual characters. One of these is Jack Benny, and the film has a great time poking fun at his legendary stinginess. Two of the chairs have been sold to a nightclub where Floogle finds former stars Don Ameche, Rudy Vallee and Victor Moore working (Ameche has run out of things to invent in the movies so is reduced to working as a singing waiter to make ends meet.)

The story continues in this vein for ninety minutes, but very rarely does the pace – or quality of the jokes – flag. Others have pointed out that many of the gags will be lost on those with no – or little – knowledge of the period, but there's still plenty of timeless jokes that still work today.

"It's in the Bag" is pretty obscure, but it's very funny. I am a big fan of old radio comedy shows, and thus was interested in seeing Jack Benny, Fred Allen, and other OTR personalities in a movie. Jerry Colonna as a nutty psychiatrist is the funniest role in the movie. Lots of good typical one-liners from Allen, and the opening, featuring Allen making sarcastic comments about the credits as they appear on the screen, was, I presume, a very original idea for a 1940s movie. If your local video store has this movie and you want some good laughs, check this one out.

Fred Allen was primarily a radio comedian who had reached the height of his popularity around when this film was made in 1945. Today in the circles of those who appreciate old time radio he's still not as widely-heard as his longtime pseudo-rival Jack Benny, but those who know him tend to regard him highly for his sardonic and satirical wit, directed in mockery of almost everything. "It's in the Bag!" was his only starring film, and one can believe there was a good amount of confidence in it, as star cameo appearances abound.

Allen plays a flea circus ringmaster who learns he has been left a fortune in this fairly standard farce-caper plot, and the result is a film that is intermittently quite funny but doesn't ever really seem to know whether it is a film version of radio's successful Fred Allen Show, or a standard-issue comedy film that happens to have Fred Allen for a lead actor. It opens rather delightfully and refreshingly with Allen addressing the audience and making a series of jokes amusingly mocking the practice of prefacing a film with a few minutes of credits. Throughout, characters will occasionally break the fourth wall and turn to the screen with a sardonic comment on the action.

However, "It's in the Bag!" doesn't go the whole hog as far as being a witty satire on the tropes and conventions of the comedy film. If it had it would have played right to Allen's strength and probably been much more memorable. As it is, it goes through its fairly generic plot -- in which Allen must find one of a number of chairs, now sold, which contains a trove of money, with about the usual proportion of gags that work to those that don't.

Mixed in there is a Fred Allen character who is somewhere between his radio self and a straight representation of his character in the storyline (though he never loses his distinctive demeanor and delivery). Sometimes he chimes in with his personal style of removed, observant wit, and sometimes that element is gone. We take a virtual sideline from the plot for a few minutes as Fred engages in a typically batty (and funny) exchange with the staple radio character of Mrs Nussbaum, now with pictures added.

It's Allen's picture, of course, but perhaps the highlight is the substantial and wonderful scene where Jack Benny appears, complete with a brief voice cameo from Mary Livingston and plenty of well-executed iterations of the running gag about his impossible cheapness (I loved the hat-check girl in his closet). Benny and Allen have the same chemistry as they do in their immortal radio rivalry, but while Benny is his radio character, the pretense is kept up that Allen's character doesn't actually know him.

Allen's actual performance is comically good and less static than one might expect having seen his appearances in television and other films -- he even does some gymnastics in the jail at one point. His genius son is a pretty funny running gag, and William Bendix gives a very funny performance as a milquetoast, vitamin-guzzling gangster.

There are some other great cameos here too from the world of radio, and a number of very funny and unusual sequences (such as a very questionable psychiatrist convinced he's being attacked by tsitsi flies and obsessed with eating Fred's food), but there's also a sense that if it had fully committed to reflecting Fred Allen;s style of humor all the way through and satirizing film themselves, or to bring the world of his radio series to the screen instead of marrying these with some otherwise typical material.

Fred F. Trumble Floogle (Fred Allen) runs a struggling flea circus. He is excited to inherit his great uncle's $12 million fortune. Instead, the will gives him only five chairs. In expectation of a windfall, he had racked up a number of debts and everybody thinks that he's rich. In frustration, he sells the chairs before finding out that there is money hidden in one of them.

