Fatty and Mabel's Simple Life

Fatty is a farmhand on the farm owned by Mabel's father. Their neighbor holds their mortgage and indicated in a letter that he would no longer collect rent IF Mabel were to marry his son (Al St. John). In many ways, this film is very reminiscent of another Arbuckle short, MABEL AND FATTY ADRIFT, as this also features Fatty working on the farm owned by Mabel's parents AND the neighbor, Al St. John wants to marry her. BUT, in MABEL AND FATTY'S SIMPLE LIFE, Mabel's father does want St. John to marry his daughter and what happens from there is very different. In fact, they are different enough that both films can be enjoyed, though MABLE AND FATTY ADRIFT is perhaps one of Arbuckle's greatest films, whereas this one is about average for the star (which is STILL good).

As Mabel's selfish Dad is trying to sell her off, she elopes with Fatty and there is a prolonged chase. Cute stuff worth seeing.

This Fatty Arbuckle-Mabel Normand finds the two of them down on the farm where her dad doesn't approve of his daughter's interest in a guy with no future. He's got plans for her to marry the son of the richest man in the county who coincidentally enough has the mortgage on the property.

I nearly blew my mind when I saw the handsome, but shallow suitor was Al St. John who later became a comic sidekick in hundreds of B westerns. He also was Fatty Arbuckle's nephew.

Arbuckle and Normand are a pretty funny pair and that last scene with them fleeing in a car to get over the state line so they can marry is pretty hilarious. Remember what cars were back in those days, rather tricky things and Fatty's Flivver seems to have a mind of its own.

Ironic indeed that both Arbuckle and Normand were involved in two of the biggest scandals and earliest ones in film history and both came to a premature end. Still they are funny pair to enjoy and appreciate today.

When TCM showed this recently, as picked by guest programmer John Landis, I was puzzled that Landis raved so about it.

Mabel Normand was a doll, a thoroughly likable woman, and probably the greatest female comic in early movies.

Roscoe Arbuckle was usually just a clot, surprisingly agile for one of his size, but seldom funny ... to me, anyway, but he was a big star in those early days so I guess many thousands did find him funny.

Al St. John, on the other hand, was brilliantly funny, most of the time, if he had any material at all to work with. (Supposedly he got into film just because he had nothing else to do at the time and, heck, he had an in: His uncle was the big star, Roscoe Arbuckle.)

Alas, this film gave them very little to work with.

Mabel had a couple good scenes, but mostly this movie just moved, but without any point.

You gotta see it, though, just to marvel at how comedy evolved.

Having spent months watching all the shorts with Buster Keaton and being absolutely charmed by Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle's direction, timing and "delivery", as well as regularly laughing out loud, I was so excited to see something earlier. And, wow... this was flat, boring and exactly what most people think silent movies will be: people literally jumping around, doing pratfalls and slapstick, literally kicking each other in the butt, and mugging for the camera. It's like they set up a camera and said, "Go try to do something that looks funny and we'll film it." The rampaging car was just... dumb. What a disappointment. Jump ahead to the later stuff, it's SO much better and really shows Arbuckle's charm and talents and creativity.

How strange to read that as the first title of a Keystone comedy! It's simple and human, which is not what one thinks of in the chaotic, monstrous world that Sennett supervised. Yet that is how it begins, with Mabel playing with farm animals like they are dolls, Roscoe clowning, and Mabel happy. Both of them are.

But there is always an actual story to a Keystone, and here it is: Josef Swickard is Mabel's father, and Al St. John's father holds the mortgage on the farm.... and Swickard needn't worry about it if Mabel marries St. John. And so there's poking, and kicking, and milk sprayed in peoples' eyes, and other gags of that nature. That's the thing about the shorts that Arbuckle and Normand appeared in in 1915: it was as much about the story and the characters as the gags, and the gags served to advance the story as much as make the audience laugh. Arbuckle was moving on from Sennett's simple formulas.