Film Favourites: Pardon Us

This poster was made during Tamara de Lempicka's opium-and-cough-syrup period.

The Film

Sorry, can we take a moment to look at Stan Laurel's face on that poster again?

This is the face of a man who hears nothing but the screaming of the tormented.

What is this monster? That's not a cheeky caricature of the better half of a classic comedy duo, that's someone who's seen more horrors than you could even imagine. This person is so damaged that their face is permanently frozen in a blank, unblinking stare that barely hides the broken mind tearing itself apart underneath. Never before has an image so perfectly captured a person completely broken by exposure to a lifetime of unfathomable terror.

Anyway. If you aren't familiar with the greatest comedy pair in the history of history then close this tab, turn around and walk away from the computer. Keep walking until you stumble into something that kills you. I'm sorry, you didn't deserve to live.

Ow.

The Plot

Interestingly, Pardon Us is not about a mentally scarred war veteran rotting away inside his own skull; it's actually Laurel and Hardy's first ever feature film about two Prohibition-era beer barons who get thrown in jail for selling their home brew to a police officer. Stan and Ollie inevitably piss off the warden and get thrown in a cell with the Tiger, the toughest guy in the joint. The pair try to survive prison life (going to school and the dentist in the process because of course) before inadvertently making a daring escape; hijinks ensue, hilarity turns up and eats all the dip and racial insensitivity gets drunk and starts dancing on the kitchen table.

Literally dancing.

The Critique

Pardon Us is still funnier than most of the modern comedies I've seen over the years. I know people always say that, with their nostalgia-tinted spectacles and mouths covered against this modern filth with the lace hanky of snobbishness, but it's true. It is one of the best comedies ever, even with it's age showing quite glaringly nowadays, and not just in the nearly 15 minute long skit based around the two main characters being in blackface.

"Nope, nothing racist going on over here..."

The editing is ropey, sound effects turn up if and when they feel like it, and continuity is for pussies who even know what the word means; but that's half of the charm of it. I've seen this movie so many times I know when the camera is about to jump or a crash is going to come in 5 seconds late, and it makes it even funnier. Observe:

This is exactly how it looks in the film.

As for the jokes and set pieces themselves, they are gold. From Stan struggling with a blanket to the pair accidentally causing a prison riot, it is all perfect in every way. My personal favourite has to be when they attempt to save a woman from a burning building; it's nothing you won't have seen before but it's still somehow brilliant.

Two dentist's chairs in the same room? This couldn't possibly lead to anything hilarious happening.

Then there's the music.

I need say nothing about "Lazy Moon" that the song doesn't say itself but safe to say, it is wonderful. With that music accompanying a film chock full of superbly imaginative and diverse comedy how could you not enjoy it, shabby edges and all?

It's Special Because...

I've seen this film so many times because it's possibly one of the first films I ever saw. My grandad (yup, this is a grandparent memory; get tuning your violins) taught me three things as a child: how to play cards, how to give someone the ole' V and how to love Laurel and Hardy. He had a stack of VHS tapes that he'd bought or recorded off the TV of dozens of Fatty and Skinny (as my brother and I called them) shorts and movies and, almost every Sunday without fail, one of them would get put on for the two of us while maw and paw had tea in the kitchen with Granny and Auntie Julie. 

Then we'd go galivanting off in search of buried treasure, getting home just in time for some cool ginger beer and tiffin.

The video that got put on the most, however, was this one. Half because I loved, and still do love, "Lazy Moon" and half because it's a solid hour of absolute fucking genius. Laurel and Hardy will forever be synonymous with those afternoons to me and I am endlessly thankful to my grandad for introducing me to their chaotic, slightly racist influence from such an early age. I never feel closer to him than I do whenever I put one of their films on; whether that's to do with it's association with the memory of him or because I keep his teeth in my Way Out West DVD case, I'm not sure. I guess we'll never know.

Best Enjoyed With

A bakewell tart on a rainy weekend when you've got fuck all else to do. Or, additionally, the very moment your grandchildren develop the ability to appreciate the comedic properties of grievous bodily harm.