In which the Three Stooges begin to hit their stride, if you can call something so transgressively wonky and anarchic a stride. There is some structure, in the form of some sequential gags—the director’s door, the switchboard, the various vehicles they use to go and attend to things. But structure doesn’t really seem to be the point here, and it’s not the most successful thing. What counts is, first, this really simple, really delightfully dumb scenario. “I have been informed that three of you are not especially intelligent…” What carries it is the positively Dionysian chaos. Complicated shots or sequences are incoherent, inept, even undirected. No one cares! What we do have is Curly’s ridiculously tight pants, the word “nung,” and all that amazing, somehow and strangely gratifying battery.