Archive for Charlie Hall

The Valentine’s Day Intertitle:

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , on February 14, 2021 by dcairns

There’s a film I have to write about that would provide a PERFECT intertitle for today, but I’m sworn to secrecy so I can’t use it. And the only other silent film I’ve seen lately is A NIGHT OUT, which isn’t particularly romantic.

Never mind, though, here’s Charley Chase, directed by his brother James Parrott, in FLUTTERING HEARTS, with Eugene Pallette AND Oliver Hardy, but also the alluring and talented Martha Sleeper, the cause of the titular cardiac irregularity. AND it has Charlie Hall as Man Under Car, perhaps the role he was born to play. Isn’t it romantic?

My chosen intertitle for this saint’s day is “Metropolitan 38986 — ask for Tillie.” This occurs at the five minute six seconds mark, but stay with it, there are rewards for the patient viewer.

Rearended

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 10, 2018 by dcairns

I guess this has turned into LEO MCCAREY WEEK. Best make it official.

If ME AND MY PAL is Laurel & Hardy’s version of THE EXTERMINATING ANGEL avant la lettre, and it is, then the silent TWO TARS (1928) is their pre-empting of Godard’s WEEKEND.

The second half of it, anyway. In the first half, the boys, playing sailors on shore leave, pick up a couple of flappers (Thelma Hill & Ruby Blaine) and go on a spree. There’s a brief tit-for-tat with Charlie Hall, future antagonist of THEM THAR HILLS and TIT FOR TAT, then they get embroiled in an endless traffic jam. This sequence is probably slightly longer than Godard’s famous two-tracking shot vision of hell, but it’s also much funnier, without in any way lessening the sense of the human race as a hopelessly warlike, intransigent, malicious and brainless blight on the globe.

The boys get into rows with Edgar Kennedy and other motorists, which escalate into an orgy of windscreen-smashing, headlamp-removing, and bodywork disfiguration, while the girls whoop with anarchic delight at each atrocity. I’ve always had a horror of the kind of female who sits on the sidelines and encourages male-on-male violence, but this pair seem oddly innocent in their childlike glee. It’s all just moving shapes to them, and moving shapes are lovely and funny. Their hilarity is infectious — Laurel & Hardy’s films are among the very few that can make laughter itself funny.

The boys did make a very large number of these things — pants ripping (PUTTING PANTS ON PHILIP), hat busting (in the now-lost HATS OFF), pie throwing (THE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY). This is a very good one. Story & supervision: Leo McCarey.