Road to Singapore (1940) 
Road to Zanzibar (1941)
Road to Morocco (1942) 
Road to Utopia (1945)
Road to Rio (1947) 
Road to Bali (1952) 
The Road to Hong Kong (1962)
The ultimate comic buddy team, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby were stars in their own right (yeah, if you are reading film reviews, you already know that), but really shown when tossed together. Crosby’s drug-like relaxed style was a perfect counterpoint to Hope’s frenetic persona. They appeared on each others radio shows multiple times and if one starred in a film, there was a good chance the other would pop up in a cameo.
In 1940, after the project was turned down by Fred MacMurray and Jack Oakie (I can’t even imagine…) and George Burns and Gracie Allen, Hope and Crosby were enlisted to head off toward Singapore. They never made it, in the film anyway, but they made cinema history. With a huge success and a new kind of comedy on their hands, the studio was happy to make more of the same.
Parodies of popular adventure films, the Road Pictures follow a formula. Hope and Crosby always play the same characters. They are given different names, but the personalities don’t change. Crosby is the confident, suave, ladies man, with a great deal of larceny in his heart but little money in his pocket. Hope portrays the cowardly fool who is equally dishonest and equally poor. With few minor variations, each picture starts with them trying to eke out a living as performers, with Crosby tricking Hope into some dangerous stunt. Due to money or women problems, the two go on the run, ending up in some exotic local. Along the way they meet Dorothy Lamour, a beautiful and mysterious woman with some problem the boys end up having to solve, no matter how much they try to avoid it. There’s also a villain or two, and while our “heroes” occasionally fight, more often, they run. Romance sparks between Crosby and Lamour, though Hope tends to believe that he is the object of her affections. This leads to numerous back-stabbings, though they all work together more often than not.
The films have four to six songs each, including a ballad for Crosby, a solo number for Lamour, and a comic duet for Hope and Crosby. Some of the songs are integrated into the story, but just as often, they are dropped in out of nowhere.
After the first picture, the movies become self-referential (or series-referential). Numerous gags are repeated and part of the fun is to see how they pop up this time. The most famous is the patty-cake routine, where Hope and Crosby distract guards or attackers by playing the game until they get in a good punch. Repeated references are made to the stars’ other work (radio shows, musical singles, etc.), to the motion picture company, and to competing actors. There are also many topical references, making some of the humor out of reach to anyone born after the ’40s. Supposedly, many of the lines were adlibbed, but in reality, both Hope and Crosby used staff writers to created their off-the-cuff dialog.
The Road Pictures make up one of the finest comedic series. Even the weakest installment is worth your time, and the best ones are classics.
Road to Singapore (1940)
Josh (Bing Crosby) is the heir to a shipping fortune and Ace (Bob Hope) is his disreputable friend. When both find themselves railroaded into marriage, they take off for the islands. At a small bar on the isle of Kaigoon (not Singapore) they pick up local dancer Mima (Dorothy Lamour) and brawl with her whip-wielding partner Caesar (Anthony Quinn). Both the boys vie for Mima’s affections, doing their best to ruin the other’s chances. While Josh seems to have the advantage, he has the added problem that his fiancée (Judith Barrett) and father (Charles Coburn ) have located him and plan to bring him home.
The straightest of the seven Road Pictures, Road to Singapore is a parody of South Sea Island romantic adventure films, but it is also a romantic adventure film in its own right. Hope and Crosby keep in character. Yes, those characters are familiar, but this time they never claim to be a couple actors in a movie. The fourth wall isn’t broken, and the only “external” reference is a line in a song: “I’m in there pitching for Paramount.” It is the only one of the Road Pictures that attempts to get the audience emotionally involved…though not too involved (and it succeeds)
I might be making this sound too serious. It’s not. Jokes take precedence and there are plenty of them. Hope is as quick as ever, rattling off one-liners rapid fire. Crosby keeps up, and between the two of them, only the musical interludes will give you a chance to breathe. Lamour doesn’t add anything to the comedy, but she does bring sexapeal. This is Lamour at her most stunning, every man’s island fantasy.
The songs are some of the best in the series, generally fitting the tone of the action (instead of being a break for 1940s pop). Captain Custard and Sweet Potato Piper are hummable, and The Moon and the Willow Tree is beautifully melodic, wistfully conjuring up faraway lands.
Road to Singapore is not the best of the seven, but if you can only get a hold of two, this should be one of them because it is the anchor for the others.
