
When the Marx Brothers announced in 1946 that their upcoming film was called A Night in Casablanca, Warner Bros threatened to sue for breach of copyright. Warner had produced the great hit Casablanca four years earlier, and insisted that the funny men were trying to cash in on it. But Groucho was no slouch. He had his lawyer threaten Warner Brothers with breach of copyright for using the word brothers. The Marx boys won, as they were brothers before the Warners had formed the company. A Night in Casablanca also turned out to be a great hit. (Here, as bores and pedants tend to do, I have to declare an interest. I am related to the Marx Brothers — Harpo, in fact, as my sister-in-law is married to his grandson. It’s the relation I brag about the most.)
I thought of the Marx Brothers when I heard about Dubai and those other comedians, the Maktoums. It was while racing during Ascot week that I first saw them. I can’t remember how many of them there were, but in they came to the royal enclosure’s paddock, inspecting the ‘’orses’, and never having heard of them before I started to laugh. Mind you, this was some time ago, when people tended to laugh without fear. They really looked quite ridiculous, all stony-faced, bearded, tawny and wearing top hats. The English even more so, running behind them forelock-tugging, rubbing their hands together nervously as they looked the horses over. I remember telling Charles Benson that these people were funnier than the Marx Brothers, but he told me to shut up. He then went over to bow and scrape to the lead clown, but poor Benson had good reason to do so.

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