

Instead, the scene switches to an absurdly lavish ballroom, its vast staircase flanked by overly plumed guards and trumpeters with exceedingly long trumpets. “A progressive, fearless fighter, a man like … Rufus T Firefly!”įirefly is, of course, Groucho Marx, but we have still not had a glimpse of him. “In a crisis like this, I feel Freedonia needs a new leader,” declares Mrs Teasdale. You almost feel that, if you looked very hard, you could spot George Osborne or Vince Cable in the background, beavering away. Instead, the language of negotiation fills the air: this could be any political film, at any time, dealing with the usual problems of borrowing, taxing and spending. It is already a minute in, and there is still no pun in sight. Mrs Teasdale, played by the redoubtable Margaret Dumont, complains that she has already donated half her fortune, and will only lend more money if a new leader is put in place. Zander, the president, is asking the wealthy Mrs Gloria Teasdale, widow of the late Chester V Teasdale, for a further $20m, so that he can announce an immediate reduction in taxes. We are in the majestic council chamber of the government of Freedonia. The longest pun-free period in Duck Soup is at the beginning, after the unsettling opening shot of ducks paddling in a cauldron over a hot fire. It is a signpost bearing the same destination, but pointing in two directions. A pun is a word that doesn’t mean what it says, or rather, means what it says but also means something else.
