Ton cor est à toi

WITH THE RELEASE of this 1928 silent, the LAUREL & HARDY team was established, complete and the L & H that we all know and have loved all of our lives. The only element missing is a soundtrack; and that may well have been an additional amenity.

MANY HAVE THEORIZED that YOU'RE DARN TOOTIN' may well have planned as a sound picture. If not a true "Talkie", it probably would have had the benefit of music and sound effects. It surely is an intriguing notion and there is plenty of 'circumstantial evidence' to support this notion.

BUT, SOUNDTRACK OR not, the 2 reeler marks a very important place in the history of Laurel & Hardy; as well as the direction that was taken by the HAL ROACH STUDIO. In it we find a well meshed Stan & Ollie, fully outfitted in their trademark bowlers (that's another name for derbies, Schultz), bow tie (Laurel) and necktie (Hardy). By this time, Stan Laurel had even adopted that scraggly, high topped hairdo.

THE OVERALL LOOK of this picture is both bright and realistically staged; with the vast portion of the filming being done out of doors. It is done mainly in the streets of Culver City in suburban LA. It was there that the HAL ROACH STUDIO was situated.

AS WAS THE case in all of the Roach product at that time (and for some years before),the titles were written by H.M. Walker. It was his wit and mastery of the King's English that added a real class to the silent films of L & H, Charley Chase, early Harold Lloyd, Snub Pollard and so many other series. Mr. Walker continued on the job after the ascent of the talkies, writing dialogue as well as those great title starters that typically were characteristic of L & H sound shorts.

ANOTHER ASPECT OF the title cards utilized at this juncture was an abandonment of those which consistently relied on humor which was unrelated to the story on the screen. These included both references to the habits of the characters, as well as giving them purposely outlandish sounding names. This was a regular over at Roach's good friend as well as his rival, Mack Sennett at KEYSTONE COMEDIES.

IN ADDITION TO opting for a more subtle and clever type of title, Roach and associates moved to do things much more s-l-o-w-l-y. Instead of rapid fire stacking the gags, one on top of the other, the writers and directors would exploit the gag situationals from every different angle. Their favourite ploy of presenting physical conflicts was dubbed "Reciprocal Destruction" by Roach Studio's supervising Director, Leo McCarey.

IN IT THE combatants would alternate in doing harm to each other or to the property of the other; all the while there was no attempt by either side to prevent any of the mayhem.

IT WAS LARGELY the efforts of Mr. McCarey and Stan Laurel that established this slow, deliberate style. It was also the principal that brought Stan Laurel's screen persona that we all are so familiar with. (Just you screen a Stan Laurel comedy from before the teaming with "Babe"-as Oliver Hardy was known to his friends).

SO THAT BRINGS us to the movie itself. We have already stated our opinion that YOU'RE DARN TOOTIN' was the zenith of the L & H series and established what was basically the 'finished product.' It is non-pretentious, smoothly conceived and truly funny. Its cleverly rendered pacing along with the chain-reaction like building of the final sequence all make it a primer for doing a comedy, short or not.

AND IT IS this finale that does its best to comply with the primary rule of comedy. That being: "Always Leave 'Em Laughing" *

NOTE: * The ending of Robert Youngson's compilation tribute film LAUREL & HARDY'S LAUGHING 20s (1965) uses this comic windup for its own ending.

This is a highly entertaining Laurel and Hardy short from the silent era.

Plot In a Nutshell: Two unemployed and recently homeless musicians turn to panhandling, with disastrous results.

Why I rated it an '8': Simply put, it had me laughing or at least smiling throughout the entire 20 minutes. I don't know if any moment reaches the heights of their absolute best work, but there are plenty of funny moments here. From the band stand to the lodging house to the city streets, Laurel and Hardy bring their "A" game to this loose collection of sketches woven into a story. The highlight is unquestionably the finale, where no less than 15-20 men engage in a pants-ripping melee that will leave you in stitches. I sure was!

8/10. Would I watch again (Y/N)?: Yes, absolutely. Good stuff!

