The Battle of The Century

Silent Laughter 2018: programme revealed!

silent laughter 2018 flyer

It’s here! Straight from The Cinema Museum website, this is the programme for the 2018 Silent Laughter Weekend!

SATURDAY MARCH 10TH

10.00 The Night Club (1925)
A silent feature-length comedy starring Raymond Griffith, whose surviving films are few but which delight audiences at festivals around the world (as with his Paths to Paradise (1925) and Hands Up! (1926) at previous KB screenings). Contemporary critics made such comments as `Comedy along all lines from subtle wit, through burlesque to slapstick, and in every style he gets the laughs’ and `The picture is crammed with gags, most of them new’ … and with more than a nod towards Harold Lloyd’s Why Worry? (1923), shown at our comedy weekend last year. We defy anyone to see a connection between the title and the film! Introduced by Kevin Brownlow – who perhaps will explain!

11.30 The British are Coming!
Tony Fletcher introduces a selection of 1920s British comedies, including Adrian Brunel’s glorious spoof travelogue Crossing the Great Sagrada (1924), A.A. Milne’s Bookworms (1920) starring Leslie Howard, also Variety legend Leslie Sarony singing a comic song or two in a rare DeForest Phonofilm, one of the pioneering British-made talkies that predate Hitchcock’s Blackmail (1929).

13.00 LUNCH

14.00 Charley Chase
Charley ChaseMatthew Ross highlights the career of Charley Chase, a brilliant, influential and – at least until relatively recent years – overlooked comedian and director of the 1920s and 1930s. A master of both the sight gag and situational humour, this selection of prime Chase comedies will conclude with one of his funniest silent shorts.

15.35 A Perfect Gentleman (1928)
Monty Banks is perhaps best remembered today for having married (and directed) Gracie Fields, something which has unjustly eclipsed his career as a star comedian in shorts and features (his 1927 film Flying Luck opened our comedy day last November). In this, one of his best starring roles, Banks gets involved in tracking down a stolen fortune, his adventures culminating in a whirlwind, gag-filled climax at sea.

17.15 Keaton Classics
Following our 100th anniversary celebration of Buster Keaton’s film career in last November’s comedy day, we are delighted to present a programme of classic Keaton material. Noted Keaton authors David Robinson, Kevin Brownlow and David Macleod reveal their favourites and researcher Polly Rose illustrates some of her new discoveries about Buster’s 1924 feature Sherlock Jr.

18.45 Dinner

20.00 Exit Smiling (1926)
Exit SmilingRenowned stage comedienne Beatrice Lillie – a Canadian-born British star whose reputation spanned both continents – made regrettably few films. Fortunately one of these is the 1926 MGM feature Exit Smiling, produced and directed by one of Harold Lloyd’s key associates, Sam Taylor. `Bea’ Lillie – as she was often known – plays Violet, the dogsbody for a travelling theatrical troupe who harbours ambitions to act – or, as a title card informs us, has played `Nothing’ in Much Ado About Nothing! A true classic, introduced by Michelle Facey.

22.00 approx. Close

 

SUNDAY MARCH 11TH

10.00 Lame Brains and Lunatics
Lame Brains and Lunatics coverOur thanks to American author Steve Massa, who has selected some of the ‘good, the bad and the forgotten’ silent clowns from his book bearing the same title as this programme. Assisting his presentation from this side of the pond will be Dave Glass, to whom we also offer thanks. Can you afford to miss Al St.John, Toto, Marcel Perez or Paul Parrott? (Don’t answer that!)

11.35 Seven Years Bad Luck (1921)
After his early successes as a star of Pathé comedies in his native France, Max Linder made two forays into American film-making. Our recent Silent Laughter Saturday included examples from both visits, Max Wants a Divorce (1917) and Be My Wife (1921), the latter representing part of a series of features produced and directed personally by Linder. In Seven Years Bad Luck, perhaps the best of these, the fun starts when Max’s butler breaks a full-length mirror. Bad luck seemingly ensues as Max escapes the police, unwittingly hiding in a lion’s cage. In addition to Seven Years Bad Luck, the programme will include a recently discovered Max Linder short from 1910, Les Effects des Pilules. Introduced by David Robinson.

