See America Thirst a pre-code comedy with Harry Langdon, Slim Summerville

Review by Doug Gibson

Back in California, and that means a trip to UCLA’s Film & Television Archive to view a mostly-lost film. Harry Langdon was the subject again (two years ago I saw and reviewed My Weakness). This time I viewed a version of Harry’s 1930 Universal “buddy-comedy” film, See America Thirst, directed by William James Craft. It’s a thrill for me to see Harry’s hard-to-find films; next on my bucket list will be a trip to the Library of Congress to see the Hal Roach shorts that lack sound discs.

Speaking of sound, one mild disappointment is that the archive’s print lacked any. And the print I viewed was clearly a sound print. There was way too much talking, and no titles that would have clued a silent version. I know that a version of See America Thirst with sound has played film festivals. I don’t know if UCLA has it or it was my fault when I requested the film. Did I choose a silent version?

The print was in very poor shape, muddy, blurry at times with a couple of vertical jumps and rough transitions. But that didn’t bother me, it adds to the excitement of  viewing a film that is virtually lost and appreciation to the archive for preserving it.

So, here’s my synopsis of the film. To help overcome the dialogue loss, I re-read my friend Ed Watz’ recap of the film in my friend Michael Hayde's biography of Langdon with Chuck Harter, The Little Elf. I also received some input from another friend, artist Nicole Arciola, who has seen the sound version of See America Thirst.

Harry and co-star Slim Summerville are hobos on a train. They get kicked off and try to regroup. They see some sheep and find ducks. Later they encounter an inquisitive police officer. Harry tries to hide the duck (similar to a scene in “Tramp Tramp Tramp”) and fails. The cop chases them and the hobos hide in the back of a truck that is carrying bootleg liquor and driven by hoodlums. A pair of other hoodlums in a vehicle chase them. Gunfire ensues. Harry and Slim are oblivious to it all. A carrying bag falls into the back. Alcohol leaks onto both hobos and they get drunk. A grenade in the back goes off and the vehicle explodes on a bridge. Harry and Slim fall into a river. Harry swims with exaggerated speed to the shore. (Reading Watz I learned that Harry said he couldn’t swim and Summerville said he’d better learn fast.) On the shore the pair discover the bag that fell into the back. It is stuffed with a fortune in cash. As Arciola noted to me, Harry says “Money money money” in much the same manner he did in the last film he made, Pistol Packin’ Nitwits.

Now rich, the former hobos are living it up, renting vehicles, dressed to the nines and going to gangster nightclubs. But the money belonged to the Spumoni crime family and the boss wants it back. After telling the hood who lost the money to take a gun and kill himself (which leads to a lame joke from the returning hood that he missed), Spumoni assigns a hired killer to take out Harry and Summerville at the nightclub.

Singing at the nightclub is a beautiful blonde, played by starlet of the era Bessie Love, who is also apparently a hoodlum’s moll. She’s very scantily dressed in the pre-code manner. After her song the killer approaches the pair. Once they are aware they are being hunted, Harry trembles. Ironically, shaking is a trait used by an even more fearsome killer who is hunting the hired killer. Believing that both Harry and Summerville want to kill them, the hoods pay a fortune to Harry and Summerville so THEY WON’T KILL THEM. (During this scene, a sign in the nightclub switches from TAXI, to AMBULANCE, and finally to HEARSE. The humorous sign switch is supposed to indicate the peril facing Harry and Summerville).

What follows is a series of sometimes amusing scenes where Harry and Summerville are catered to by the hoods, encounter “gangster-friendly” lodgings with armored protection for the beds and disguised platters of food that really contain weapons that fire when the covering is removed. One sequence that lasts way too long, losing its comedy value due to the poor pacing, is Summerville discovering cannons that move and jut outside the windows of a high-rise. Harry, sitting on a cannon, almost falls off, then Summerville almost falls off, and they eventually create a sort of bridge that allows them to hop to another floor. Also, the pair romance the beautiful blonde (Bessie Love) who tells then she’s really a law enforcement agent trying to gather evidence against the Spumonis.

As the film nears its climax, the Spumoni leader, vacationing in Florida, meets up with the real killer they think Harry is. As a result, all the gangsters in Chicago, Spumoni and the rival gang, team up to kill Harry and Summerville, who are in an armored vehicle on the street, expecting, with Bessie Love, to see and be protected from a gang fight. Instead all the gangsters head for the vehicle.