It's low level wisecracking fun. I may not laugh a lot or that hard, but there is a sense of general merry making. It has a few of the comedic talents of the era. This probably works better with fans of these personalities. Fred Allen has a bit of fun with Jack Benny. I get a lot of the ideas but it needs an audience familiar with these performers.

Fred Allen was--with the possible exception of his "rival" Jack Benny--the biggest star in the history of radio. He was Letterman to Benny's Leno--an acerbic smartaleck who practically invented topical humor/current political events satire. While he had numerous small film roles and cameos (and later starred in TV's "What's My Line?"), "It's In The Bag" was Fred Allen's only starring role in a motion picture, and it was a good one.

The plot--Allen gaining, then losing, then frantically trying to recover an inheritance hidden inside one or more mystery chairs--is just a skeleton on which to hang the movie's wry jokes, strange interludes and satirical jabs at Hollywood stars. A trainload of radio and film comedians appear in this movie, including Jack Benny (with whom Allen shared a longtime "feud" that was as successful--and as manufactured--as anything the World Wrestling federation ever produced). Author and bon vivant Robert Benchley makes a strong appearance here, and Richard Wallace's steady direction manages to keep up with the comic mayhem.

Allen's irreverent humor, wild tangents and complete disregard for film conventions (including the sacred fourth wall) inspired Mel Brooks, who, drawing from its source material, made a version of "It's In The Bag" as his second feature, "The Twelve Chairs"--although literary purists who love the original darkly satiric Russian novel by Ilf and Petrov, take note: you will likely hate both these movies with a fiery passion. Even faithful Russian screen adaptations of that extraordinary book have failed to capture its greatness, and "It's In The Bag" doesn't even try--it's merely a sardonically humorous sendup of 1940s Hollywood in general and Mr. Allen in particular. It's no intricate Russian literary classic, but if you love vintage Hollywood comedies with an edge, you won't be disappointed.

This star-studded comedy, inspired by the Russian tale "The Twelve Chairs" (I am familiar with the 1970 Mel Brooks version, but have yet to check out the 1962 Cuban adaptation or, for that matter, the 1936 George Formby vehicle KEEP YOUR SEATS, PLEASE – both of which I also own), was one other movie apparently favoured by famed British critic Leslie Halliwell. The nominal lead here is once-renowned radio comic Fred Allen in one of his infrequent screen appearances: he demonstrates an agreeable self-deprecating humour throughout, right from the entertaining 'opening credits' sequence – with every name that crops up being indiscriminately given the put-down by Allen!

He plays the owner of a flea circus, with a demanding family to support and an expensive gambling habit to feed, who suddenly comes into a 12-million dollar fortune – bequeathed to him by an uncle. Immediately, he goes up in society (literally lodging in the penthouse of a swank hotel) – amassing a lot of credit in the process (including a 25,000-dollar stake in an elaborate mouse-trap patent invented by Robert Benchley, father to his daughter's intended), only to learn when the actual hearing of the will takes place (by way of crooked solicitor John Carradine) that all that has been left to him are five chairs and a phonograph record! The latter, however, reveals that a considerable pile from the booty – that which had not yet been pilfered by Carradine and his associates – was hidden in one of the chairs…which Allen had his geeky son sell off to an antique dealer, whose shop is burnt to the ground soon after! So begins a chase to retrieve the furniture, which in the interim has been acquired by a number of people…

In the meantime, Allen's 'memory expert' son is suffering from a bout of amnesia following the near-escape in the afore-mentioned fire, so eccentric psychiatrist Jerry Colonna is roped in to treat him…but he is more successful at satiating his appetite, since he goes so far as to establishes himself in their home! Besides, a relaxing outing at a movie theatre – showing the fictitious but hilariously-named "Zombie In The Attic" – is likewise turned into an absurd situation, as Allen and wife (Binnie Barnes) are referred by a variety of ushers from one floor to the next in search of an alleged seating-space! The film eventually assumes an episodic form, with the pace faltering slightly depending on the scene: a Jewish lady's decision to obtain an extra chair for her large family's annual gathering; Allen's real-life sparring partner on the airwaves Jack Benny, appearing as himself, and to whom the protagonist pretends to be the President of his meagerly-populated fanclub…but whose surreal abode is equipped with hat-check girl and cigarette vending machines, where guests have to pay for every service they may require!; in his quest, the star also has to impersonate a singing waiter – as part of an ensemble that incorporates 'washed-out' actors Don Ameche, Victor Moore and Rudy Vallee!; finally, he ends up at the lair of gangster William Bendix, but who is revealed to be a softie underneath and a vitamin freak to boot! Following all of this with interest and increasing confusion is ageing cop Sidney Toler (then nearing the end of his extensive stint as Charlie Chan!)…

