La belle amie de Fatty

This is a very enjoyable feature starring Roscoe Arbuckle and Mabel Normand, and its carefree slapstick style does not obscure a pretty good job of direction by Arbuckle himself. The story successfully blends some familiar elements with a couple of creative ideas, and the pacing works well, starting with an easygoing tempo and gradually building to a hilariously manic pace.

It starts with a setup that was also used in several of Arbuckle's other earlier movies, with Normand as the farmer's daughter who is in love with hired hand Roscoe, and Al St. John as the rich rival preferred by Normand's father. The first half features lots of light slapstick in the farm and farmhouse. Most of it of good quality, and it also builds up sympathy for the two main characters.

This sets up the extended chase in the second half, which is very funny and which packs a lot of good slapstick gags into a reel or so of film. Things move at breakneck speed, yet at no time does it seem out of control or pointless. It's an example of the Keystone style working at its best, with a free-wheeling feel that nevertheless must have involved good planning. The gags with the driver-less car and with the well squeeze an impressive amount of mileage out of a couple of simple ideas.

For fans of silent comedy, almost anything with Arbuckle and Normand has considerable appeal. But this is one of their most enjoyable features together.

Although the title was probably meant to be ironic, life sure does look simple for Mabel Normand and Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle in this pleasant Keystone comedy. Roscoe works on a farm owned by Mabel's father, and the two of them are secretly betrothed. Mabel, introduced by a title card simply reading "She was happy," is shown handling and kissing a calf. Roscoe, who is introduced with the phrase "Poor but honest," deals with the cattle, and rural life seems idyllic. Before long, we're offered a memorable sample of barnyard humor when Mabel squirts milk from a cow's udder through a knothole in a fence, right into Roscoe's eye. There's also an eruption of knockabout slapstick, when Roscoe has a run-in with farm hand Joe Bordeaux.

Subsequently, the trouble starts when young Mr. Jenkins, the wealthy squire's son -- an uncharacteristically dapper Al St. John -- shows up to collect the rent. Mabel's father, who drinks on the sly, offers the young man a snort, and Jenkins' reaction makes it clear that the stuff is turpentine in all but name. Once he's recovered, Jenkins conveys the news that his father would be willing to tear up the mortgage if Mabel were to marry his son, i.e. Jenkins Jr. This arrangement is perfectly acceptable to Mabel's father, but when Mabel rejects it out of hand she is locked in her room. Roscoe comes to the rescue, and the lovers have no choice but to elope in a fast car -- a car that turns out to have a mind of its own, and an ornery "personality" -- while Mabel's father, the squire's son, and the local constabulary give chase on bicycles.

Based on the outline above this may sound like just another typical Keystone comedy, but Mabel and Fatty's Simple Life stands out as an unusually sweet and charming entry by the rowdy standards of this studio, and it's also one of the most enjoyable of the many films that co-starred Mabel and Roscoe. It's easy to see why they were such a popular pair, and why some viewers assumed they were married in reality, which they weren't. They look good together, and play off each other beautifully. Their interpersonal chemistry just feels right, like such latter-day movie teams as Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers or William Powell & Myrna Loy. Here, when they kiss and Roscoe pretends to be disgusted, it looks like a spontaneous moment you might witness between a real life couple. When Mabel argues with her father, refusing to marry the squire's son and protesting "But I love Roscoe!" (it's easy to read her lips), she illustrates her preference with a gesture indicating tummy roundness, and on one level the gesture can be regarded as simplistic pantomime, yet when Mabel does it she somehow makes it real, and conveys a warmth of feeling for her beau that transcends movie play-acting of the era. By all accounts Mabel and Roscoe were genuinely fond of each other, and that comes across even when the action turns silly or frantic. They sure look like they're having fun.

For viewers who know something about the personal histories of these performers even a lightweight romp like Mabel and Fatty's Simple Life looks poignant in retrospect. This film features several close-ups of Mabel that can melt your heart, all these years later. Suffice to say, off-camera in the real world both Normand and Arbuckle would have rough roads to travel in later years, but in these high-spirited comedies of the mid-1910s time is frozen and they are forever young, healthy and successful, with seemingly bright futures ahead. He's poor but honest, and she's happy.

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.

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.

Fatty and Mabel's Simple Life (1915)

* 1/2 (out of 4)

Fatty Arbuckle and Mabel Normand wish to be married but her father promises her to another man so the two must try and find a way to run off. I gave these Fatty shirts a break last year after not really enjoying them and that trend continues this year. I'm not sure what it is but Fatty just isn't working with me and he's certainly not making me laugh. The film is just so dry that nothing really works, although there's a wonderful physical gag at the end.

Fatty's New Role (1915)

*** (out of 4)

A hobo (Fatty Arbuckle) is kicked out of a bar but the guests there decide to play a joke on the owner by saying the hobo was the notorious bomber who bombs the places he's thrown out of. This here manages to be quite funny thanks to the performances of the supporting cast who really sell the joke.