Ducts soup
'The Nut' is entertaining enough, yet the elements never cohere. First, the good news: we get quite a bit of Douglas Fairbanks's trademark acrobatics. During the climactic sequence, he and Marguerite De La Motte (the latter partly stunt-doubled) clamber about inside a furnace boiler and its heating ducts -- good job this movie seems to take place in summer! -- and there's some clever double-exposure photography to give us a cutaway view of the two of them inside the ducts.
Unfortunately, 'The Nut' can't quite figure out what sort of film it wants to be. In the opening, Fairbanks is a crackpot inventor. We see him rousted out of bed by his own inventions: a series of Heath Robinson contraptions that end with Fairbanks bathed, showered and fully dressed. I was impressed by a strategic title card at the crucial moment when Fairbanks would have been seen naked. But what's all this cleverness in aid of? Parts of 'The Nut' are quite realistic; other parts are unrealistic but have some good screwball humour ... whilst other sections are neither realistic nor funny.
De La Motte plays a socialite who has some weird theory about letting slum children spend a few minutes each day in posh houses ... so that they'll be better citizens when they're whisked back to the slums afterwards, apparently. As the chief villain, William Lowery gives a good performance in a badly-written role. This is one of those movies in which the villain is willing to break a whole bunch of laws in order to seduce one particular woman (even though he has access to other women) for no discernible reason except to provide a conflict for the hero. There's also a supernatural running gag here, with villain Lowery phoning the heroine via a switchboard operated by the Devil in Hell, whilst Fairbanks phones the same lady via a switchboard staffed by Cupid. The heroine favours a white candlestick telephone which she keeps in its own weird little table kiosk: were ladies in 1921 unwilling to display their telephones?
The notorious Barbara La Marr is on screen briefly, but is given little to do. In a title card, she describes De La Motte as having 'yellow hair', but De La Motte photographs as brunette here. Mary Pickford turns up as a dress extra during the charity party sequence, yet her presence is so strong that I spotted her instantly. In the same sequence, aye, that's the real Charlie Chaplin briefly seen as a Chaplin impersonator.
In addition to his acrobatics, Fairbanks has a funny bit after he's stripped to his underwear in the street. Using a knife that he apparently keeps in his BVDs, Doug slices the two- dimensional pasteboard clothing off a conveniently life-sized male figure on a nearby billboard, then he 'wears' this back to his Greenwich Village home. (Not that this movie's exterior sets remotely resemble Greenwich Village of the 1920s, mind you.) I laughed heartily at a gag sequence in which Fairbanks pretends to be a corpse on a gurney. My rating: 7 out of 10.
Unfortunately, 'The Nut' can't quite figure out what sort of film it wants to be. In the opening, Fairbanks is a crackpot inventor. We see him rousted out of bed by his own inventions: a series of Heath Robinson contraptions that end with Fairbanks bathed, showered and fully dressed. I was impressed by a strategic title card at the crucial moment when Fairbanks would have been seen naked. But what's all this cleverness in aid of? Parts of 'The Nut' are quite realistic; other parts are unrealistic but have some good screwball humour ... whilst other sections are neither realistic nor funny.
De La Motte plays a socialite who has some weird theory about letting slum children spend a few minutes each day in posh houses ... so that they'll be better citizens when they're whisked back to the slums afterwards, apparently. As the chief villain, William Lowery gives a good performance in a badly-written role. This is one of those movies in which the villain is willing to break a whole bunch of laws in order to seduce one particular woman (even though he has access to other women) for no discernible reason except to provide a conflict for the hero. There's also a supernatural running gag here, with villain Lowery phoning the heroine via a switchboard operated by the Devil in Hell, whilst Fairbanks phones the same lady via a switchboard staffed by Cupid. The heroine favours a white candlestick telephone which she keeps in its own weird little table kiosk: were ladies in 1921 unwilling to display their telephones?
The notorious Barbara La Marr is on screen briefly, but is given little to do. In a title card, she describes De La Motte as having 'yellow hair', but De La Motte photographs as brunette here. Mary Pickford turns up as a dress extra during the charity party sequence, yet her presence is so strong that I spotted her instantly. In the same sequence, aye, that's the real Charlie Chaplin briefly seen as a Chaplin impersonator.
In addition to his acrobatics, Fairbanks has a funny bit after he's stripped to his underwear in the street. Using a knife that he apparently keeps in his BVDs, Doug slices the two- dimensional pasteboard clothing off a conveniently life-sized male figure on a nearby billboard, then he 'wears' this back to his Greenwich Village home. (Not that this movie's exterior sets remotely resemble Greenwich Village of the 1920s, mind you.) I laughed heartily at a gag sequence in which Fairbanks pretends to be a corpse on a gurney. My rating: 7 out of 10.
- F Gwynplaine MacIntyre
- Jan 3, 2009