The Hobbit (1937)

It’s been ages since I read any of Tolkien’s books, and to be honest, when I read them the first time, I wasn’t quite ready to be doing it.  I fared best with The Hobbit, since that skews younger, but I definitely caught more this time around.

Bilbo Baggins, a well-to-do hobbit, is quite beside himself with the wizard Gandalf turns up at his home with thirteen dwarves looking to recruit him for a quest.  They’re off to reclaim their kingdom (and the treasure that goes with it) from a dragon, and they could use a burglar – which Gandalf insists Bilbo is, although that’s news to Bilbo.  Despite being a homebody suspicious of adventures and things of that nature, Bilbo finds himself agreeing, and he’s swept off on the dwarves’ mission.  Along the way, he faces dangers and calamities and, by turns, learns just what he’s capable of.

When I was younger, I thought it seemed crazy that The Hobbit was intended as a kids’ book, but reading it again, I can really see it.  While the language of that place and period is more sophisticated than what a child would read now, the sentence construction itself is fairly simple, as is the story itself.  Tolkien also mostly resists the urge to play his usual role as Middle-earth historian, only briefly referring to events from the past that he admits don’t really factor into the story he’s telling.  Meanwhile, there’s lots of action, tons of dwarvs with funny rhyming names, and overall, a fairly exciting series of mini-adventures along the way to keep kids interested.  Stuff like the trolls, the spiders, and the barrel-riding definitely make for good vignettes.

Not to sell the book short, because it’s still lovely and well-made.  Gandalf is an immediately-engaging mentor/trickster popping in and out of the proceedings, and Bilbo himself makes a good everyman who’s out of his depth but slowly figuring out what he’s made of; I really enjoy Bilbo’s more personal journey as his contributions to the quest become more and more vital (true, it’s a little unbelievable that so many more-experienced dwarves would start actively looking to him for leadership, but Bilbo’s skillset is different enough from theirs that I can see why he’d be valuable to them.)  The book also contains some really iconic scenes that set it apart from any other fantasy yarn.  Namely, the “riddles in the dark” chapter and Bilbo’s meeting with Smaug are both wonderfully well-done.  With riddles in the dark in particular, you can really feel the blackness and claustrophobia in the writing.

But what makes the book stand out most of all is the very concept of hobbits themselves.  As I said in my assorted posts of the films, I absolutely love hobbits, and I get why everyone else does, too.  Right from the start of the first chapter, I’m utterly charmed by the description of Bilbo, his hobbit hole, and the Shire.  Not only does it set up an interesting dynamic where you have a would-be hero who’s wary of all things heroic, but it’s also a creation that’s unique to these books.  Dwarves, wizards, elves, dragons – you can find those in plenty of fantasy books.  No one else has hobbits.  They’re only in Tolkien, and that makes them special.

Warnings

Fantasy violence, scary moments, smoking, and drinking.

Hollywood Cavalcade (1939)

Another old-Hollywood movie about older Hollywood, which puts it along similar themes as Sunset Boulevard but telling a very different story.  However, while Buster is featured prominently in a few scenes doing slapstick, I’m not really a fan of how it’s done.

Mike Connors, a studio prop man with big ambitions, discovers a talented understudy on a Broadway stage one night and presents himself as a Hollywood bigshot in order to sign her.  He brings the actress, Molly Adair, back to California with him, and together, the two experience the ups and downs of the movie industry.  Under Mike’s direction, Molly’s star rises, but he earns a reputation for being difficult to work with.  Is she benefitting from his vision?  Is he glomming onto her coattails?  Will either of them survive the pitfalls of fame, or later, the transition to sound?

