Amir Siadat
In most biographical works, specifically those that deal with a contemporary icon, right or wrong, comparisons are made between the original and substitute, which seldom work in favor of the films. Usually, the closer the character is to us in terms of time, the harder it is to deal with. No matter how much care is taken to make out the similarities, it is still difficult to believe the character on screen as Charlie Parker, Hitchcock, Pasolini, or Freddie Mercury. When the subject is an archetypal actor, everything is gambling. Predicting Attenborough's defeat in Chaplin did not require much genius. Jon S. Baird's work seems even more impossible on paper than Attenborough's project because he has to deal with two unique figures of comedy cinema at the same time. The massive failure of biographical works has repeatedly shown that clinging to physical resemblance and relying entirely on an ocean of data will never guarantee the success of the work, and even if these factors are a necessary condition (which can also be doubted), the most decisive factor is the scope and depth of the narrator's view along with his creative interpretation in dealing with the subject. A film such as At Eternitys Gate (Julian Schnabel) is exemplary in this respect. The film largely disregards the actor's resemblance to the character in question, and instead builds Van Gogh's image on an interpretation that, relies on the factor of time and the viewer's judgment of art history. The extract of this commentary can be seen in the key scene of the priest's conversation with Van Gogh. The priest in front of the camera, addressing Van Gogh - but in a sense, addressing us - asks about his paintings: "Do you really believe that God has given you the talent to paint? Please look carefully! Do you call these paintings? " Schnabel, or rather Van Gogh (the iconic figure of the artist ahead of his time), demands our judgment from this point of view, as the future witnesses. If our criterion is a cortical aspect of reality, we find the choice of Willem Dafoe for the role of the thirty-something painter to be flawed, but the truth is that this choice is perfectly consistent with Schnabel's interpretation, and the wrinkles of the middle-aged actor are first and foremost reminds us of the footprint of time. It is not far-fetched to remember Van Gogh's figure with the fragile and weak Dafoe of Schnabel's, more than, for example, angry and furious Kirk Douglas of Minnellis (despite his striking resemblance to Van Gogh). Pondering over this example is useful because it shows both the fundamental importance of the point of departure and the director's strategy for exploring the subject, and opens a key discussion of The judgment of the spectator who is aware of history", otherwise which common sense underestimates the need for physical resemblance in a film about two comedians whose companionship is based on physical conflict! In Stan & Ollie, every movement and sentence of the two main characters has one meaning for us, the "spectators who are aware of history of cinema" and another meaning for the people within the film. The two also off-stage, constantly, humbly and willingly, by playing and immersing themselves in Laurel and Hardy roles, try to create good times for everyone. Misunderstandings and misinterpretations, which are essential comic factors in Laurel and Hardy comedies, have been used in the melancholy atmosphere of Stan & Ollie to embed cold jokes that are mainly related to the actor and the role. Viewers do not understand the gags and impressions of two actors where they should (for example, the Newcastle hotel manager or Mr. Miffin's secretary), while the most serious quarrels between the two are considered ridiculous acts (Delfont's party attendees). And we - the main viewers - because of our familiarity with the unique position of the two comedians, are standing at a point where we are privileged. Our feelings are offended when we see the secretary of Mr. Miffin is staring motionless at Stan, who is making exclusive faces for her, or calling him "Mr. Lauren" several times; A part of us has put itself instead of the secretary and has been ashamed of her ignorance.
The spectator and the duality of presence and absence
Apparently, Stan & Ollie have been a reminder of Limelight to many because of
their contemplation of "the actor's relationship with the role he plays". If we look limited to the position of the famous actor, whose fame has faded in the new era and many have forgotten him, we will find the thematic similarities between the two works prominent. However, the points that significantly separate the two films are more facilitator for understanding the aesthetics of Stan & Ollie and its different relationship with the spectator. Limelight is not about Chaplin, but about his fears of losing. Andre Bazin realized the subtle point that "Chaplin's success is the truth
that contradicts Calvero's defeat" and in fact "Chaplin in art and life is Calvero whose legendary fame has never faded and at the age of sixty married to an eighteen-year-old girl named Thereza and had five beautiful children."[1]
Chaplin's real life is Calvero's dream, but what we see in Stan & Ollie fits in with the bitter story of the two actors in their old age. Moreover, limelight is made with the "presence" of Chaplin and Stan & Ollie in the "absence" of Laurel and Hardy. That presence and this absence opens a door to different perspectives in terms of the relationship between the film and the viewer. According to Bazin, it can be assumed that people who watched Limelight at the opening of Paris with Chaplin himself, had more or less the same experience as the audience at the last Calvero’s show: "Many who showed exaggerated feelings about limelight would have found it boring if it were not for the influence of public opinion".[2] In simpler terms, the presence of Chaplin was the winning card that already boost the place of the film. It is not clear whether the audience was more satisfied with the film itself or
it was the result of Chaplin's reputation (both as filmmaker and actor), so it is not clear whether the audience laughed sympathetically at Old Calvero (as agreed) or they found something really funny in this last show of his. It can be said that the "presence" of the actor has given the essence of feast to the final performance of Calvero and to the film itself. From this point of view, the viewers who accompany Laurel and Hardy's plays with relatively exaggerated laughter inside Stan & Ollie, their feelings are at odds with us -the viewers of the film - as we watch Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly in the roles of Stan and Oliver. The proximity to Stan and Oliver is ritualistic for the theater's "guests" and potentially enjoyable, while Reilly and Coogan 's portrayal may already annoy those accustomed to the image of their "beloved Laurel and Hardy," end even consider it a kind of desecration. It may seem a bit far-fetched at first glance, but among last
year's films, the closest example to Limelight is Martin Scorsese's film. In The Irishman, he wanted to test his favorite cinema with figures such as De Niro, Pesci, or Pacino, once again, before the opportunity is lost forever, even if he had to rejuvenate the actors for nearly half a century with exaggerated and revealing make-up (which actually works as wearing mask). The Irishman as a whole remains a kind of "the last show" in which all of its situations are tailored according to the physical condition of the old men (for example, they avoid showing action and sexuality, which is a relative of such cinema) in order to hold an appropriate banquet worthy of their honor. This unrealistic, alienated and artificial aesthetic, if not considered, will make the film repulsive and even ridiculous to the viewer in
lots of moments. The viewer should know that it is not only the young frank who
beats a hideous seller; In fact, the actor who plays the role of salesman has come
to greet the elderly Robert De Niro to pay his respects by being beaten by him.