It seems all over for Harry and Summerville, except (and sans sound I’m unsure a bit of how this developed) a professor has invented knockout gas that can be sprayed on the bad guys. Harry and Slim manage to do this and leave all the gangsters unconscious on the streets. (Now Ed Watz is no fan of this film, but he acknowledges that a scene in which Harry, who has run out of the gas -- accepts that his finger used as a spray gun has knocked out the bad guys – is well done. Actually, Summerville is on a canopy spraying away. It is a funny “Little Elf” moment in the film.

Another strong moment in the film is when near the end where Harry, expecting to see his beloved Bessie Love, encounters her in the arms of her fiancé, the District Attorney. This is very similar in pathos to the same type of scene in “Three’s  A Crowd.”

The epilogue involves the pair, with ragged clothes after the battle, discovering that the carrying case full of money now has no money; they lost it. In another decent “Little Elf” moment, Harry wags his finger in disapproval at Summerville, and money comes out of his cuffs. It’s discovered that the money is sown into Harry’s clothes. The pair leave still rich. The End.

Watz is correct in his assessment that the 75-minute film is at times poorly paced. Some of the gags are very forced but the last 10 minutes, in my opinion, are very strong. Watz believes the film is one of Harry’s worst performances. I can’t agree or disagree without hearing the sound. Just watching the visual action, Harry seems more expressive than Summerville, who is more of a straight man. Bessie Love is a very attractive presence, but her part is very small for a third-billed leading lady. Reviews that are cited in “The Little Elf” range from acceptable to the reviewers quite liking the film.

The viewer gets the impression that some of the comedy scenes may be based on vaudeville skits that Harry and Summerville maybe performed in the past. At least scenes are played as if they might have been vaudeville skits. Some of the pair’s banter when romancing Bessie Love plays like that as well as scenes such as the boys getting drunk.

The sets and locations in See America Thirst are above average. There are modernistic sets, particularly in the lodgings of the gangsters. The hoods are played for laughs, as is prohibition, which existed when the film was made. Even with a muddy print, Harry looks healthy and young in the film.

Some old hands in the cast include Stanley Fields and Tom Kennedy as well as a very young Walter Brennan.

If you are in Southern California, go to UCLA and see this film, and My Weakness. It’s not at all difficult to make an appointment to see these almost-lost movies, and the staff at the university library is very helpful. 

(The See America First photos used in this review are courtesy of Richard Finegan).

Chaplin's Vintage Year reviews the series of early comedy shorts

By Doug Gibson

Despite the fact that Charlie Chaplin is generally regarded as the top silent film comic and his persona, as the Little Tramp, is iconic, few realize how incredibly popular he was almost 100 years ago. As Michael J. Hayde notes in his new book, "Chaplin's Vintage Year: The History of the Mutual Chaplin Specials," (Bear Manor Media) it was not uncommon for movie theaters to play a Chaplin short every day of operation. When the British-born star signed to make 12 two-reel shorts for Mutual, a film-exchange group that rented production facilities, he received $670,000 in 1916, an amount akin to about $15 million today.

The Mutual series of films are likely the most accessible of Chaplin's early work. As Hayde explains, they have been by far the most ubiquitous of this era. They were reissued frequently over the next 30 years, in varying formats, with different music, even in one-reel editions. One constant is they tended to make money. For as much as Mutual paid Chaplin for the series, it was a bargain, the 12 films grossed several times what Chaplin earned.

Hayde's book is part of the genre of film and culture where the minutiae of a subject is delved into. For historians, Chaplin enthusiasts, silent film fans, there is a desire to delve deeper into the subject. Hayde, who has authored a book on the Dragnet TV series and co-authored a deep biography of the silent/talkie comedy star Harry Langdon, is capable of fulfilling this duty. The history of the Mutual films, "The Pawnbroker," "The Fireman," "One a.m.," etc., provides a fascinating read. Chaplin was not an actor -- such as Ben Turpin -- who stuck to the same film company. Always seeking bigger paychecks and creative freedom, he moved from Keystone, to Essanay, to Mutual in rapid succession. After the Mutual series, the comic star bolted again. Mutual enjoyed a profitable but short tenure with the Little Tramp, and then faded away. Watch The Count below.