The movie ultimately proves a minor classic of its era – much in the style of HELLZAPOPPIN' (1941), starring the similarly forgotten team of Olsen & Johnson! – and, though recently allowed a new lease on life via Olive Films' BluRay edition, I watched it myself by way of an old but, under the circumstances, perfectly serviceable "VHSrip"

It's in the Bag! (1945)

I watched this for the bizarre reason that I wanted to see William Bendix in a film I'd never seen. And here this presented itself.

And Bendix does finally show up in the last twenty minutes. And he plays himself, William Bendix. I didn't imagine he ever had that kind of star power.

But more interesting are the other characters, or actors, who make their own appearances as themselves, and who are far and away the bright spots in a patchy and silly movie. Jack Benny, for one, is great to see being Jack, but not just as a stand up comedian. And throw in brief appearances by Don Ameche, John Carradine, and Rudy Vallee to give it a little more fun. Finally, use the quirky, very 1945ish style of Fred Allen in his only feature film role to hold the whole thing together, from talking to the camera intro through all the various comings and goings, famous and not.

But don't get me wrong. This is a horrible experience as a movie, in all. It's downright stupid, which isn't a word I use in reviews. A better word might just by corny, but that gives too much credit to the crude way the movie is directed and mashed together into an apparent cohesiveness. It's not cohesive, so enjoy the bits. In fact, you might just fast forward to the parts with the actors you recognize and get some little rushes from that, including the last long section where a kind of crime is enacted, including some campy thugs and a fake out that will certainly fake you out.

Okay, so Hitchcock's wife helped with the screenplay. Not something to brag about, probably, though there are a lot of laughs here. In fact, if it's gags you want, hang in there, because there is a steady stream, including some classic Allen schtick. Good enough for Mel Brooks to do a kind of remake of it in 1970 ("The Twelve Chairs"). This wasn't enough for me, totally, but you know if you like this kind of humor before going into it.

And I did get my William Bendix fix, however, which was worth it.

For anyone who is considering a career as a comedian, It's In The Bag should be required viewing. For the rest of us it gives us many laughs and it's the one and only opportunity to see Fred Allen's talents on full display.

Allen's brand of absurdist humor has influenced so many people right down to today. You can see traces of his influence in Rowan&Martin's Laugh-In, the Mighty Carson Art Players from the Tonight Show and even Monty Python's Flying Circus and may be most of all the work of Mel Brooks on the screen. Because the cinema of necessity a tightly controlled script is in order, one aspect of Allen you don't see was his quick wit with an ad-lib. Some even consider him faster with a quip than Groucho Marx.

The premise for this film is that Fred is the financially strapped owner of a flea circus, owing everybody in town including bookie Ben Welden and barely supporting wife Binnie Barnes and children Gloria Pope and Richard Tyler. A long unheard of uncle however is murdered and the uncle left Allen a set of five chairs.

Our genius of a hero sells them off before a phonograph record from his late uncle tells him that $300,000.00 is hidden in one of the chairs together with clues as to who murdered him. Of course the perpetrators are shadowing Allen's every move as he seeks to retrieve the chairs from their new owners and find his fortune in the lining.

The whole thing is an excuse for several skits as Allen goes on his quest for the chairs. One of the chairs was sold to Minerva Pious who is Mrs. Nussbaum and a regular on Allen's radio show. She happened to sell the chair to one Jack Benny.

Benny's character as a miser has become so ingrained in the American culture that even today people who've heard the name know that about him and can appreciate the cheap jokes. What they might not realize is that Jack Benny and Fred Allen engaged in one of the great famous radio feuds so that dimension of the scene with Fred Allen might be lost.

