Hooray for Harold Lloyd!
If you've ever heard of Harold Lloyd, you probably think of him as the guy hanging from the clock. But chances are you don't know anything else about him. You don't know how he got stuck on that clock, or if he ever got off. Maybe the clock was his natural habitat, and he lived a happy and peaceful fourscore and seven dangling from its hands. How can we ever really know?
Partly, this is Lloyd's own fault. As a comedian he took a long time to hit his stride. Early in his career, he is reported to have asked Hal Roach: "What do I do to be funny?" However, by the time he went independent, he'd figured that one out better than any mortal man should be permitted.
Unfortunately, his best stuff is not on video. After the coming of sound film and until his death, Lloyd kept these movies in a vault in his home at Greenacres, impeccably preserved but almost never seen. The wonderful Grandma's Boy is out on DVD, and Safety Last (the one with the clock) can occasionally be found on VHS. But after that, nothing. No Girl Shy, no The Kid Brother, no Speedy.
At least, not until this year. Thirty-four years after Lloyd's death, his granddaughter and tireless champion Suzanne Lloyd has contracted to have all of Lloyd's silent, independent features released on DVD. And, unbelievably, all of them will have limited theatrical release.
I can barely articulate how miraculous this is. I can only say -- if you're in the vicinity of Chicago's Music Box Theatre between July 1st and 7th -- go. Don't hesitate, don't question. Just go. I will envy you.
Okay, you're owed perhaps a little bit of an explanation. Just enough so you have something to tell your friends when they ask why you're making a special trip to see a bunch of eighty-year-old silent movies about a guy in a straw boater and glasses. The answer is -- because that's the way they need to be seen.
Harold Lloyd knew how to work a crowd. A crowd isn't an essential ingredient for his movies: they come across on the small screen. Even when that screen's one or two viewers have popcorn crumbs all over their Hello Kitty micro-tees. But, aside from hygeine, those one or two viewers will be missing something special.
I've had the privilege of seeing Speedy -- Lloyd's last silent feature -- more than once in a theater with a good-sized crowd. By the end, all of us knew, without doubt, that we had been in the hands of a professional.
Once Harold has you in your seat, he strikes. First, he makes you care about the people onscreen and what happens to them. Then he takes you for the ride of your life.
Here is all I can tell you about Speedy. After many incidents that it's better to let you discover on your own, the second act of Speedy climaxes with a brawl. But not just any brawl. No cardboard chairs or bottles breaking over anybody's head. No, this is a teeth-pulling free-for-all. It's hired thugs versus octegenarian Civil War veterans in a take-no-prisoners fight over New York City's last horse-drawn streetcar. Dogs, sporting equipment, and laundry all join the battle, and offer no mercy. This is an onslaught the audience is powerless to resist.
After long minutes, when the fight fades out and the music quiets, people in the audience are actually exhausted and near tears with laughter. The screen remains black for a few moments. Then the third act kicks off with the perfect title. The audience, which has laughed until it couldn't laugh any more, breaks out in a fresh wave. It's a beautiful thing to witness.
And Speedy isn't even considered Harold's best film.
So go. Don't just watch Harold hang from the clock. Be the clock, and let Harold hang from you. You will be so happy you did.