All kinds of funny… Slapstick Festival Day One, Bristol Watershed and Cathedral

They call it Slapstick and you may start the day laughing at a man diving through the Earth to China and finish it with another trying to escape marriage to a woman he thinks has a wooden leg but in between you are astonished by French Benshi and genuinely unable to watch the moment Emily Davison gave her life for Suffragism. Our sense of humour has always derived from concerns, compassion and need to collectively understand.

Here in one of England's most cinematic cities, people gather every year to laugh and, more importantly, to connect. I go to a lot of silent films screenings – yeah, obviously – but these are unique, this city responds in kind every year with sold out shows across the programme and with contributions from across the World.

This year Lobster Films supremo, Serge Bromberg brought so much to the party with restored and rare films fleshing out a fascinating mix of diverse comedies. He’s a pretty diverse man himself in terms of his talents and not only does he restore films he also plays accompaniment and today he provided live narration to Georges Méliès’ La fée Carabosse ou Le poignard fatal (1906) with John Sweeney on piano. It was a riot as Serge improvised off what script there was through twelve minutes of hand coloured Méliès madness involving a knight asking the titular witch for aid in rescuing his sweetheart from all manner of daft threats. Qui, nous connaissions le français Benshi et c'était magnifique!

A witch yes, but what is she thinking?!

Later in the day the tone was altogether more reflective in a discussion of Suffragettes in Silent Comedy with Lucy Porter and Samira Ahmed, moderated by Andrew Kelly. Lucy and Samira were the perfect blend of informed with their responses to the comic and journalistic context of these films – both fascinated by the response and social setting of these films that, regardless of their intent, were not only responding to, but helping to develop. Suffragism was a movement across class and sex, whilst most of the comedies on show were placed in very recognisable Edwardian middle-class South-East London, the newsreels showed the support from trades unions and men. As Jane Duffus – author of The Women Who Built Bristol 1184-2018 – said during the Q&A, many working class men did not have the vote as well.

We loved Chrissie White as Physical Culture Phyllis - in Wife the Weaker Vessel (1915) - see image at the top... and in Tilly and the Fire Engines (1911) with Alma Taylor – voted Britain’s favourite film star in 1915 by readers of Pictures and the Picturegoers,  14,000 votes ahead of Charlie Chaplin. But there was also extended footage of the 1917 Derby in which Emily Davison lost her life trying to pin a rosette onto the King’s Horse, the jockey, Herbert Jones was distraught and haunted by the episode through his life whilst the establishment perpetuated the myth of suicide and not political determination for the educated and brave Emily. In these times we do well to properly study history and the way that things happen and they are then portrayed; I loved this history session and its enquiring use of primary sources! That said, cross-dressing boy-girl Diddums Diddles the Policeman (1912) was wacked as anything and, yes Lucy, the moments when “she” shins up drainpipes and lampposts are indeed hard to unsee… still, do yourself a favour, it’s on BFI Player. Alot of these films are there and on the BFI's Make More Noise DVD.

Hard luck, Buster.

The day began with a screening of three top-tier Buster Keaton comedies with introductory expertise from Polly Rose, screen editor by day and Keaton PhD student by night (and day at the weekend no doubt!) accompanied by Guenter A Buchwald and Frank Bockius: nothing in January 2020 could be much finer! One Week (1920) and The Boat (1921) are sublime, laugh-a-foot-of-film-funny with that extra sprinkle of Sybil Seely but I’d never thought before that the latter was a sequel to the first? Of course now it’s obvious but… Hard Luck (1921) I’d never seen before and is not quite so perfect with Keaton playing off a string of unsuccessful suicide attempts the last of which was only recently recovered and which, he said, gave him the biggest laugh of his career, so much so that they had to delay the feature after it… I won’t spoil it and it’s another restoration care of Serge B.