Another couple of chairs goes to a nightclub where folks like Don Ameche, Rudy Vallee, and Victor Moore are picking up some extra money as singing waiters. Another goes to William Bendix, head of the criminal Bendix gang. Bendix is terrific burlesquing his own tough guy image and John Carradine who played many a sinister role on screen looks like he's having a ball playing a crooked lawyer.

Even Jerry Colonna is in this film, on loan from Bob Hope's radio show playing a zany psychiatrist. There is so much in It's In The Bag packed into less than 90 minutes you can hardly stop for breath.

This film is a rare comic treat and should never be missed when broadcast. Demand TCM acquire this film and broadcast it.

Well, actually more like an "Uncle Scrooge" adventure turned into a movie, with acerbic Fred Allen subbing for Carl Barks' peripatetic miser, running into, across and over a panoply of bizarre characters in search of (what else, Uncle Scrooge?) a lost fortune. "Bag" offers the usual Barks-type exotic locales -- there's a byzantine movie theater that seems deliberately Disney-esque -- and colorful characters, here embodied by some surprising Hollywood figures (Rudy Vallee, Don Ameche, Jerry Colonna, etc,)The inevitable encounter with jack Benny is funny enough, but my favorite cameo here was etched by John Carradine as an organ-playing arch-villain, complete with cape and top-hat. Not to be missed!

Fast paced, at times silly, but often funny, "It's in the Bag!" stars Fred Allen, a comedian who appeared on radio and in the early days of television. As Fred F. Trumble Floogle, Allen runs a flea circus, until his wealthy great uncle is murdered, and he inherits $12 million. Unfortunately, after he and his family have wildly spent his newly acquired riches, Fred learns that his uncle has squandered the fortune, and Fred has been left five chairs as his only legacy. However, he also discovers that his uncle has hidden $300,000 inside one of the chairs. Needless to say, the chairs have already been sold, and Fred must find the buyer of each in his pursuit of the hidden money. With a passing nod to The Twelve Chairs, a 1928 Russian novel, the film is a series of skits that feature Allen and a variety of comedians, actors, and personalities of the mid-1940's.

With Rudy Vallee, Don Ameche, William Bendix, Robert Benchley, Jerry Colonna, John Carradine, Victor Moore, Binnie Barnes, and Sidney Toler among others, the madcap proceedings are a Who's Who of familiar faces for audiences of a certain age, but total unknowns to younger audiences. Arguably, the best sequence involves Jack Benny as himself. Benny plays to his miserly reputation, and, with Fred posing as president of the Jack Benny Fan Club in a small New Jersey town, he muses on the club's tiny membership, charges Fred for the tie he is wearing, and rents him one of the missing chairs.

A veteran of comedy shorts for Mack Sennett and Hal Roach, director Richard Wallace keeps the action moving with sight gags, fast flying quips, and performers addressing the audience. An extended sequence in a packed movie theater that involves a frustrated Allen, Binnie Barnes as Mrs. Floogle, and several ushers and managers is particularly funny, especially when Fred asks for a refund because there are no seats. Although the large cast of bygone stars will be lost on most viewers, the humor remains largely intact. Some jokes and routines hit the mark, while others miss, but the pace is fast enough to overlook those bits that fall flat, because the next one is already on the way.

Fred F. Trumble Floogle is the owner of a less than successful flea-circus. Struggling to pay his gambling debts, Trumble is most delighted when it's announced he has inherited a substantial amount of money from a recently slain relative. Jumping straight into the rich mans life style with his family, it's a shock when the dubious suit brigade tell him that all the inheritance money has been dissipated, thus sending the Trumble's into even worse poverty than before. But salvation comes in the form of a phonograph record, which on its reverse side has a message from the grave. It seems that $300,000 is hidden in one of the five chairs that Trumble got from the initial will reading. Trouble is is that his son has just gone and sold the chairs to a dealer, who in turn has sold them on to various people.