The "ins and outs" of the early movie-making business is described in loving detail by Hayde as it applies to Chaplin. The efforts to consolidate power by a few in the early days of cinema were doomed as the production spread west to Hollywood and stars realized that they were worth more than assumed only a decade earlier. As Hayde writes, as the 20th century began, films were logged at the bottom rung of entertainment, fir for the poorest of the entertainment clientele.



Even when a production company lost control of a star such as Chaplin, Hayde notes that there were still ways to continue making big dollars. Essanay, for example, used just about every extra stock of its Chaplin film to create longer "films" that piggybacked on the Mutual successes. This grafting annoyed Chaplin and others, who sometimes attempted legal action against the slapdash "films."

Many of the executives, film crew and co-stars of the Mutual films are profiled in Hayde's book. I found the life story of Edna Purviance, co-star of the Mutual film series and Chaplin's paramour at the time, to be most interesting. She eventually tired of Chaplin's roving romantic eye but remained on the Chaplin payroll for years until she married. After her husband died in the 1940s she was slated for a Chaplin-related comeback but it didn't happen. Nevertheless, she was on her former lover's payroll for the rest of her life.

Chaplin appears in Hayde's book to be a man focused on details, wanting more time and money spent than execs were comfortable with. If there is a shortcoming to Hayde's book, it is that the main man, Chaplin himself, remains an elusive figure. He's basically portrayed in the passive sense, reacting to events and personalities. To be fair, though, the subject of the book is on Chaplin's Mutual series, and not on the actor.

As for the movies themselves, they are superb efforts, which can now be seen as easily as surfing to YouTube. Their lives, from debut screens to revivals to additions in documentaries to Blackhawk status for collectors, to video, DVD and finally Internet access, is very interesting reading. An extremely detailed summary of the films, from scenes, titles, production, reviews, etc. takes up much of the second half of the book. My favorite of the films is "The Fireman," which encapsulates Chaplin's ability to create sympathy with the audience, despite his foolishness, by virtue of his inimitable mannerisms and deadpan facial expressions. "One A.M.," however, may be the most interesting of the films because it strays from the most successful formula, as noted in "The Fireman." "One A.M." is almost a one-man show from Chaplin. It's interesting that it was among the least successful of the series, it does underscore, though, that Chaplin was not afraid of expanding his artistic persona.

As Hayde notes, his usage of the term "vintage" means excellence with staying power. That defines the 12 Mutual films. Books such as "Chaplin's Vintage Year" are appreciates as they provide new information on a subject that has already been analysed from likely 1,000 different angles.

'Chaplin's Vintage Year' offers a history of the star's early Mutual film series

By Doug Gibson

Despite the fact that Charlie Chaplin is generally regarded as the top silent film comic and his persona, as the Little Tramp, is iconic, few realize how incredibly popular he was almost 100 years ago. As Michael J. Hayde notes in his new book, "Chaplin's Vintage Year: The History of the Mutual Chaplin Specials," (Bear Manor Media) it was not uncommon for movie theaters to play a Chaplin short every day of operation. When the British-born star signed to make 12 two-reel shorts for Mutual, a film-exchange group that rented production facilities, he received $670,000 in 1916, an amount akin to about $15 million today.

The Mutual series of films are likely the most accessible of Chaplin's early work. As Hayde explains, they have been by far the most ubiquitous of this era. They were reissued frequently over the next 30 years, in varying formats, with different music, even in one-reel editions. One constant is they tended to make money. For as much as Mutual paid Chaplin for the series, it was a bargain, the 12 films grossed several times what Chaplin earned.

Hayde's book is part of the genre of film and culture where the minutiae of a subject is delved into. For historians, Chaplin enthusiasts, silent film fans, there is a desire to delve deeper into the subject. Hayde, who has authored a book on the Dragnet TV series and co-authored a deep biography of the silent/talkie comedy star Harry Langdon, is capable of fulfilling this duty. The history of the Mutual films, "The Pawnbroker," "The Fireman," "One a.m.," etc., provides a fascinating read. Chaplin was not an actor -- such as Ben Turpin -- who stuck to the same film company. Always seeking bigger paychecks and creative freedom, he moved from Keystone, to Essanay, to Mutual in rapid succession. After the Mutual series, the comic star bolted again. Mutual enjoyed a profitable but short tenure with the Little Tramp, and then faded away.