Talking of whom, the Lobster restoration of Pierre Étaix’s Yoyo (1965) was a total surprise to me and proved to be not the mawkish clown-fest I’d cynically expected. Étaix’s film is so subtle and very smartly pays tribute to the silent era right through to the TV age of the sixties. Étaix plays father and son to cover the ground and the twenties section, with silence only punctuated by exaggerated sound effects was a delight. There was also a convicted murderer in the cast with huge ears and a long trunk… but we have to forgive elephants anything.

And so, to the grand finale and Bristol Cathedral in which, standing high in the pulpit, her expensive posh shoes out of view, Shappi Khorsandi preached to the converted on the subject of silent divas.

Love 'em both!

We started off with Mabel Normand marrying Rosco Arbuckle in Fatty and Mabel Adrift (1916), one of their most winsome films presented with lovely crisp visuals as John Sweeney and Frank Bockius rocked the massive acoustics. Mabs and Rosco are primal screen and both eternally funny, emotionally agile and genuine, they also knew how to fling themselves around physically for the sake of our good time.

By comparison, whilst Viora Daniel and Lillian Biron were definitely female, there was precious little slapstick from either in A Pair of Sexes (1921) in which some daft man accidentally nicks his neighbours twin babies. Still, Dan van den Hurk accompanied with vigour. Definitely diva was Dorothy Devore who made short work of the plot and other characters in Saving Sister Suzy (1921) in which she needs to dress like a child so as to give her sister a chance of winning the man; an odd premise but DD is comedy class!

Also definitely diva and totally slapstick was the remarkable Martha Sleeper in Sure-Mike! (1925), her only leading role according to Silent Diva expert Michelle Facey of the Kennington Silent Speakeasy. Skating at speed through crowded streets, riding on a driverless motorcycle and bravely providing physical comedy, Martha also had an ace face, tough and pretty with a perky presence you’d expect to have found more favour. One of the films and finds of the day!

Martha Sleeper - a Parker Posey for the Jazz Age?

Lastly, we had Charley Chase – definitely no lady although not immune from diva-esque behaviour! In His Wooden Wedding (1925), he shares an hilarious dance routine with Gale Henry – the inspiration for Olive Oil apparently – as he tries to displace a wedding ring from the back of her dress… How did it get there? Well, his best man tells him is intended has a wooden leg…

The European Silent Screen Virtuosi joyfully accompanied the last three with Günter A. Buchwald, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius.

A full day and a splendid full-throated programme. Bring on tomorrow Bristol!

Oranges to California… Nell Gwyn (1926) with Meg Morley, Kennington Bioscope

Nell Gwyn was probably the first major British feature film to succeed in America following almost two decades of under-achievement from one of the birthplaces of motion pictures.

It’s a very competent picture directed by Herbert Wilcox with strong performances especially from Randle Ayrton as King Charles II and Juliette Compton as Nell’s rival for royal affection, but it it’s chief appeal is in the performance of Dorothy Gish from Ohio. The younger Gish sister is unbound and gives one of the most joyful performances I’ve seen in a silent film with a Fairbanks-ian energy from start to finish complete with head thrown back laughing and almost perpetual motion (a high-risk strategy given the lowest of low-cut costumes).

Sister Lillian couldn’t get away with either the abandon or the dresses: Dorothy is far from home and playing away with confidence and her own voice. Maybe she felt she had more technical experience than the Brits or maybe it was just the perfect role for the “Black Sheep Gish”…

In an interview in Photoplay Magazine, Dorothy said that growing up with the Pickfords, she and Mary were the ones who always “started things” whilst Lillian was put on a pedestal by both her mother and Mrs Pickford who said, “too good for this world.” Dorothy was The Little Disturber… and here she set about disturbing the heck out of Wilcox’s film.

The result is simply magnetic and it’s hard to watch anyone else and impossible not to smile along as our inventive orange seller/sex-worker/actress grabs opportunity with both hands and romances the King, becomes an actress and a fixture of British royal life for the 16 years leading up to the King’s death.