I'm not at all familiar with the works of radio star Fred Allen {Fred Trumble}, so going into this film blind as to his style of comedy was a bit of a gamble. Happily I can report that It's In The Bag, and Allen himself were a comedic joy. Backed up by the likes of Jack Benny, William Bendix, John Carradine, Rudy Vallee, Don Ameche and Victor Moore-Allen and the ensemble deliver quick wit and skits to laugh yourself hoarse with. There are some far better reviews of this film available on this site, ie: those more familiar with Allen and his influences, so I would urge interested parties to seek them out. For myself I just loved what I watched, skits around trying to get cinema seats and one involving William Bendix playing against type are excellent, whilst I barely contained my joy during a sequence as Don Ameche recites poetry during a riot. Full of gags both visual and oral, It's In The Bag comes highly recommended to those that enjoy old time comedy with a sharp and prickly edge to it. 8/10

Some of the reviewers I regularly watch for have commented on this film, and most seemed to like it. But it didn't quite tickle my funny bone the way it seems to have others. I wouldn't put this in the class of great early screwball comedies. Films such as "My Man Godfrey," "Bringing Up Baby," "The Awful Truth," "The Philadelphia Story," "The Lady Eve," "My Favorite Wife," "You Can't Take it With You" and others used one-liners masterfully. And, they weren't dated so that a viewer, to get the humor, would need to know stars or particular characters or events that are fairly obscure today.

"It's in the Bag" resembles the early live TV comedy programs when the stars and guests bounced one-liners off one another in running dialog for long segments of the shows. Besides Fred Allen and Jack Benny, long- running one-liner comic shows included Milton Berle, Bob Hope, and Red Skelton. The humor was most often specific for the time, events and people. In other words, "current." Much of "It's in the Bag" was very current for its time, and thus probably would be missed by audiences of today. And, for others of us older viewers, I suspect the humor has just worn out.

I think this may be the longest film ever made of almost constant one- liners. But, unless you're an "old-timer" yourself, or really enjoy old- time films, this may not be that funny to you. On the other hand, I wonder if my enjoyment of the film might have been affected by my cold and feeling a bit under the weather when I watched it today!? The five stars I give the film are mostly for the huge cast of notable comics of the day.

The fun starts with the credits as Fred Allen denigrates everyone listed with the exception of his co-stars Don Ameche, William Bendix and Rudy Vally. Jack Benny, supporting cast members, the producer, director and even the make-up artists get a blast from Allen's withering tongue. The plot is simple enough that we can kind of forget it while enjoying the comedic interludes that are woven around it. Good old fashioned slapstick comedy combined with the type of wit and highbrow comedy you'd expect from intellects like Fred and Robert Benchley. Any fan of Fred Allen's radio shows will appreciate this film. There is the delightful visit to Jack Benny's apartment (which costs Fred over $13.00) and even a visit with Allen's Alley denizen, Mrs. Nussbaum. The cameos are strange but interesting. There is wisecracking galore and one wonders just how much ad-libbing went on. The film is a fun glimpse at one of radio's greatest and most forgotten comedians. Is it a comedy classic? A cinematic masterpiece? No way. But it's a blast seeing Benny vs Allen, Benchley vs Allen and getting some belly laughs from the hilarity that unfolds. A keeper.

Although he is the master of his own flea circus, Fred Floogle has never really been able to provide for his family – gambling not really helping. When he learns that he is the long lost relative and benefactor to the estate of a recently deceased millionaire, he immediately starts living it up ahead of the inevitable inheritance. Sadly it transpires that, not only was his uncle murdered but Fred and his family has only been left some chairs and a gramophone record. Selling the chairs before listening to the record, Fred is horrified to learn that hidden in one of the chairs is not only evidence of the man's killer but also several hundred thousand dollars. Thus begins a race for Fred to find the chairs before other parties can get their hands on them.

The few comments on this site show how obscure this film now is and, not wishing to appear elite let me say that it was by chance that I stumbled across it – I saw it in the listings and taped it sight unseen. It turned out to be a good use of tape (well, digital space) because the film is a great bit of fun in the cheeky style of radio comedian Fred Allen. Never having heard of him myself, his style is very much one-liners and sharp humoured that I would often equate to routines done in vaudeville days. With this in mind it is perhaps no surprise that the plot doesn't really matter too much because as is the way with these things it is more about the laughs than the plotting. That said though the narrative does hold together pretty well while also produce not so much sketches but "chapters" that are generally very funny. The film starts with Allen berating the credits – something Naked Gun etc do in a similar fashion but was more daring in 1945 I imagine – and then continues with plenty of knowing comedy and injokes with stars guests such as Jack Benny and Don Ameche playing themselves. Narrative wise it doesn't really matter how they fit in because their bits are funny enough to stop you worrying too much. I thought not knowing who all the "stars" were would limit how funny I found it but it didn't really.