The "ins and outs" of the early movie-making business is described in loving detail by Hayde as it applies to Chaplin. The efforts to consolidate power by a few in the early days of cinema were doomed as the production spread west to Hollywood and stars realized that they were worth more than assumed only a decade earlier. As Hayde writes, as the 20th century began, films were logged at the bottom rung of entertainment, fir for the poorest of the entertainment clientele.

Even when a production company lost control of a star such as Chaplin, Hayde notes that there were still ways to continue making big dollars. Essanay, for example, used just about every extra stock of its Chaplin film to create longer "films" that piggybacked on the Mutual successes. This grafting annoyed Chaplin and others, who sometimes attempted legal action against the slapdash "films."

Many of the executives, film crew and co-stars of the Mutual films are profiled in Hayde's book. I found the life story of Edna Purviance, co-star of the Mutual film series and Chaplin's paramour at the time, to be most interesting. She eventually tired of Chaplin's roving romantic eye but remained on the Chaplin payroll for years until she married. After her husband died in the 1940s she was slated for a Chaplin-related comeback but it didn't happen. Nevertheless, she was on her former lover's payroll for the rest of her life.

Chaplin appears in Hayde's book to be a man focused on details, wanting more time and money spent than execs were comfortable with. If there is a shortcoming to Hayde's book, it is that the main man, Chaplin himself, remains an elusive figure. He's basically portrayed in the passive sense, reacting to events and personalities. To be fair, though, the subject of the book is on Chaplin's Mutual series, and not on the actor.

As for the movies themselves, they are superb efforts, which can now be seen as easily as surfing to YouTube. Their lives, from debut screens to revivals to additions in documentaries to Blackhawk status for collectors, to video, DVD and finally Internet access, is very interesting reading. An extremely detailed summary of the films, from scenes, titles, production, reviews, etc. takes up much of the second half of the book. My favorite of the films is "The Fireman," which encapsulates Chaplin's ability to create sympathy with the audience, despite his foolishness, by virtue of his inimitable mannerisms and deadpan facial expressions. "One A.M.," however, may be the most interesting of the films because it strays from the most successful formula, as noted in "The Fireman." "One A.M." is almost a one-man show from Chaplin. It's interesting that it was among the least successful of the series, it does underscore, though, that Chaplin was not afraid of expanding his artistic vision.

As Hayde notes, his usage of the term "vintage" means excellence with staying power. That defines the 12 Mutual films. Books such as "Chaplin's Vintage Year" are appreciates as they provide new information on a subject that has already been analysed from likely 1,000 different angles.

An interview with "Little Elf: A celebration of Harry Langdon" authors Michael J. Hayde and Chuck Harter

Hello Plan9Crunch readers, on Sunday, July 28, 2013, I had the opportunity to have published in the Standard-Examiner a review of two biographies, "Little Elf: A Celebration of Harry Langdon” by Chuck Harter and Michael J. Hayde, and "For Art's Sake: The Biography and Filmography of Ben Turpin," by Steve Rydzewski. Both books are from Bear Manor Media. Over this next week, Plan9Crunch will supplant the review, found here, with interviews with the authors. The first is with Hayde and Harter of "Little Elf ..."

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Q. Harry Langdon was an accomplished vaudeville star, with “Johnny’s New Car,” etc., prior to gaining stardom with Sennett. How prepared was he after his stint with shorts, to step into features? 

HARTER: Langdon had performed in various aspects of live entertainment for 20 years and knew how to make an audience laugh. He had also written much of his own material. The different approach to comic acting in movies would have been new to him but he quickly adapted to film acting in the Sennett shorts. After a few years in the two-reel field he was certainly experienced and ready for features. Langdon was a great pantomimist and observer of comic performances, plus he had a core group of collaborators that helped mold his comic persona in very successful films. So he was definitely ready in a talent sense.

HAYDE: What hurt Langdon while doing the features was the pressure of running his own company. He was no businessman, but the most successful comedians in those days were their own producers and status demanded that he follow that model.