From what I understand, this film is kind of a fictionalized biography of Mack Sennett (the man behind the Keystone Cops and the Bathing Beauties, among other things) and Mabel Normand, the leading lady who came up with him.  I don’t know much about Sennett and can’t speak to that – mainly, I know that Fatty Arbuckle got his start with him and that Buster used the Keystone Cops in his classic short Cops – but as a film, it’s fairly enjoyable.  Although it hits a lot of obvious biopic beats, like the scrappy climber rising to stardom and then experiencing a fall from grace, it hits them well for the most part, and the dynamic between Mike and Molly is interesting to me.  There’s the makings of a love connection there, but it’s also two people who’ve thrown their lots in with one another to tackle the industry, and sink or swim, they mean to do it together.

Where it gets less interesting for me is Buster’s involvement.  As I’ve said before, I don’t find Molly’s silent comedies that Mike directs (and which feature Buster) very funny.  Maybe they’re representative of Mack Sennett-type comedies – again, I haven’t seen any, so I don’t know – but they’re definitely not representative of Buster’s work.  Molly gets her start in comedy accidentally when Buster (her onscreen beau) fumbles to figure out how to confront her rival and throws a pie that misses him and hits Molly.  From there, it’s mostly just a lot of pie-throwing and some later bungling-cop bits.  Not that I’m opposed to either pie-throwing or bungling cops.  After all, Buster created numerous hilarious cop gags in his films, and here, I do enjoy how he winds up to throw a pie like a baseball.  But for the most part, the “gags” are the pie-throwing or the running-around in and of themselves.  The scenarios don’t build or pay off; they’re just “there.”  And while a bunch of cops tripping over each other might get a smile from me, it’s nothing compared to the way I laugh at the cops in The Goat, Daydreams, Cops, or Neighbors.  With my limited experience with non-Buster-related silent comedy, I don’t how typical this type of film might have been.  Is the point that Molly is in these dumb comedies but becomes famous because the public eats it up anyway?  Or is this supposed to be good-quality comedy?  Would this have been considered comedy gold in the ‘20s in general, or by 1939, had Hollywood lost sight of what good silent comedy looks like?  I can’t tell.

I also don’t like the fact that these scenes present Buster as a would-be dramatic leading man who literally stumbles into comedy with his onscreen missteps.  It’s entirely possible that I’m being overprotective, but just like with “The Silent Partner,” I’m not fond of the suggestion that comedy just happens by accident.  While I’m guessing that the film isn’t actively suggesting that Buster Keaton was nothing more than a klutz, it also doesn’t acknowledge the precision, skill, and imagination that goes into great slapstick.  It’s like, drama is an art you create, but anybody can just throw together a comedy.  And Buster’s silent career most certainly proves that that’s not true.

Warnings

Drinking/smoking, some slapstick violence, and thematic elements.

The Stolen Jools (1931)

I never would’ve expected a Buster Monday entry to remind of a Little (TLCw) review, but The Stolen Jools strikes me as an awful lot like The Banquet.  Both are star-studded projects made to raise money for charity, but while The Banquet is a feature film to raise money to aid flood victims, The Stolen Jools is a short to raise money for a tuberculosis sanitarium.  Both, while well-meaning, don’t have a ton in the way of artistic merit or real entertainment and are largely coasting from one celebrity cameo to the next.

The plot is straightforward.  Norma Shearer’s jewels are stolen at a Hollywood function, and an intrepid inspector combs various studio sets, lots, and eateries in search of the perp.  Along the way, he runs into star after star in brief cameos – many play themselves, but a handful, including Buster, play bit characters in their short appearances.

