Haroldo Trepa-Trepa

This was Harold Lloyd's second Talkie but the first one I watched, since WELCOME DANGER (1929) is currently unavailable. It's a typical star vehicle and, in fact, the plot is quite similar to that of SAFETY LAST! (1923) - from the shoe-store background replacing the department store of the earlier film (hence the title) to Lloyd's attempts at impressing his girlfriend by pretending to be a wealthy businessman and, of course, its lengthy climactic shenanigans of our hero dangling from the side of a building.

Still, it's entertaining - and inventive - enough to stand on its own (even if, being so dependent on sight gags, the dialogue scenes feel awkward in comparison); the initial shoe-store segment involves Lloyd falling foul of the boss' wife, while the middle section is set aboard a sailing ship (which Harold contrives to be on along with the boss, his wife - who says she never forgets a face - and his own girl, the boss' secretary and whom Lloyd thinks is actually his daughter!)...but the genuinely hair-raising stuntwork (which, it must be said, sees no obvious repetition of the innumerable gags from the climax of SAFETY LAST!) is what really makes the film - also because it involves a lethargic black janitor (played by Willie Best, appropriately nicknamed "Sleep 'n' Eat") who, I'm afraid, wouldn't pass muster with today's PC-brainwashed audiences (especially when dubbed "Charcoal" by Lloyd himself!) and who clearly results in being more of a hindrance than a help to Harold's singularly hazardous predicament.

This was actually the star's fifth and final 'thrill' picture, which also features regular character actor Arthur Houseman invariably - and somewhat irritatingly - playing a drunkard; as for Lloyd co-star Barbara Kent, she's adequate, having already played his leading lady in WELCOME DANGER (I was also surprised to learn that she was the heroine of Hungarian director Paul Fejos' most renowned Hollywood film, LONESOME [1928], a part-Talkie which I've only managed to catch in snippets on late-night Italian TV: I did record a recent broadcast of it, presumably shown in its entirety - as the film, curiously, still bears no opening credits or any underscoring of any kind!).