Allen carries the film and it is a shame that he appears not to have done many other films in his career because he is funny. With a quick wit that comes over with a bit of Groucho Marx and Bob Hope, he is very funny and has plenty of good lines. Barnes is sassy and smart in support and gets some good laughs as well while the guest stars generally go well. I did particularly enjoy turns from Colonna as the Psychiatrist and whoever was playing the lawyer with the manner of an undertaker. It's in the Bag is unlike to be fall into your lap without seeking it out and I'm not sure it is good enough generally to seek out but, if you see it listed somewhere then you should check it out as it is great little bit of fun, mainly thanks to the comics involved.

This movie is truly funny, especially if you appreciate Fred Allen's humor. It's also great to see old stars of radio, movies and television laugh at themselves with gently self-depreciating humor. I never knew the word "maraschino" could be so funny!

Do yourself a favor and seek out this movie -- you won't be dissappointed.

Other reviewers have explained the plot, so I'll simply tell you that I find this film funny and one of my top-rated movie comedies of all time (Blazing Saddles, Some Like it Hot, Olsen & Johnson's Hellzapoppin, Radio Parade of 1935, most of the film comedies starring Monty Python, Alastair Sim, Margaret Rutherford, Alec Guinness and almost all the classics by Chaplin, Keaton, Langdon, Lloyd, Laurel and Hardy, Marx Brothers, W. C. Fields, Mae West and Mel Brooks. During what seems in retrospect a scant decade following WWII, English language movies along with some stage plays, literature, network radio and early live television appealed to an American public better educated and verbally literate than generations before and after. In comedy of that fleeting era, there was frequently an absurdist streak and occasionally some commentary and deconstruction of the very medium in which it appeared. It's in the Bag is a good example of wit, absurdist comedy and deconstruction. An independent production built around the twin poles of a satiric Russian novel and acerbic comedian Fred Allen, it attracted co-stars willing to work for less than their usual salaries: Jack Benny, Binnie Barnes, Don Ameche, Robert Benchley, Rudy Vallee, Victor Moore, William Bendix, John Carradine, Sidney Toler and Jerry Colonna. The result is a series of scenes encountered by Fred Allen as he follows the trail of his missing chairs, one of which conceals a fortune. The script (written by Fred Allen, Morrie Ryskind, Lewis Foster, Jay Dratler & Alma Reville (Hitchcock's swife) is tight, clever, stuffed with incident and characters (most of them spoofing their on-screen personas). Directer Richard Wallace is efficient and compatible wirth the material and performers, and cinematographer Russell Metty was one of filmdom's finest and a favorite of Orson Welles, Stanley Kubrick, Don Siegel and Stweven Spielberg.

I purchased this DVD on a chance. What an absolute delight. I had never seen Fred Allen perform nor heard his radio programs. He is absolutely hilarious, as are all the writers who contributed to this hidden gem. It begins with Allen commenting to the movie audience as the beginning credits roll. He comments about the names and how common they are, that they are a bunch of nobodys and these names can be found in any phone book. It's just plain interesting and unique from the get-go. I laughed aloud many times. I will be looking for other movies by this director and the writers. I am excited to go off on a new tangent with the comedian Fred Allen. I look forward to finding some Fred Allen radio broadcasts to listen to as well!

The plot is so goofy that there is no need to make sense out of it. The self-deprecating humor that many of these performers show is one of the qualities that makes makes this film work. It's refreshing to see what real comedy was like before the present day comics started screaming filth at the public. Jack Benny was so funny. He had a way of laughing that makes me laugh just thinking about it. Nobody does that today. This little window to the past shows amazing wit. The delivery of the actors lines are quick and designed to leave the viewer in stitches from one scene to the next. Warner Oland was perfect as the inspector without the Charlie Chan guise which allowed him some very funny lines. John Carradine is fantastic as the crooked lawyer as well. This one is a personal favorite.