Road to Zanzibar (1941)
Fearless Frazier (Bob Hope) and Chuck Reardon (Bing Crosby) are on the run in Africa, after their human bullet routine burns down a carnival. When an eccentric millionaire (Eric Blore) gets them out of a jam, Chuck buys a bogus diamond mine from him with all their hard-earned cash. When Fearless re-sells it to some thugs, the pair are once again on the run. “500 miles from nowhere” they are tricked by Donna Latour (Dorothy Lamour) into taking her and her friend Julia (Una Merkel) across Africa so Donna can marry yet another millionaire. Of course the boys fall for Donna, Donna falls for Chuck, songs are song, and cannibals pop up, all on the road to Zanzibar.
With the success of Road to Singapore, it was inevitable that the boys would be back on the road again, and quite quickly. This time it’s a spoof of jungle pictures, complete with natives and a man in an obvious gorilla suit.
The structure of Road to Zanzibar copies Singapore closely, but the comedy is broader. Things are still sedate compared to the entries yet to come, but already, the illusion that Hope and Crosby are playing characters specific to this film is fading. They’re just Hope and Crosby, doing their normal patter. Certainly this works, but it makes Zanzibar an intermediate film: too wild to feel any concern for the action, not zany enough to accept it all as a series of gags. Again, the forth wall remains intact, though Hope does directly comment on Road to Singapore (when their patty-cake gimmick doesn’t work, he observes that their opponent must have seen the last picture).
While Hope and Crosby’s characters have changed only in degree, Lamour’s is quite different. This time out she’s a good-hearted swindler, not the innocent fantasy-vision. She would stick close to this persona for the rest of the films.
The songs are pleasant, provided you like 1940s pop, but it’s doubtful you’ll be singing them after the film’s over. Crosby’s requisite balled “It’s Always You” is the most memorable though I can’t recall the melody a mere hour after hearing it. He’s in particularly fine form, showing off his vocal range.
I’ve seen Road to Zanzibar many times over the years and have always enjoyed it, but when naming the top movies in the series, it’s always remained in the pack.
Road to Morocco (1942)
Turkey (Bob Hope) and Jeffrey (Bing Crosby) find themselves marooned in Morocco without food or money. Jeffrey sells Turkey into slavery, but he ends up in the hands of Princess Shalmar (Dorothy Lamour), who intends to marry him for her own nefarious purpose. Her fiancé, Mullay Kasim, the desert sheik (Anthony Quinn), is none to happy with this turn of events, nor is Jeffrey once he finds them. This leads to crossed romances, dancing girls, magic rings, and the rarity of Hope getting a girl.
We’re off on the road to Morocco.
This camel is tough on the spine.
Where they’re goin’, why we’re goin’, how can we be sure?
I’ll lay you eight to five that we’ll meet Dorothy Lamour.Off on the road to Morocco.
Hang on till the end of the line.
I hear this country’s where they do the dance of the seven veils.
We’d tell you more but we would have the censor on our tails.
With Road to Morocco, the format was perfected. Generally considered the best of The Road Pictures and my favorite (for what it’s worth, the U.S. government agrees, selecting it for the National Film Registry), it is as close to flawless as any comedy. Moving at a lighting pace, Morocco piles gag on top of gag, with only the better than average songs breaking up the humor.
Since everyone watching in ’42 (and anyone now who is taking the films in order) knew what to expect, there is no attempt to pretend otherwise. Instead, the viewer is invited to share in the fun. It isn’t just Bob and Bing that are off on the road to Morocco; it’s us as well. The stars talk to the audience, refer to past jokes, and generally let everyone know that it’s all just for laughs.
For any villains we may meet, we haven’t any fears.
Paramount will protect us ’cause we’re signed for five more years
The comedy couldn’t be broader. Within minutes of the opening, the boys are stuck on a raft and Crosby is already talking about eating Hope. Yup, this movie starts with cannibalism jokes. From there we head off to homoerotism, whipping, and talking camels. While a few of the lines may be lost on people not up on ’40s pop-culture, it isn’t a problem as there’s always another joke coming.
Road to Morocco was hysterical sixty-five years ago and it still is today. It’s the reason why theaters need to show older films as it is a real joy with a crowd. If you aren’t lucky enough to have such a theater near you, pick up the DVD and have a video-watching party with all your friends.
