Showing posts with label Roscoe Fatty Arbuckle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roscoe Fatty Arbuckle. Show all posts

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Coney Island (1917)

Why it's here:
We were looking to include something from the Fatty Arbuckle/Buster Keaton comedy team. This was a good choice because it contains incredible shots of Coney Island in 1917. Actually, this movie manages to kill several birds with one stone as it also allows you to introduce your kids to the Keystone Cops (Kops?).

Specs:
About 25 minutes, black and white, silent, and easy to find on Youtube.

Our family's average rating (on a scale of 1-10):
7.0

More about the film and our reaction to it:
I gotta 'fess up. I stuck this film into the list at a later date. When I first put our festival together I didn't really care about Buster Keaton or Fatty Arbuckle, nor did I have any reason to want to see them together. It wasn't until after we watched Sherlock Jr. (1924) and were blown away by the talent of Keaton, that it seemed an important to beef up on his career.

By discovering Keaton, I also discovered Arbuckle -- his talent, his role in giving Keaton a start, and the true story behind Arbuckle having been falsely accused of a crime (see that story in another post). Speaking of Keaton's start in films, it came in 1917, when he visited Arbuckle's New York film studio and was given the opportunity for a small part in the Butcher Boy. Keaton was a natural. Arbuckle immediately put him on his comedy team where they made about a dozen short films together before going their separate ways (cinamatographically) though remaining close friends for life.

Coney Island, one of their earlier collaborations, is enjoyable for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is being able to see Keaton smiling, laughing, and clapping in an animated way, before he adopted his famous deadpan style. Fatty is very funny in this as well, beginning with an opening scene where he's playing with sand on the beach in such a childish way that my kids felt sure that the woman next to him must be his mom (rather than his wife.) I'd have been happy to let them persist in that belief since he subsequently ditches her and runs around after a young woman, but the screen titles told the truth.

Anyway, their onscreen pairing is charming and the whole thing fun in a juvenile way. This is s a film that you probably won't need to pull teeth, or explain the importance of, in order to get your kids to watch it with you.

Iconic shot:

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Masquerader (1914)

Why it's included:
Prior to his becoming an independent filmmaker, Charlie Chaplin appeared in comedy shorts with, among others, Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle. We wanted to see the two of them together and to see Chaplin before he was performing as the iconic Little Tramp character.

Specs:
16 minutes long, black and white, silent film. Available online. The best copy we were able to find on Youtube was not in great shape - sections of the film are dark and contrast poor. 

Our family's average rating (on a scale of 1-10):
6.17

More about the movie and our reaction to it:
We need to get this out of the way right now. You may be someone, like many others, who only knows the name Fatty Arbuckle as synonymous with horrible scandal. Let me spread the word that Fatty was innocent. Here's the story:

On Labor Day weekend in 1921, Fatty threw a big raucous party in San Francisco that went on for days. Many fashionable Hollywood personnel attended, including a young starlet named Virginia Rappe. Details are a bit sketchy, but it seems clear enough that while there, she got very drunk and collapsed. Those at the party, including Fatty, attempted to provide some assistance to her but ultimately she died at the hospital of a ruptured bladder. Not only did Fatty not abuse or murder her, no one did. She was not murdered. Nevertheless, Fatty was tried for the crime and ultimately acquitted, but his career was over due to the continuos skewering he received in the press. The public turned on him and Hollywood banned him. Now, you might still find him liable for having thrown such a party in the first place, or for not rendering enough assistance to Rappe, that's fine. But from where I sit, I see Fatty as the victim of a ruthless brand of journalism that ruined his career and happiness to sell papers. (Buster Keaton later told the story of how William Randolph Hearst admitted he sold more newspapers on the Fatty Arbuckle scandal than he did on the sinking of the Lusitania).

With that out of the way, lets move on to what should be Fatty's real legacy: he was a remarkably prolific comedian and pioneering filmmaker in the early days of cinema. His work helped shape the very roots of comedy. He took under his wing and assisted the careers of both Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton (as well as Bob Hope), and was a silly, sweet-looking, childish man, who looked surprisingly good in drag, was stunningly fleet-footed and athletic for his size, and a clever filmmaker. His style of slapstick is perfect for kids in some ways - very physical and very goofy, he's like a cartoon come to life - but inappropriate in others: Fatty's films tend to be earthy and libidinous, with wives often being treated poorly or escaped from.

So lets get on to "The Masquerader"! This is a funny and fairly watchable film but we don't recommend it highly. The plot is hard to follow and rather nonsensical. And, as I mentioned above, the film quality is poor enough to be distracting. But there are a couple of nice attractions including the scene with the two stars preparing themselves at their dressing table, and a cute scene where Chaplin gets in drag and becomes as a very pretty girl. This film may not be the "best" for either of these stars, but we chose it to experience them together. Its great to see a young Chaplin, sans moustache, looking nothing like we're used to seeing him. 

We will recommend some other Chaplin films that are far more enjoyable than this, and, if you're interested in more Arbuckle, you can't do better than to watch him in any of the short films he made with Buster Keaton between 1917 and 1919.



Iconic shot: