The Silent Clowns—Sort of (10/6/12)

The second program in the new series threw us a curve ball, as in, instead of a short followed by a feature, we had the feature followed by the short. And the feature was preceded by a “Coming Attraction” trailer for the feature next in the series. Are you still with me? Here’s the method behind the madness—and there was madness and mayhem!

In addition to the topsy-turvy programming, the feature wasn’t even a comedy. Saturday’s bill was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920) starring John Barrymore. The short was a comedy—Dr. Pyckle and Mr. Pryde (1925) starring Stan Laurel.

The Barrymore version was very interesting and very well acted. The print we were viewing had some odd tints to it, which made the viewing a little difficult. But it was really a very moving portrayal of the macabre Robert Louis Stevenson story. Apparently Barrymore insisted on “doing the first transformation scene in one long, unbroken take sans special effects,” per the program notes, and very effective it was.

In contrast, and according to the onstage program notes—yes, the co-producers actually speak and explain things to the audience before the films are shown—the short was a travesty (not parody) of the feature. Well, any program notes that send me to the dictionary are A-OK in my book. Travesty: (n) a composition that imitates or misrepresents somebody's style, usually in a humorous way. I’m thinking that the difference is that the Laurel short didn’t rewrite the original, but told the original story (and used some of the specific visual styles of the original) in a humorous way. And, boy, was it humorous! As Dr. Pyckle, Laurel was a round-bespectacled, milquetoast sort of fellow. When transformed to Mr. Pryde, we saw the characteristic goofy grin we came to know and love in the Laurel and Hardy comedies. (It reminded me a great deal of a Dick Van Dyke imitation of Stan Laurel.)

And while the transformations of John Barrymore were played to fine dramatic effect, Laurel’s transformations—and the speed at which they took place—were pure comedy.

As always, the films were presented beautifully and the hard-working team putting it all together did a great job. And, as always, I will single out Ben Model for his unflagging, enthusiastic piano accompaniments to these silent films that I’m so lucky to be able to see.

ConcertMeister
p.s. There will be some bona fide concert posts in the near future.