Road to Utopia (1945)
Duke and Chester (Bing Crosby, Bob Hope) find themselves in snow-covered Alaska, disguised as killers and carrying a stolen treasure map. The real owner of the map, Skagway Sal (Dorothy Lamour), attempts to seduce the map from them. The local gangster, Ace Larson (Douglass Dumbrille), and the killers, Sperry and McGurk, also want the map, and their way of getting it is much less pleasant.
One of the most popular Road Pictures, Road to Utopia has a slightly more leisurely pace than its sprinting predecessor, more along the lines of Zanzibar, but keeps the same level of madcap absurdity. Fish and bears chat, a mountain transforms into the Paramount logo, and a magician from a different picture walks through the set. Hope and Crosby could do their patter in their sleep at this point, but don’t, keeping the energy high and the jokes always coming.
Humorist Robert Benchley, popular in the ’30s and ’40s for his short films, appears periodically in a corner of the screen to “explain” the story. It’s an amusing bit, though I suspect it was a scream to movie goers in ’45.
The songs aren’t up to Morocco‘s standards, but are still above average for the series. Lamour’s cute and sexy Personality is the one you’ll most likely want to hear again. The Hope/Crosby duet Put it There, Pal, is also good fun—not really a song, but one of their quick, gag-laden conversations done to a tune.
Road to Utopia is a fine follow-up to Morocco.
(I have a previous, standalone review of Road to Utopia here.)
Road to Rio (1947)
Hot Lips Barton (Bob Hope) and Scat Sweeney (Bing Crosby) are down-on-their-luck performers, run out of town after town due to Scat’s inappropriate advances toward local women. Stowing-away on an ocean liner, they meet the lovely Lucia Maria de Andrade (Dorothy Lamour) who’s under the hypnotic control of the evil Catherine Vail (Gale Sondergaard). Naturally, the boys must save themselves as well as Lucia and find a bit of romance along the way.
By this fifth entry in the series, the always familiar jokes have become a little too familiar. Sure, much of the humor comes from seeing how the old situations will pop up this time, but there is a point of limiting returns. Yes, it’s funny to see the patty-cake punch gag (used twice), but not quite as funny as it had been in the previous four outings.
In an attempt at a little variation in the format, the “wackiness” is toned down…slightly…from the heights of Morocco and Utopia. Bing and Bob only blatantly break the forth wall once and have fewer references to it just being a motion picture; fewer means there are some, which play well due to their rarity. The longest Road Picture, Rio has the most coherent and linear plot since Singapore. The boys set out to evade the bad guys and save Dorothy, and are only sidetracked once, when they get a job as an American band in Rio. This diversion includes the best gag in the picture as they try and pass off three non-English-speaking locals as hip-cat Americans by teaching each a single phrase.
Usually, a few of the always-present songs halt the story while a couple keep things going and are part of the humor. This time, all the music grinds things to a halt. The tunes are all generic 1940s pop; you won’t need to buy the soundtrack. You Don’t Have to Know the Language, sung by Bing and The Andrew Sisters, is as close to a standout as you’ll find, and it’s not all that close. The Andrew Sisters were a popular war-time trio, but their attraction has not held up over the years and younger viewers aren’t likely to be impressed.
Gale Sondergaard, best known as Inez Quintero in The Mark of Zorro, is a welcome addition to the cast. She doesn’t have much to do, and plays her part straight, but manages to add in a touch of appealing evil.
The Road Pictures are all good fun, and there’s nothing wrong with Rio. It just isn’t the equal of others in the franchise.
Road to Bali (1952)
George (Bing Crosby) and Harold (Bob Hope), on the run from a pair of shotgun weddings, take jobs as deep sea divers for Ken-Arok, an island prince (Murvyn Vye). The island is ruled by his cousin, Princess Lala (Dorothy Lamour), and with the sunken treasure he’s hired the boys to recover, he plans to depose Lala. Obviously, his intensions for our two heroes don’t involve them surviving, and just as obviously, they don’t notice as the fight over Lala.