HARTER: He was also under various personal pressures including a “Yoko Ono”-type paramour. Reviewers had called him “The Next Chaplin” early on and this, along with the personal issues, gave Langdon a false sense of superiority. Yet despite all that, he quickly adapted and did some excellent acting in the silent features.

Q. I’m amazed at Langdon’s ability to convey emotion, and produce humor, just from his facial expressions. Yet he seems to need a good team around him. In your opinion, who were the biggest assets to Langdon -- Capra, Harry Edwards, Vernon Dent, Ripley ...?

HARTER: Langdon's biggest assets were his many years of experience in live performances along with his varied skills in writing, performing, musicality and desire for artistic growth. His core team of Director Harry Edwards and later Frank Capra, scriptwriter Arthur Ripley and co-stars such as Vernon Dent caused Langdon to shine when he applied his talents.

HAYDE: I don’t think any one of them was more important than the others. As we said in LITTLE ELF, Edwards, Ripley, Capra and Langdon were all pieces of a puzzle that combined to shape and refine Harry’s quirky stage persona into something that really came through on the silent screen. Vernon Dent was a very capable co-star and there are moments that imply they could have made an effective team, but Langdon made many memorable films without him.

Q. I think “The Strong Man” and “Threes a Crowd” are masterpieces that should be considered alongside “The Kid” “The Freshman” and “The General” as silent comedy classics. But they are not. They do not get played on Turner Classic Movies and revival houses don’t play them as much. He has not joined Chaplin, Keaton and Lloyd as iconic figures. Is this due to the negative influence of Capra, or the short rise and fall of Langdon as a features star in the silent era? 

HARTER: Langdon died in 1944. At that time silent movies were not the revered, analyzed and cherished art form that flourished in later years. As a result, due to his being relegated to short subjects and small supporting roles in the last years of his career, Langdon's death was barely noticed. He never appeared on television in the 1950's, which would have brought a whole new audience for his vintage films.

HAYDE: Exactly: he wasn't around to promote himself. For years, the “old guard” of silent comedy authors and historians called “The Strong Man” Langdon’s only masterpiece. That kind of put him in the category of a “one trick pony,” limiting his appeal. Moreover, Frank Capra took a lot of credit for its success, with the consequence of denigrating Langdon’s importance to his own film! Certainly Chuck and I expect that LITTLE ELF will help change these perceptions.

HARTER: As far as his best features not being revived, Langdon is a very acquired taste and must be really viewed in depth to appreciate his skills. His character is multi-varied, strange, sometimes eerie and is on the whole a bizarre persona. He is always interesting to watch, and like Keaton he’s not always laugh-out-loud funny, but a fascinating actor nonetheless. Langdon's initial huge success in the 1920s was in part due to the fact that he worked much slower than other comedians and was such a revelation in context to the more hurried pace of the ‘20s comedy films. Langdon’s artistic peak was only for the years 1925-1927 while the other comedy greats had a longer time span of artistic and commercial success.

HAYDE: There are also rights issues with the classic features. They’re no longer owned by Warner Brothers, who sold them to Raymond Rohauer in the late 1960s. The same company that owns all the Keaton silents owns Langdon’s First National features, but the demand for the latter isn’t on the same level. It’s fortunate that Langdon did some excellent work for Mack Sennett. Most of those films have been restored and the best of them have played on TCM. His Hal Roach shorts, which are not the disasters of legend but mostly surprisingly good showcases for his character, have also turned up on the network. This can only work in Langdon’s favor.

Q. Langdon, due to personal decisions, was broke through most of his life in the 1930s and on. However, a careful look at his post-silent career shows an actor/director/writer who maintained a busy schedule. He certainly worked more than Keaton, Lloyd, Turpin, Chaplin ... It seems that he managed to make a living in an era in which comedy had moved to dialogue rather than expression. How resilient to adversity was Harry, in your opinion?

HARTER: Harry Langdon was a survivor, with varied skills and talents and had a great work ethic. He was always pursing any possibilities for employment in show business. He did tend to live in the moment and spend freely but was always optimistic that other opportunities would present themselves. They always did and Langdon rebounded many times from apparent failure and worked regularly up until his death in 1944. He literally died in harness, had a comfortable living and owned a house. So he went out doing what he loved, had a happy marriage and a young son that he adored.

