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.
