This was a tiny joy and I really wasn't expecting it to be. Perhaps that's the thing- it's all about expectations. The Chaplin Mutuals were going to be masterpieces, the Chaplin Keystones were going to be simple-minded, barbaric slugfests. And it was silly of me to be thinking like that, even subconsciously. A lot of the other Kesytones I've seen I've really enjoyed. And I really enjoyed this one. Smile on my face all the way through. Lousy DVD print though- French intertitles, inappropriate music, and I'm not even sure the whole thing was there. But the film itself? I loved it.
And such a great, simple farce idea- Mabel is locked out of her hotel room in her pyjamas. After an encounter with an amorous drunk (Chaplin really doesn't seem to be playing a tramp here, it's just the same costume isn't it?) she ends up under Chester Conklin's bed while his wife is out of the room. So simple, and so pregnant with possibilities for the aspiring slapstick hound.
Charlie is actually rather more than a bit player here- whether it's a question of the presentation of the surviving material or not I couldn't say, but his amount of screentime seems pretty much equal with Mabel's: he has whole scenes to himself and he makes the most of them. He is hypnotic for all manner of reasons. Mabel herself is extraordinarily cute, but I've seen her better than this- she is outshone in the scene she shares with Chaplin in the hotel corridor. I'm not buying her the way I'm buying Chaplin. Her movements belong to another age, Chaplin's belong to every age. And I like Mabel Normand, don't get me wrong.
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