I fanciulli del West

WAY OUT WEST

Aspect ratio: 1.37:1

Sound format: Mono

(Black and white)

Stan and Ollie are robbed of the deed to a valuable gold mine by a couple of fortune hunters (James Finlayson and Sharon Lynn).

One of Laurel and Hardy's most fondly remembered productions, WAY OUT WEST features career-best material, including a chase around the villain's apartment ("Ah-hah!" "Oh-hoh!" "Ee-hee!"), three wonderful musical interludes, and one of cinema's most priceless set-pieces: Stan and Ollie's soft-shoe shuffle outside a saloon as the Avalon Boys sing 'At the Ball'! Director James Horne was also responsible for many of L&H's short films, and his no-frills style is eminently suited to proceedings: Every routine is reduced to its basic components, all the better to 'sell' the gags, both visual and spoken. The film opened in 1937 to a number of lukewarm reviews, but has since secured its place within movie history. A bona fide masterpiece.

NB. The Avalon Boys included prolific character actor Chill Wills among their number (he also provides Stan's 'deep voice' during 'Trail of the Lonesome Pine'), and some of the incidental music was written by Irving Berlin! Neither of these gentlemen are credited on the print itself.

"In James W. Horne's WAY OUT WEST, Laurel and Hardy go west to deliver the deed of a gold mine and promptly get themselves embroiled in duplicity and horseplay. They are perhaps the most unlikely knights in shining armor, that all depends on how feckless the villains are, James Finlayson's crooked salon owner Mickey Finn is outright cartoonish, which leaves Sharon Lynn's bejeweled salon singer Lola do the heavy lifting of manhandling Laurel with tickle torture, you can guess who is wearing the pants in that household.

WAY OUT WEST gifts audience with Laurel and Hardy's iconic synchronized dancing accompanied by the Avalon Boys, later the comical rendition of "The Trail of the Lonesome Pine", and Laurel's hat-eating, thumb-lighting gags, but its storyline is way too unremarkable to bother mentioning and the pratfall antics are deployed ad nauseam (I can imagine even the sinkhole would sigh resignedly)."

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This is truly one of the funniest movies ever made. I'll never look at another block and tackle without a chuckle. And of course that groovy soft shoe shuffle and the Trail of the Lonesome Pine are gems - cinema history. Stan and Ollie weren't just slapstick geniuses. Theirs was a subtle blend of visual, acute observational and surreal comedy that has rarely been matched and never beaten. This film exemplifies their craft perfectly and shows touches of where, twenty to forty years later, the Goons, Monty Python, Tommy Cooper and The Comic Strip were coming from. After seeing this I recommend Sons of The Dessert, their other feature length masterpiece.

As with any classic Laurel & Hardy, the plot is unimportant and just a frame on which to showcase their sweetly innocent brand of humor. Here they're trying to keep ownership of a goldmine out of the greedy clutches of a saloon owner and his blonde canary. The boys don't show up until 10 minutes into the proceedings, but from then on they are center stage with one routine after another.

Most are pretty funny, though the keep-away parlor chase goes on a shade too long as does the break-in escapade. However, when Hardy smugly revels in his superiority only to lose his outer garments and dignity to Laurel's witless bungling, we get a good look at the core of their appeal.

The comedy bits may be entertaining, but the several song and dance numbers are sublime. Notice how effortlessly the duo picks up on the hiccuping beat of the musical Avalon Boys. The resulting dance duet is among the most charming in film annals. Hardy in particular transforms from ungainly fat man into nimble blithe spirit, a beguiling triumph of grace over bulk, and more meaningful in its implications than the miles of over-produced, over- choreographed numbers from Hollywood's army of Big Musicals.

Sadly, theirs is the fey, gentle humor of an era gone by. Quite simply, there's been no one like them before or since. But at least a permanent record of their achievement remains for the rest of us who enjoy this lighthearted look at classic comedy.

There are plenty of great comedies that are better-made, more innovative, and more artistically satisfying than "Way Out West," but pound for pound this one has made me laugh the most over the years, repeatedly and consistently. Great clowns like Chaplin and Keaton made themselves into Everyman underdogs; the Marxes and Fields were wise-acre anarchists; but Laurel and Hardy were, simply, overgrown children: exactly as innocent and cunning and kind-hearted and selfish and sincere as big kids in suits. They lacked the malice which underlay Abbot & Costello or the Three Stooges. When they warred with each other or outside parties they did so from an honest sense of being wronged, which then escalated to ridiculous and dangerous heights, all with exquisite timing. Their bouts of exasperation never lasted long; as they soon as they finished stomping on each other's hats and twisting each other's noses they would go back to the unquestioning comradeship of two school-kids who stick together for no other reason than that they always have and always will.

"Way Out West" is probably their best feature film, thanks to decent production values, a fun use of the period setting, a solid supporting cast, and a great mix of visual and verbal jokes. A river hides a pothole that materializes only for Oliver Hardy; a femme fatale wrests a deed to a gold mine from a helpless Stan Laurel by a dastardly bout of tickling (few things in movies are funnier than Stan Laurel laughing); the duo perform a gracefully silly soft- shoe dance; a thumb proves mysteriously flammable and a hat becomes briefly edible; Ollie's neck stretches out at least four feet before snapping back. Death is discussed: "Tell me, what did my father die of?" Stan, ever-helpful, replies: "I think he died of a Tuesday. Or was it a Wednesday?" Songs are sung, first by Ollie, in his melodious tenor, then joined by a startlingly basso Stan. (A bop on the head changes him to a ladylike soprano.) James Finlayson makes wild puffs and snorts of disgust at the camera. And Stan's exposed leg stops a speeding stagecoach with as much ease as Claudette Colbert's stopped a truck in "It Happened One Night." And Ollie, beaming, and giggling and twiddling his tie to perfection, flirts with a highly disinterested lady by using the immortal line: "A lot of weather we've been having lately." It's all sheer bliss, a great movie comedy.