13.00 Lunch

14.00 Surprise Programme
A surprise programme of rare material hosted by award-winning editor and director Christopher Bird.

15.35 So You Won’t Talk (1935)
Monty BanksContinuing from yesterday’s screening of A Perfect Gentleman (1928), here’s a chance to see silent comedian Monty Banks in a rarely-shown British talkie – except he doesn’t talk (mostly!). In what may have been a means of translating his silent comedy methods into the talkie era, the plot sees Banks becoming weary of all the chatter surrounding him and, in order to win a bet, guaranteeing not to talk. Cue lots of silent comedy as complications ensue …

17.15 Noisy Silents
Some silent comedies have always looked as though they were intended to have soundtracks, even though none were provided at the time; these examples, including films starring Harry Langdon, Our Gang and Laurel and Hardy will be provided with the extra sound accompaniment we feel they need – in the final case, we hope, by the audience. Hosted by musician and composer Neil Brand.

18.45 Dinner

20.00 Roy Hudd
Roy HuddWe are delighted to welcome comedian, actor and writer Roy Hudd, who will be in conversation with former News Huddlines writer – and Kennington Bioscope regular – Glenn Mitchell. As with their previous shows at the Cinema Museum, Roy and Glenn will be discussing and screening clips of great comedians from film, theatre and television. This time the emphasis is expected to be on essentially visual humour … but we’ll wait and see what they come up with!

21.45 Roy Hudd talk concludes with   the newly restored Battle of the Century (1927), starring Laurel and Hardy, and the pie fight to end all pie fights!

22.00 approx. Close

 

Tickets & Pricing

Weekend Ticket £30 / One Day £18 / After 2pm £12. These are available online from Ticket Tailor.

The Rediscovery of the Century?
— A belated report on a screening of the restored ‘BATTLEOF THE CENTURY’–
lh_battle_of_the_century_1928
Recently, happy coincidence presented the opportunity for me to see several ‘new’ Laurel and Hardy films in a short space of time. Kennington Bioscope’s Silent Laughter Weekend presented newly rediscovered footage from ‘THE SECOND HUNDRED YEARS’ as well as two L & H solo films,  and shortly after came the chance to see the newly restored, almost complete version of ‘THE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY’. For so many years a frustratingly fragmented film, this has finally had its iconic pie fight reinstated at full length. Re-premiered last year, the film has, I believe, only had two previous screenings in the UK, both in London, and both of which I was crushingly unable to attend. It was with great excitement that I saw the film was being shown as part of the Leeds International Film Festival, in support of Harold Lloyd’s wonderful ‘SPEEDY’.
 battle5
The venue was The City Varieties theatre, a Victorian marvel which, like the films, has been newly restored to its former glory. It was also an appropriate venue for a silent comedy show, as both Chaplin and Keaton once trod the boards here (Chaplin as a young performer, Buster in his later years).
 Accompaniment was by Jonathan Best and Trevor Bartlett. Their accompaniment, of piano and percussion, was magnificent, one of the very best I’ve heard.
And the films? ‘SPEEDY’, my favourite Lloyd feature, was wonderful as ever, and shimmered magnificently in its new Blu Ray version. As good as it is though, ‘THE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY’ was inevitably the big star here. The restoration looked absolutely beautiful on the big screen, and I found myself in a childlike state of excitement and wonder as the new footage unfolded.
We’ll get to the prodigal pie fight in a minute, but first, a word on the opening scenes.
The boxing scenes looked stunning, much less dark than the previously available version. Comedically, I’ve always thought this a very  underrated sequence: some nice physical comedy, superb ‘heavy’-ing from Noah Young, and wonderful reactions from both Stan and Babe. It’s also a rare foray into topical satire, albeit loosely, for L & H. ‘The Battle of the Century’ was how the 1927 Dempsey v Tunney prize fight was billed, and it became notorious for its ‘long count’. The Chicago Tribune takes up the story:

“Amid a screaming crowd of 104,943 spectators, reporters at ringside said it took champion Gene Tunney somewhere from 12 to 15 seconds to regain his feet after being knocked down byformer champion Jack Dempsey.

