Ever since this weekend's blog-a-thon was announced back in July, I've been feasting on a fairly regular diet of slapstick movies in order to get better acquainted with this film technique. What a treat! I enjoyed watching sloe-eyed Mabel Normand spoof the virginal damsel-in-distress in shorts like Bangville Police (1913) and well-upholstered Marie Dressler's freewheeling performance in Tillie's Punctured Romance (1914), got re-acquainted with Charlie Chaplin in the latter film and then saw a very different (and talking) Charlie in The Great Dictator (1940), laughed mirthfully at rotund Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle's unexpectedly agile performance in The Cook (1918), had a good time with the self-reflexivity and naughtiness of A Reckless Romeo (1920) and the surrealism of The Play House (1921), chuckled at a gender bending, gun-totting Fay Tincher beating a cowboy in a boxing match in Rowdy Ann (1919), smiled at reedy Harold Lloyd's body transformations and romantic predicaments in Number, Please (1920), snickered at milquetoast Harry Langdon's bid to win the girl in All Night Long (1924), marveled at the acrobatic prowess of Buster Keaton in the extended running gags of Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928) and The General (1927), grinned at slow-moving W.C. Fields' slick shtick (say that five times fast) in The Bank Dick (1940), laughed hardest at the unconstrained chaos of the Three Stooges in full cry in No Census, No Feeling (1940), and topped it all off this morning with one of my favorite Warner Bros Looney Tunes, Rabbit Seasoning (1952).
Experiencing the many hilarious movies above, and reading a bit about this particular approach to filmmaking, I began to realize that the comedy is enhanced by the talent of individual performers, by pantomime and acrobatics, by robust energy and speed, spontaneity, surprise and suspense, running gags and chains of destruction in extended mise-en-scène, camera tricks and other technical manipulation, masks, props and body transformation, sound effects and music. Though these conventions are familiar in slapstick comedies it is possible to imagine a slapstick without any one or even all of these elements.
Having your bill blown sideways is "deshhhpicable." And funny! |
However, there is one convention that all but defines the comedy style, and without which it couldn't truly be termed slapstick. Slapstick films make us laugh through representations of exaggerated violence that don't result in anyone being seriously injured. In other words, we laugh at violence on the screen, even if it appears to hurt someone, as long as the injury is shown to be temporary. Whether Marie Dressler gets kicked in the rear for the thirtieth time in Tillie's Punctured Romance, W.C. Fields pounds on his daughter's head in The Bank Dick, or Elmer Fudd blasts off Daffy Duck's bill once again in Rabbit Seasoning we laugh despite, or because of, the fact that such violence is unexpected, socially unacceptable, exaggerated for effect, and staged so that we know that no one has sustained permanent injury.
The slapstick tradition actually predates the cinema by many years. A "slapstick" refers to a prop of the Italian commedia dell'arte; a stick made of two pieces of wood bound at the handle which make a very loud crack when applied to a character on the stage. This exaggerated violence seems more realistic thanks to the loud racket issued by the slapstick,and it's funny since the audience can see that the performer isn't really injured though it sounds as though he/she has been struck viciously.
A primitive form of screen slapstick reaches all the way back to one of the earliest experiments of the cinema, the Lumière brothers' short, L'Arroseur arrosée (1895). In what has been called the first comedic film, a boy plays a prank that causes a man using a watering hose to spray himself, and he gets slapped in retaliation. This film is obviously staged and the representation of violence is just for laughs (whether one does is another matter). In the U.S. a form of the slapstick tradition was passed on through vaudeville and transferred to the screen in the early silent period by filmmakers like Mack Sennett and performers like those working for the Keystone studio. In the silent cinema musical accompaniment plays an important part in reinforcing the tempo and rhythm on the screen, but improvised action often has to compensate for the lack of realistic sound especially when violence is portrayed. Perhaps that has something to do with the inspired and still unmatched performances by Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Arbuckle, et al.
The facial expressions are funny, but you should hear the slap. |
One of more direct applications of the old slapstick stage routine in the sound period is seen in the Three Stooges shorts. Sound technicians added any number of original sound effects over the act's on-screen mayhem to reinforce the exaggerated representation of violence. To see how the addition of sound effects improve the illusion of violence in these shorts just watch one with the sound turned off. Yes, it might look as though Moe really hits Curly with a chisel, but turn up the sound and you'll hear "KONK!" and Curly's "Oh! Oh! Oh!"— suddenly the simple bit becomes twice as effective and, more importantly, twice as funny. Still, it's the fact that seconds later Curly is back to his old self again, and the chisel has left no mark on his cropped cranium that we're able to keep laughing.
Alfred Hitchcock once said that it's funny to see a man blindy stroll over an open manhole and fall in, but if we look into the hole and see him lying there bloody and broken we'd be cruel creatures indeed to continue laughing. Lucky for us that slapstick films rarely cross the line between comedy and cruelty. Sure slapstick can be violent but that's what makes it so much fun to watch. Besides, it's just a gag, and though accidents can and do happen slapstick performers were/are professionals who know their craft well. So laugh it up folks, but don't try this at home.
This essay written by Thom Ryan
© 2007 Thom Ryan Some rights reserved
Very good post, Thom. To your introductory list, I’d add Shemp ironing Moe’s pants bottom while Moe is still wearing the pants. I swear, there is nothing funnier on Earth.
Thanks for running this Blog-a-Thon. It’s a lot of work, and it is much appreciated.