We’re back to the South Seas in the sixth installment of the Road Pictures, and it’s once again fertile ground. The team apparently has more one-liners for islands, native dancing girls, and love-starved gorillas than they do for commercial trips to South America. They’ve also returned to (or even surpassed) Morocco‘s level of absurdity, with a magic rope, a basket that produces beautiful girls, and a talking volcano. They joke about Paramount Pictures (again), Errol Flynn (who screams from off stage because Bing and Bob are getting so many babes), and Crosby’s advancing age. Bing’s brother Bob, the curvaceous Jane Russell, Humphrey Bogart, and Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis all make improbable cameos as themselves. The fourth wall is in ruins. Hope repeatedly makes helpful suggestions to the audience, but I’ll skip the details as those are the film’s best gags. Road to Bali is, on a joke-by-joke scale, the funniest Road Picture, which, depending on one’s taste, makes it one of the funniest films ever made.
It is also the best looking Road Picture. The only one in color (lush Technicolor), the obviously stage-bound jungles and ancient structures make me want to ship out to the Pacific tomorrow.
Since I don’t rate this as highly as Morocco, the observant reader should be waiting for the “but…” And here it is: the musical numbers. The music isn’t horrible…overall. Moonflowers, Lamour’s tone-setting ballad, isn’t half bad. But the execution of all the songs is uncomfortable and their integration into the story is incompetent, or just lazy. A little too old to be winging it, Hope and Crosby often look like your accountant neighbor on karaoke night. I have to wonder if they did any blocking for the songs or if everyone just walked on stage and then moved around randomly.
At their best, the numbers come off as dated. Anyone under the age of thirty is going to moan, as are most of those over it.
It’s remarkable for an entry so late in a franchise to be this good. But the franchise was getting old by ’52. The stars weren’t young any more, nor were the jokes (good, but not young).
Road to Bali is out of copyright, so low-rent DVD companies have put out numerous poor quality versions, sometimes just using an old VHS tape. I can’t say how many are bad, but without more info, I wouldn’t chance it, and pick up the Brentwood one which is good.
The Road to Hong Kong (1962)
Conmen Harry (Bing Crosby) and Chester (Bob Hope) are plying their trade in India when Chester is injured. The two journey to see a Tibetan Lama to cure Chester’s amnesia, and while there, swipe an herb that gives the user the ability to remember whatever he sees. Diane (Joan Collins), an agent of an evil organization, mistakenly slips Chester the recipe for their new rocket fuel, and its those plans the boys use to try out their new “memory act.” With the papers destroyed, the secret is only in Chester’s head, and Diane and her boss (Robert Morley) will stop at nothing to get that information. Luckily, Dorothy Lamour is touring Hong Kong, so she can help our hapless heroes.
After a ten year absence, Hope and Crosby are back on the road, this time to nostalgia. The road is warm and inviting for old fans, but it has little to offer on its own. Though the two old pros have slowed down, they can still rattle off a lot of jokes in ninety-minutes, but none are laugh-out-loud funny. This is a movie that may make you smile at old friends, but any real laughs will be from remembering how they were.
Espionage pics were ripe for spoofing, but the story never jells—not necessarily a problem as plot is an after thought in the Road Picture. But they also don’t find good gags for the topic, instead writing the same insults and girl-chasing routines that have been done six times before.
The Road to Hong Kong introduces several unwanted changes, besides putting “The” in the title. It returns the franchise to b&w. After Road to Bali‘s appealing use of Technicolor, the movie looks drab. Compounding that is the poorer quality of the film stock compared to what was used in the ’40s, lacking the contrast that marked Singapore and Morocco. Far more noticeable is the demotion of Dorothy Lamour. Deemed too old at the time to be Bing and Bob’s sexual fantasy, Joan Collins got the role. Collins is certainly attractive, and does a reasonable job, but has little chemistry with the pair. Yes, Lamour was a bit older than in her prime “sarong” years, but she was still eleven years younger than Hope and Crosby, and would have been more believable with the two near-sixty-year-olds. She was also a far more accomplished singer (not that Hong Kong should be remembered for its songs, no matter who sung them). When she balked at her cameo, Lamour’s part was enlarged, but she’s still a minor player.
Once again the forth wall is torn down and there are a torrent of self-referential remarks. Unfortunately, the wild, zany fun of breaking the rules that was the hallmark of Morocco and Bali comes off as silly here. The third time the duo calls on the special effects department to get them out of a jam, I was shaking my head, not laughing.
This review sounds negative, but that’s only because I’m comparing Hong Kong to the other Road Pictures. With lesser competition, it would stand up better to scrutiny. But then the only reason to watch this one is because it is part of such a fine series. It’s enjoyable, and isn’t an embarrassment, which is pretty good for a seventh film.