HAYDE: There was still a place for physical comedy and sight gags in the talkie era, and Langdon was right there with the best of them. Plus, having worked on the stage for so long in a succession of acts in which he talked and sang, he was not flummoxed by sound, as were many of his colleagues who didn’t have that training. He and Keaton didn’t let the status of having been major stars in the silent era keep them from accepting jobs that might seem unworthy of their talents from a latter-day perspective. They both enjoyed working and, since they lacked the excessive financial security of a Chaplin or Lloyd, needed to work. Do Langdon’s later films measure up to the standards of his greatest silents? Of course not; neither do Keaton’s, but many of those films have some marvelously funny moments that could have originated with no other comedian. Other than a handful of Columbia shorts, there are no out-and-out disasters among Langdon’s talkie films. Working at low-budget places like PRC and Monogram actually benefited Langdon: he got a level of creative freedom that other comedians, like Laurel & Hardy, did not enjoy at the big film factories.

Q. What is Langdon’s best talkie work, and why?

HARTER: Of the four great silent master clowns, Langdon had the best voice that suited his silent screen persona. When he had a positive and creative environment to act in talkies, he always delivered comic performances that entertained. Unfortunately, much of his later work suffered from inferior scripts, lackluster direction and low budget production values. However, there are scattered comic gems throughout his talkie career that display his talents in a fully intact manner. His best talkie work included: Hal Roach Studios Two Reel Short Subjects 1. “The Big Kick” (1930) – A great short that showcases Langdon’s gift for pantomime with dialogue at a minimum but effectively used. 2. “The Shrimp” (1930) – His best short for the Roach Studios which contains fine acting and dialogue. Educational Pictures Two Reel Short Subjects 1. “The Hitch Hiker” (1933) – A great Educational short that features an exquisite lengthy pantomime sequence and snappy dialogue. 2. “Knight Duty” (1933) – His best talkie short that is a gem in every way and fully convinces that Langdon could achieve the same quality as his silent film performances. Talkie Features 1.“A Soldier's Plaything” (Warner Bros., 1930) – Langdon co-stars in this early War comedy and delights with great dialogue and sings a cute musical number in which he accompanies himself on piano. 2. “Hallelujah! I'm A Bum” (United Artists, 1933) – An all-musical experiment that stars Al Jolson. Langdon co-stars and sings his dialogue to great effect. 3. “My Weakness” (Fox, 1933) – Langdon plays a Cupid like Greek Chorus who comments on the various action. This may be his best talkie appearance and sadly the film is not available. A print resides at UCLA and one hopes that it will be released on DVD in the future. 4. “Misbehaving Husbands” (PRC, 1940) – A low budget feature that emerges as a charming showcase for Langdon’s skills. His portrayal of a timid husband is genuinely funny and he has several great scenes throughout.

HAYDE: I agree with my partner with all of those, but would also add another feature: “Double Trouble” (Monogram, 1941), in which Langdon partners with Charley Rogers. The two make a good team, playing a pair of innocents similar to Laurel & Hardy, yet without evoking them. Harry revives his original “Elf” character for this film, and it’s a worthy and very funny showcase, especially when he impersonates a woman against his will. For more details pick up a copy of “Little Elf: A Celebration of Harry Langdon” by Chuck Harter and Michael J. Hayde, published by Bear Manor Media. Thanks Michael and Chuck.

By Wednesday, July 31, Plan9Crunch will publish an interview with Steve Rydzewski, author of the Turpin biography, "For Art's Sake ..."

 Again, here is a link to my Standard-Examiner review of both books. Thanks for reading, Doug Gibson.

Headline: Books on silent stars Turpin, Langdon, an example of small-press thoroughness

By Doug Gibson, Standard-Examiner, July 28, 2013

Silent film comedy stars Harry Langdon and Ben Turpin inhabit the middle tier of fame. They’re not among the silents’ A-list — Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd — but they’re above Andy Clyde, Billy Bevan, Larry Semon and a host of others. Turpin, by virtue of his crossed-eyes, is an iconic character, even if many who recognize the face can’t place the name. Langdon, who rivaled Chaplin in his ability to produce emotion, pathos and laughs with a mere shifting of his eyes, was directed by Frank Capra, and co-starred with a very young Joan Crawford in his salad days. ...

The entire review is here.