Basically, everybody who was anybody in the early ‘30s is in this movie.  Going through IMDb, the main names I recognize are Wallace Beery (a Buster connection – he played the rival in Three Ages,) Laurel & Hardy, Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Irene Dunne, Gary Cooper, Douglas Fairbanks, Barbara Stanwyck, Fay Wray, and Mitzi Green.  While the plot isn’t any more inspiring than The Banquet’s (although, as a short, it’s by necessity a lot more clear-cut,) I think this film handles its cameos a bit better overall.  Yes, it’s essentially a 20-minute leapfrog from cameo to cameo, but most of the stars have at least a tiny bit to do in their appearances, especially the comic actors.  It’s less, “And now it’s time to trot out Laurel & Hardy!” and more, “Let’s watch Laurel & Hardy clown around for a bit.  Okay?  Box ticked – moving on.”  Still an obvious piece of well-intentioned fluff, but it makes a tiny bit more of an effort (side note:  part of my impressions between the two films could also be the fact that I still haven’t quite acclimated to late ‘80s/early ‘90s Hong Kong comedy.  It’s possible that The Banquet was wonderfully well-received at its time and I just don’t get it, but for me personally, it strikes me as slapped together and more than a little hokey.)

If you’re into old Hollywood, the short has its moments, and at 20 minutes, it’s not a long investment.  Still, if you’re only in it for the Buster of it all, there’s no particular need to watch more than the first two minutes (we’re talking brief cameos all around – how else could you fit “more stars than have ever appeared together in one picture” into two reels?)  He plays a policeman, which takes me back the slightest bit to the Fatty Arbuckle short The Rough House.  In typical Buster fashion, he’s a rather clumsy policeman, and amid the quick bit of slapstick he gets to do is a nice tumble over a partition ending in a neck roll (Buster would’ve been with MGM at this time – at least somebody in the early talkie era recognized that if you have Buster Keaton in your movie, however briefly, you let him do physical comedy!)

Warnings

A little slapstick violence.

Pest from the West (1939)

Fairly decent Columbia short.  Some nice recurring gags and some good physical comedy for Buster to play around with.  While the story is pretty trifling, there’s enough amusing stuff here to keep you entertained.

Buster is a millionaire traveling the world in his boat.  When he docks in Mexico, he immediately falls in love with a beautiful local woman (which, let’s face it, is pretty much Buster’s MO in most of his movies.)  Unbeknownst to him, however, she’s only leading him on in order to direct her husband’s fierce jealousy toward him and away from her secret boyfriend.  Needless to say, there might be a few road bumps along the way to Buster’s desired happily ever after.

I like the recurring gags surrounding Buster’s traveling habits.  Evidently, he has exactly one outfit for every country he could potentially visit, and let’s just say they take “cultural dress” to the extremes – less “cultural awareness” and more “foreign dress-up!” at play here.  That would be goofy enough on its own, but a series of clothing-related mishaps means Buster’s one “Mexico outfit” is put out of commission early in the short and he’s forced to adopt increasingly-incongruous ensembles, hanging around Mexico in lederhosen or Russian furs.  What’s more, he’s apparently known for getting run out of town, because every time his crew sees him racing toward his boat, they immediately prepare to shove off, which results more than once in Buster being deposited in the harbor.

The best sequence involves Buster wearing a pair of shoes with a bunch of tiny spikes/nails/points on the bottom.  The second he leaps from the boat onto the dock in them, they get stuck in a couple of sheets of plywood, so you can tell off the bat that this won’t end well.  It culminates in a hilarious scene of Buster (badly) attempting to dance with his lady love while his shoes are stuck to the ground.  I love watching her dance around him as he slowly winds and unwinds like a corkscrew!

Other than that, there’s not a whole lot to write home about.  For something made by Americans in the 1930s and set in Mexico, I’d say it’s only mildly racist (some jokes playing on “passionate Latin lover” stereotypes,) so that’s a plus.  The plot is kind of silly and mostly an excuse for the gags – nothing especially wrong with it, but a little unmemorable.  The whole thing about Buster just being used by the girl to make her husband jealous paints him as a bit of a schmuck, but only lightly so.  There’s nothing that reaches His Ex Marks the Spot or MGM levels of sad-trombone Buster, which is good; he just carries on, heedless of what’s really going on behind the scenes and undeterred by how anyone reacts.

Warnings

Slapstick violence, smoking references, and some gunplay.