It should have taken referee Dave Barry 10 seconds to count out Tunney, making Dempsey a winner by a knockout in the seventh round. But Dempsey ignored the rule that he first had to go to a neutral corner. He thereby transformed those few seconds into legend.Barry escorted Dempsey to a corner, then began a delayed count. Tunney rose before it reached 10.

In his autobiography, Dempsey conceded that he forgot all about the rule: “It’s hard to stop what you’re doing, standing over a guy and waiting for him to get up.”

Tunney, who floored Dempsey briefly in the ninth round, won the 10-round fight and retained the title.”

So, actually, the whole scene is a directly comic version of the real life event. It also struck me while watching the prizefight scenes that this is where ‘Stan’ is really born. While THE SECOND HUNDRED YEARS  and PUTTING PANTS ON PHILIP were both wonderful comedies with terrific performances from Laurel, he’s a bit too spirited and spritely in both  to fully represent the later Stan we know and love. Perhaps the mellowing was present in ‘HATS OFF’, too, but the surviving still photographs and cutting continuity cannot reveal whether the nuance of performance we see in ‘BATTLE’ began in the earlier film. Until that magical date when we can see ‘HATS OFF’, ‘THE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY’ represents the real birth of ‘Stan’.
 With the boxing scenes over, the sense of anticipation rose in the audience. The scene which followed, with insurance man Eugene Pallette persuading Babe to take out some insurance on Stan, is still elusive. It was replaced by the same selection of bridging title cards and stills we’ve always been familiar with. But then, the last still faded, there was a brief, pregnant pause, and up in silver light shone a different corner of the Roach studios. Our two heroes walked into the frame and it was true. This was something I’d never seen before! 
 Battle Of The Century
Here they were, bringing to life images we’ve previously only known as still photographs, lost frozen images in books. Here was Babe, imperiously leading the way, and sneakily dropping a banana peel ahead of Stan; here was Stan, walking right over it in bland-faced, blissful ignorance. It was really happening. The whole scene was very well developed as a comic sequence. Feigning indecision over which direction to take, Babe repeatedly leads Stan for a walk back and forward along the same small piece of street. Each time, he gets to subtly shows his frustration with an understated “Damn!” gesture. Wonderfully funny underplaying from Mr Hardy.
Eventually, it is not Stan but a cop who slips on the peel. This begins a running gag of Babe trying to plant the rest of the banana on Stan. When he finally succeeds in doing so, the scene plays out beautifully slowly, a fine example of the L & H breakthrough in pacing. The cop looks at the banana, then at Stan. Stan looks at the banana, then back at the cop. The cop removes Stan’s hat, which Stan looks at curiously. Then, and only then, does the cop exact retribution on the Laurel cranium. Stan continues playing the scene slowly, glazing over and replacing his hat. Finally, he begins to cry. Early in the game of the L & H characters, the cry is set up wonderfully; there was not just laughter but real sympathy in the audience at Leeds!
Babe investigates the damage; a large lump has risen on Stan’s head. “I’ll get $100 dollars for that pineapple!” he crows. Stan, like Harry Langdon, seeks solace in food, but Babe snatches the banana from him before it can reach his mouth. This leads us into where the existing footage previously picked up: Pieman Charlie Hall slipping on the peel and Babe trying to plant the peel back on Stan. However, it soon becomes clear just how much Youngson edited down the footage. Practically every sequence or shot we’re used to has at least some extra material to it, in many cases full omitted gags. Careful examination of the film shows the joining points, as the ‘new’ footage is just a tiny bit less sharp.
