Pardon Us.

Review #2484: Pardon Us.

Cast: 

Stan Laurel (Stan), Oliver Hardy (Ollie), Wilfred Lucas (Warden), June Marlowe (Warden's Daughter), James Finlayson (Schoolteacher), Walter Long (The Tiger), Tiny Sandford (Shields, Prison Guard), Otto Fries (Dentist), and Charlie Hall (Dentist's Assistant) Directed by James Parrott.

Review: 

Admittedly, I plain forgot to really check out the comedy duo of Laurel and Hardy. So, why not start with their first feature-length film?  British-born Stan Laurel had started on the stage at 16 and did work in music halls (Fred Karno was a particular influence on Laurel and the one he was an understudy to in Charlie Chaplin) and eventually ended up at the Roach studio as director/writer by the 1920s. As for Georgia-born Oliver Hardy, he was a stage singer-turned comedian that had thrived in Florida productions (such as playing second banana to Billy West [a Charlie Chaplin impersonator] shorts) before going to Hollywood to seek new chances. Officially, they became a team in 1927 with Putting Pants on Phillip; Leo McCarey is stated to have aided the duo in helping develop their format. Most of the work they did until 1950 on film was in shorts (totaling over 70, sound and silent), but they did do 23 feature films, mostly with Roach (who when he had a dispute with Laurel, he tried to pair Hardy with Harry Langdon with Zenobia) that went right down to their last in Atoll K (1951). The two even had time to appear on television before Hardy's health started to decline that saw him die in 1957 at the age of 65; Laurel did not appear on film or stage again. He was awarded an Honorary Academy Award in 1961, four years prior to his death at the age of 74.* There exist various versions of the film: a British cut (Jailbirds) lasts 41 minutes while the original release and reissue was 55 minutes, an extended cut lasted 64 minutes and the current DVD edition runs at 70. The funny thing is that there were also foreign-language editions of the film made with the same sets for Spanish, Italian, German, and French, although only the Spanish version survives (apparently, Boris Karloff appeared in the French version). 

Apparently, the 1930 film The Big House was a big enough hit that Roach wanted to a short film making fun of the prison drama and even wanted to use the same sets. MGM was fine with it...if the duo would do a feature for them. Roach decided instead to make a replica of the prison sets. The result was a film that went from a short to having enough material to just be a full-length film. Sure, it might be a bit dated, as evidenced by it being made when one could be arrested for selling beer (or the blackface bit, which happens midway through*). It's a pretty episodic (it was directed by James Parrott, one mostly versed in shorts, which included the future Academy Award-winning short The Music Box [1932]) and disjointed affair, but it can be enjoyable in parts for those in the mood for a bit of goofy fun. There's plenty to mine with a goofy tooth and a few silly scenarios involving the duo wandering through jail life. The duo basically glide through the film in setting up whatever gag is necessary that can be charming in its execution for mischief that basically comes and goes with timing you just don't see everyday. The jail sequences mostly come and go with a bit of chuckles, mostly with Long and his demeanor (Finlayson comes close, but there isn't anything that really just zings too highly or lowly for too long. In general, you have a movie that is fairly watchable and fairly on the level of having some goofs in a time where you could just roll with the gags and have a mostly pleasant experience seeing how it comes together with a game duo there to do it all.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Apparently, at the funeral, Buster Keaton stated that the funniest among them was not him or Chaplin but Laurel. Dick Van Dyke (December 13 will see him turn 100) even delivered a rendition of The Clown's Prayer.

*No, I did not intend to watch back-to-back movies where someone is in blackface. What the fuck?

The Sheik (1921).

Review #1318: The Sheik.

Cast: 
Rudolph Valentino (Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan), Agnes Ayres (Lady Diana Mayo), Ruth Miller (Zilah), George Waggner (Yousaef), Frank Butler (Sir Aubrey Mayo), Charles Brinley (Mustapha Ali), Lucien Littlefield (Gaston), Adolphe Menjou (Raoul de Saint Hubert), and Walter Long (Omair) Directed by George Melford.