You can only wonder at the force of personality required to make the break from her humble origins and to win her Monarch’s love and a place in society for herself and then their two sons. Her influence on social policy is open to debate but Nell certainly did charitable work, leaving a legacy to the inmates of Newgate Prison and being involved – to some extent – in the establishment of the Chelsea Pensioners… a group of whom are seen waving through grizzly grey beards at the film’s end.

The script was adapted from Marjorie Bowen’s novel, Mistress Nell Gwyn, which makes a little merry with the facts – some of which I touched on in my original post of theGrapevine DVD. For this film the rest, as they say, is pop-history… or at least a thin sliver of it running through an easy-going comedy that does portray a believable romance whilst attempting to explain the heroine’s place in history if not necessarily the actuality…

Samuel Pepys was indeed a regular admirer of Nell’s theatre and kept a risqué picture of her in his study whilst the poet John Dryden praises Nell’s greatest attribute as native wit, forcing me to contain my inner Syd James… There is no doubt her glass-ceiling shattering career was historically significant.

It's good to be the King

Meg Morley – who accompanied throughout the evening - excelled with the excesses of court life and clearly enjoyed the mix of theatrical comedy and Gish intimacy. Tonally this must be an interesting film to play for as Dorothy pulls you in as any Gish does but then there is more comedy and light than delivered sister Lil’s occasional method grimness.

Dorothy and Lillian debut in An Unseen Enemy (1912)

Five years younger than Lillian, Dorothy had made a name for herself in comedy after their joint debut in Griffith’s An Unseen Enemy (1912) and this excellent short featured in the first half of tonight’s programme. It’s a tense affair with both sisters locked in a room and terrorised by a drunken thief firing a revolver through a small hole in the wall. Both women are remarkable in this feature and their unconscious styles reveal themselves as different even at this stage: Dorothy does not have Lillian’s intricacy but is no less compellingly believable.

I had previously watched the Grapevine DVD, which is tinted and in decent quality but tonight the Bioscope projected the BFI’s 35mm film and this was a revelation in overall looks: a real treat. Nell deserves to be more widely available as a showcase for Dorothy Gish as well as being the film that may have launched a British Invasion had we the product and marketing reach to follow it up.

Earle Rodney and Dorothy Devore negotiate with the parents...

Before this was an interesting cross-dressing comedy called Know Thy Wife (1918) directed by Al Christie and featuring Dorothy Devore as the fiancé of Earle Rodney whose parents want him to marry the nice girl back home. But he has the perfect plan – nothing can go wrong, at all… dress Dot up as his best man and, er, somehow avoid getting hitched to his folks’ favoured fiancé. There are some interesting confusions – think Lubitsch I Don’t Want to be a Man – before Dorothy’s hair gives her away.

First up was a mystery… a Griffith’s short called Those Awful Hats (1909) a comedy of errors or more specifically over-large headgear that obstructs cinema audiences view of the films – even today, the main reason I refuse to wear a top hat. It’s all straightforward enough except for the fact that projected on the screen was Corner in Wheat, a film made *after* the one in which it features?! The story goes that film students may have inserted the second film years later using a matte projection technique unknown in 1912 – possibly Francis Ford Coppola after one too many in the UCLA Film Studies bar?

If anyone knows anymore, please make a comment: this is a job for The Silent Detective!

UPDATE: The film is definitely not Corner of Wheat and the most likely scenario seems to be that suggested on the Classic Movie Hub: "The film utilized the Dunning-Pomeroy Matte process (an early predecessor to blue-screening). When this film was originally being restored, the elements for the film that is projected in the picture were lost. As an inside joke, the restorers filled it in with a scene from At the Crossroads of Life, a picture that D.W. Griffith himself starred in"

Those Awful Hats with the time-travelling second film projected top left

I should also mention a fascinating short from the film artist known as Arepo entitled Romance and Rococo, which showed the love affair between two porcelain dolls… the characters were constrained by their glazing but what passed between them was very enlightening especially when a worm pushed its way among their rose petals… We’ve all had our hearts cracked by such moments.

Dorothy Gish and Juliette Compton advertise