The initial altercation with Charlie Hall, for instance, reinstates a previously unknown tit for tat sequence with ‘the little menace’. After Babe (this time unsuccessfully) again tries to plant the peel on Stan, Hall flicks his nose, messes his tie, and generally gives him a classic, finger-wagging Hall telling off before resorting to a pie! It’s easy to see why Youngson edited this down after dispensing with the previous scene: it works much better in the context of Ollie getting his come-uppance after leaving poor Stan at the mercy of the policeman.
the-battle-of-the-century-pie-fight
After this, Dorothy Coburn receives Babe’s  pie and marches over, demanding, via title “Who threw that poultice?” She returns the favour, after Stan has carefully moved Hall out of the way.
 Youngson’s footage has some judicious edits from this sequence, including the disappearance of the moment where Stan receives a pie of his own.
Also now reinstated is the reappearance of the insurance salesman, who cries out “Don’t you know it’s foolish to throw pies without insurance?”, and is roundly pelted.
Added to the recipients of pastries are a chairwoman beating a rug (“Who threw that goober?!”), and several others. We’ve already seen a man receiving a pie on his freshly shined shoes; now, the shoeshine man also gets a delivery of his own. Ditto, the photographer whose subject is a victim. In the bakery, we see a customer make the demand , via title card, “Gimme a pie!”, before his wish is fulfilled. These little details, previously lost, add a great deal to the previously known footage. Without trying to sound pretentious, the sequence now flows much more organically, as the filmmakers intended it to be seen. Laurel’s later observation that they “made every pie count” stands truer than ever and the even greater plethora of variations on the gag is increased testament to the gag writers’ talent.
Of course, one of the most justly celebrated gags in the whole thing is a cameo by Anita Garvin. Recalling that she did it as a favour to Stan on his lunchbreak, it’s a testament to her talent that she can make a quick, off the cuff shot perhaps the funniest moment in the picture. Falling on the ground, the pie landing beneath her skirt, she registers shock, disgust and embarrassment all at once in a marvellously subtle facial expression, before getting up awkwardly, and pausing to shake her leg ever so gently to dislodge some pastry.  This is where the previous version ended, but the celebrated scene now has a tag – we cut back to the boys, having seen her, laughing away, and Stan even imitating her leg waggle. At this point, the cop re-enters.
“Did you start that pie fight?” He asks.
“What pie fight?” asks Babe, his face a picture of earnest and cherubic helpfulness beneath the pastry; cut to the view of the entire city block consumed by the ritualistic pastry orgy.
Right on cue, a pie lands square in the cop’s face. The boys stifle a laugh, and attempt to saunter nonchalantly off, but turn to running as the cop gives chase. Fade to The End title, and it was all over too soon.
In an age of DVD box sets, eternally cycling YouTube playlists and instant availability of classic (and not so classic) film footage, it’s easy to take for granted how much we have.  The discovery of small chunks of important footage like this, at a time when our L and H wish list is so mercifully small, really make us pore over them and appreciate every frame. And what a wonder it is to be treated to new scenes, rather like bumping into an old, beloved friend in the street and unexpectedly embarking on a new adventure. As such, I found it really quite moving to witness ‘brand new’ footage after all these years. Of course, it’s impossible not to be left wanting more – the one remaining missing scene from BATTLE, and of course the complete HATS OFF – but even if this turns out to be the last major L & H rediscovery, it’s a fitting jewel in the crown of their catalogue.
**By the way, you can catch the new version,of “BATTLE” at the Hippodrome Film Festival of Silent Cinema in Scotland next month, and due to demand there’s a repeat showing in April. It’s also planned to be part of the 2017 Silent Laughter Weekend. Watch this space for details!**