Review: 
It is interesting to see where a career can go when it comes to a person's legacy. What does one think when they see the name of Rudolph Valentino? They see a matinee idol, a person who became a romantic symbol for Hollywood whose star rose like a comet and vanished just as quickly, with a leading career that lasted less than a decade. He had gotten his start in films as an extra after emigrating to the United States from Italy in 1913, with his debut allegedly being in a lost film named My Official Wife (1914). His major break was the film The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), which occurred after June Mathis had discovered him during one of his extra appearances. In any case, the film proved to be a major success, making him into a star overnight. He appeared in four further films in that same year, but this is the one that would help seal his reputation and image as a "Latin lover" for the rest of his brief career. This was an adaptation of the 1919 romance novel of the same name by Edith Maude Hull and was adapted for the screen by Monte M. Katterjohn. It should be noted that James Kirkwood, Sr was the original choice for the title role before he declined due to salary concerns. Valentino had jumped studios to do this film (done at Paramount), feeling less than satisfied with Metro Pictures (who you may recognize from their 1924 merger with Goldwyn Pictures and Louis B. Mayer Pictures to make Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer).

In any case, one wonders how this desert romance holds up when looked at through the lens of a near century since its release. The immediate thought that went through my head before viewing it was "Stockholm syndrome" (involving someone developing a psychological alliance with captors during captivity). If one views it as a period piece, perhaps one can find a bit of surreal enjoyment, particularly for a film that even uses one of its final title-cards to say that its title character is actually European (English/Spanish, actually, but whose counting?). Look, the film is a bit weird. However, it cannot be denied that there is still a bit of fiery staying power for this film, having a hypnotically passionate Valentino that rises above being billed second to Ayres (whose career also started with small roles in 1914) to make something that keeps the eyeballs focused on something that teeters on corniness while trying to fit into escapism. Ayres does fine, although one might think the romantic angle was more of a tease than anything (the novel was far more controversial with its duo involving rape and plenty of stereotypes, so imagine the studio trying to be careful with the censor boards). The others are okay, in the same way that they certainly look like they want to be there making gestures and seem useful to something that seems mildly ready to inspire passion for 80 minutes. The film is fairly diverting enough to overcome its rickety foundations, where one can look at its main stars without it seeming completely off-putting or ridiculous. There were two more films involving the Sheik, with The Son of the Sheik (1926) starring both Valentino (in a double role that proved to be his last before his death that same year) and Ayres. A comedic role reversal named She's a Sheik with Bebe Daniels was released the following year. This is one of those unlikely films that finds a place in movie history. One wonders how it would've endured if was made in any other time other than the early 1920s, such as if it was made seven years earlier or later, but there is something mystical about it attracts attention even after nearly a century. Valentino may have lived as an idol for only five years, but his mark still comes through today as someone to look at on the screen.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Maltese Falcon (1931).

Review #395: The Maltese Falcon.

Cast
Bebe Daniels (Ruth Wonderly), Ricardo Cortez (Sam Spade), Dudley Digges (Casper Gutman), Una Merkel (Effie Perine), Robert Elliott (Dundy), Thelma Todd (Iva Archer), Otto Matieson (Joel Cairo), Walter Long (Miles Archer), and Dwight Frye (Wilmer Cook) Directed by Roy Del Ruth.

Review
As it turns out, the 1941 film version of the Dashiell Hammett novel was not the first adaptation, as this 1931 film was made first, though it would soon languish into obscurity, even being called Dangerous Female after the 1941 film was released. But my question before watching was would it be any good. And...it's not exactly good, but it has some sort of merit. Trying to compare this and the 1941 film is liking trying to compare a work of art by Picasso to a painting by a beginner, it's just not fair to compare because as I said in my review of the 1941 film, "The film has a style to it that helps the film makes its case for a good film, if not already from the acting. The story's good, making you interested in it for the entirety of the film." From what I've heard, the two films are pretty close to the novel, different in some ways, and this version feels like the 1941 version, but not too much. Maybe it's just me, but when I was watching I thought I heard a crackly noise that kept going in the background for the rest of the film, but that could just be me. The actors are alright, and the sets do look well. The film shows its age at points, and while this isn't a great film in most sense, this at least should watched once, either before or after the 1941 film. Take this for it's worth, no matter the consequences. Countdown to 400 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.