Posted by: Pierre Fournier | 06 September 2007 at 11:18 PM
W.C. Fields had more ways to make fumbling with his hat funny that one would think could be humanly possible.
Posted by: Edward Copeland | 07 September 2007 at 06:45 AM
Thanks Pierre and Edward.
Pierre - Shemp's pants pressing predicament sounds hilarious. I'll have to track that one down. I recently discovered this excellent and robust site chock full o' Stooge info. I'll wager I can find it there.
Edward - That's a fact. When I think of funny subtle gestures I usually think of Oliver Hardy twiddling his tie, but Fields shows off his mastery of them in the The Bank Dick.
Posted by: Thom | 07 September 2007 at 07:27 AM
Thom: Your post serves as a very good introduction to slapstick. I like the way you bring it all the way back to the Lumière brothers.
Thank you for organizing the blog-a-thon. I've enjoyed every post so far.
Regards,
Joe Thompson ;0)
Posted by: Joe Thompson | 07 September 2007 at 02:55 PM
Thank you, Joe.
I agree the posts make for great reading. One of the things that I admire about the writing of film bloggers is how descriptive we can be about films and filmmakers we love and/or are interested in sharing with others. Some of these film bloggers have even promised to write more as the blog-a-thon continues through the weekend, so perhaps the best is yet to come.
Now, I think I'll settle in with a double bill of Arbuckle shorts and Raising Arizona.
Posted by: Thom | 07 September 2007 at 04:38 PM
Thom, this is beautiful writing!
I must confess that I never really liked slapstick, but your exploration of this kind of cinema is thought provoking. Verrrry interesting . . .
Congratulations on your blog-a-thon!!!
Posted by: jmac | 08 September 2007 at 07:40 AM
Hold on everybody, put down your selzer bottles and stop throwing pies for second—film artist and poet Jmac is in the house!
A heartfelt thank you, J. As you're not a big fan of slapstick it's very nice of you to lend your support to the blog-a-thon. If you like my writing here you should read what the rest of these brilliant bloggers are posting :)
And if you should get in the mood to dip a toe into the waters of slapstick may I recommend Buster Keaton's Sherlock Jr. and/or the first act of The Play House for you? The self-reflexivity, absurdity, technical experiementation, and Keaton's own accomplished acrobatics might speak to the experimental cinema lover in you even as they help you laugh.
Thanks again, J.
... Ok, everyone start whipping pies again, call the Keystone Kops back, and someone tell Charlie, Roscoe, and Mabel to start making a ruckus!
Posted by: Thom | 08 September 2007 at 08:23 AM
:) You make slapstick sound so sexy! I haven't seen a Buster Keaton film in a long time, and you are so right about him. I'll check out the other writers in the blog-a-thon too!
Also, is slapstick a primarily American thing? I seem to recall a French filmmaker who made a slapsticky work about his bicycle, it was delightful. As you can see, I'm not the expert here! Pie in the face ... :)
Posted by: jmac | 08 September 2007 at 10:19 AM
J - [throws a cream pie] European screen comedians like André Deed, Max Linder, Jean Durand's Les Pouics troupe and others made slapsticky films for Pathé, Gaumont and Itala that pre-date the founding of Keystone in America in 1912 and the great heyday of silent slapstick. [ducks the expected return fire] Luke over at The Bioscope is posting a series on some of the earliest European screen comedians starting right here. I'd also advocate the trick films of Méliès as being influential because so many of his in-camera tricks turn up in slapstick films.
Do you recall the title of that bicycle film?
Posted by: Thom | 08 September 2007 at 10:51 AM
That might be a Jacques Tati film, I'd bet. Probably Jour de Fete. I strongly considered writing on Tati for this 'Thon. I also flirted with Harold Lloyd, Jackie Chan, and the influence of silent comics (particularly Chaplin) on Warner Cartoons of the 1930s. But for various reasons I finally settled on Buster Keaton.
Posted by: Brian | 10 September 2007 at 01:27 AM
Hey Brian! That's it! Jacques Tati!
Thom, I do not think that I've seen Andre Deed, Max Linder, and Jean Durand's films. Thanks for this info! I see I have a lot of films to see & reading to do here.
On to Brian's Buster Keaton . . .
Posted by: jmac | 10 September 2007 at 07:27 AM
Brian - Thank you. And now I need to add Tati's film to my queue (did I mention yet that it's so overflowing that I might have to get a second account?). The exchange of films and filmmakers is one of my favorite results of the blog-a-thon.
Jen - Back for more? :) Brian's post is about another one of our favorite Keaton films and he raises some excellent slapstick questions too.
Posted by: Thom | 10 September 2007 at 08:40 AM
Great writing keep up the good work.
Posted by: funny videos | 18 September 2007 at 12:36 AM
Thanks for the encouragement. There's some funny stuff going on over a your own blog, I must say.
Posted by: Thom | 18 September 2007 at 07:04 AM
Another of the virtues of slapstick is that it transcends language. You can play Charlie Chaplin's silent films anywhere around the world, and have the same laughter resulting.
Posted by: Tom Raymond | 14 April 2008 at 06:44 PM
That's a good point, Tom. Perhaps that's a large part of what drives the entertainment value of slapstick across time, space, and cultures with greater ease than other forms of comedy that do rely on language.
Posted by: Thom | 15 April 2008 at 11:42 AM