The last film with all three brothers seen together, this is the first film since Duck Soup that captures the style of the Paramount films. The love interest is minimized. Unlike the MGM films, the sight gags are more surrealistic than slapstick. The puns, insults, non-sequitors, and simply absurdist statements come with the volume and velocity of their earliest films, but Harpo's comedy becomes as dominant as Groucho's and his gags are wonderful.
Things from other films are revisited, but not in a way to make the film seem tired. Gags get refined. Like Mr. Hammer in Cocoanuts, Groucho is the hotel manager, but has more (disastrous) interaction with guests. Harpo also eats the inedible again, but takes it to a new level.
Like the stateroom in a Night at the Opera, Harpo and Chico manage to take up an entire restaurant floor with tables to get gratuities from customers, yet unlike Opera, the chaos originates from them, not from around them.
There are also totally new classic routines. The brothers help the villain unpack (of course, he's trying to pack) in a scene of purely visual comedy almost as good as the mirror scene in Duck Soup. And Harpo gets control of an airplane--need I say more?.
The only thing that doesn't fit is the melodramatic final chase with the brothers in the kind of action and real jeopardy that is not a part of the Marx's universe, even in the worst of their MGM films. Yet even there, they can still bend someone else's universe a little.
I am one of the few people who doesn't like "Casablanca," so this is my favorite movie taking place in the North African city, worthy as a supplement to the Silver Screen Collection of the five Paramount films.
Since the Marxes are older, the comedy is less physical, though more physical than you'd imagine for three men in their late 50's, so this is no reason to feel sad, What is, however, is the final moment where the brothers run off after Lisette Verea to apparently do what they were trying to do to Thelma Todd at the end of Horse Feathers. Not only does it remind us of their earlier glory, but in the Marxian equivalent of Chaplin's tramp trudging down the road with Paulette Goddard at the end of Modern Times, theirs back to the camera, the Marxes, too, exit forever.
Yet, it's only sad until you hit the "play movie" button again, which I did. Even though I can't claim this is better than the best of the Paramount comedies, since it's less familiar to Marx fans, it's like a newly discovered treasure.