This is a first rate Laurel & Hardy comedy, a near perfect example of what they do best. I've long considered it one of their most enjoyable silent films and, for that matter, one of the best short comedies they ever made. The story follows a basic three-act structure, solidly constructed yet loose enough to allow for plenty of gags along the way. It builds steadily from the opening sequence to the wild climax, all beautifully photographed. (Ahhh, the sunny streets of Culver City!) You're Darn Tootin' is one of only two L&H comedies directed by their frequent co-star Edgar Kennedy (the other is From Soup to Nuts), and based on the results in both cases it's too bad Kennedy didn't direct Laurel & Hardy more often, as he demonstrated a real flair for their brand of comedy. The boys themselves -- who still look pretty boyish at this early stage of their career -- responded well to his direction, likely because they'd worked harmoniously as fellow performers.

Here Stan and Ollie play a pair of hapless musicians whose professional status declines sharply in the course of one disastrous day. We begin with a band concert in a public park that starts placidly but turns rowdy; we proceed to a quieter albeit amusing mid-section at the boys' boarding house, where they're behind on paying their rent; and we conclude with a grand finale of contagious shin-kicking, pants- ripping, and other harrowing acts of civic chaos, all topped with a memorable sight gag as the pay-off. The opening scene at the park is so methodically timed and builds so rhythmically you can practically hear the music, even when watching a mute print. (In the 1960s the sequence was given a nicely synchronized musical track by Robert Youngson for his compilation The Further Perils of Laurel & Hardy.) For me, the best moments often can be found in the smaller gestures rather than in the vistas of full-scale mayhem. Watch the guys' faces during the medium two-shot at the boarding house dinner table, all filmed in a single take, when Stan takes the tops off the salt and pepper shakers, uses each condiment on his soup, and then fails to replace the tops properly. Ollie falls victim to this maneuver not once but twice, first dumping too much salt into his soup and then too much pepper. We know what's coming, but somehow our anticipation of this little disaster translates into amusement. And they make it look so natural! We're amazed when Buster Keaton blithely crashes a bicycle and sails over the handlebars, but with Laurel & Hardy it's the nuances that score the biggest laughs. Nuances, such as the play of Ollie's fingers as he delicately breaks the crackers into his soup, soup that we know is about to be ruined because he's not paying attention as Stan takes the top off the pepper shaker. Ollie takes such pleasure in breaking up those crackers it borders on heart-wrenching, and he looks so crushed when his soup gets ruined, but even so, we laugh.

Everything comes to a head in the unforgettable finale, when the boys try to make a go of it as street buskers. Needless to say, they fail. And then argue, and manage to draw an alarming number of passersby into their violent quarrel. We find once again that it doesn't take much to start a major riot in Culver City. On some level I suppose I enjoy these "total warfare" sequences because they use slapstick to cheerfully confirm our worst suspicion about humanity: i.e. that just under the veneer of civilized behavior, whether disguised in the natty suits and snap-brim hats of the 1920s or the clothes of today, we're quite ready to drop all pretense of civility and clobber each other for the most stupid reasons imaginable, or for no reason at all. That's what I love about the comedy of Laurel & Hardy: their films represent society as we know it, exaggerated only slightly. Which, when you think about it, is kind of appalling.

More of a collection of loosely linked sketches than a plot, You're Darn Tootin' builds to a crescendo which finds a dozen men doing battle in the street without their trousers.

You're Darn Tootin', released in 1928, is one of Laurel & Hardy's last silent shorts. There is no high-brow humor, no Andy Kaufman what's-he-really-doing-here angst, and the closest thing to sophisticated word play comes when Stan throws Ollie's horn under a steam roller and, after trying to get the now half-inch thick instrument to toot, Ollie deadpans to the camera and a placard announces "It's flat."

You can see the fine hand of legendary comedic actor Edgar Kennedy in his direction. Kennedy's fortes – the slow burn and intricate interactions with props – are the centerpieces here, from the fiddle bow and music sheet sequence early on to the gradual acceleration from annoyance to mayhem and utter anarchy at the end.

Stan and Ollie destroy a band concert, get fired, evicted, and fight with each other and everyone else who so much as passes by. The big finale is the infamous pants-ripping scene. "You're Darn Tootin'" is pure slapstick and low-brow humor. It's also the funniest twenty minutes ever committed to film.

Warning: do not watch this film without a change of underwear available.