If The Irishman is the bedrock of the establishment of ritual and respect, Stan & Ollie is a difficult testing ground for substitutes, during which they must become unified with the original and drown in it.
Being Laurel and Hardy
Stan Laurel never went in front of the camera or on stage without his beloved and constant companion after pairing and climaxing with Oliver Hardy. He made a covenant to which he remained faithful even after Hardy's death. He even turned down Stanley Kramer 's tempting project, Its a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, which gathered many comedy masters (from Buster Keaton to Jerry Lewis) around - even for a few seconds - to record a lasting album. So, if in Jon S. Bairds sad "romantic comedy" we see he has never been able to forgive his artistic partner for his role in Zenobia (a film which was made following the escalation of the dispute between Hal Roach and Laurel, in his absence, starring Hardy and Harry Langdon), which he calls a "betrayal", is not strange ; It is interesting to note that destiny puts him in a similar position after sixteen years: Oliver is unable to appear on stage due to his physical weakness, and Stan, at the insistence of the producer, has to move on with an alternative actor. Shortly before the show begins, a split image of him in the make-up room warns us about doubt, but encountering with Nobby Cook (the replacement actor) on the verge of entering the stage leaves no room for doubt. The filmmaker wants us to see the "scene" from Stan's point of view so that we can both taste his pain and, like him, it becomes clear to us that Cook can never replace Hardy. Apart from this, the selection of a piece from the film of County Hospital (which, ironically, its best moments - borrowed from Harold Lloyd's jokes in Safety Last! - takes place beyond the window and between the earth and the sky and is practically impossible to perform on the theater stage) is ironic for this moment. When we see Cook is frustrated with a plastered foot and is struggling, the scene becomes subjective to our eyes, and we, like Stan, interpret that struggle as a "message from Oliver" (because we know Oliver is in bed at the moment). We have already seen the analogy of this sequence with Oliver, during the filming of Zenobia: The scene adorned in the background for the presence of an elephant is related to a sequence which - in the eyes of one who has seen Zenobia - can have a symbolic connection with Oliver's situation: Although Dr. Tibbett (Hardy) is not a veterinarian, enters the stable at the urging of the showman (Langdon) to examine his sick elephant. Dr. Tibbett's reluctance to be in an unpleasant place such as the stable, and eventually his surrender, provides a compact model of Hardy's desperation and finally his acceptance of playing without Stan. Moreover, the elephant can be considered the animal embodiment of a fat doctor, and its treatment by Tibbett can be considered a mockery of Hardy, whose pretext for attending Zenobia is to repair his poor financial condition. So here, too, the scene carries moral judgment, and from Hardy's point of view it is a living nightmare of guilt. These two sequences, persuade us to make an extraordinarily common and strong-minded connection between the two actors and believe that invisible strings keep them connected at all times.
Laurel and Hardy's comedy is made up of the impossibility of the two matching with the outside world. They are children who are trying to adapt to the world of adults; Innocent, simple and unassuming, and not the wicked one like we know by Harpo Marx. Even if they do an evil deed, its either retaliatory in nature and therefore a form of childish stubbornness (the most obvious example of this is Tit for Tat), or the result of the temptations of a third person who wants to take advantage of their rawness (for example, in The Live ghost). They are not insulting or anarchist like Groucho. They want to act with etiquette and accomplish the task entrusted to them as best as possible, but they cant. Sabotage is not the will of them, but the result of their ignorance. Unlike Chaplin's tramp character, not only they are not hostile to the "system", but they are completely fascinated by the appearances and manners of the bourgeoisie, and all they want is to do something dignified and establish themselves in the system. However, because of their crudeness and childishness, they are never treated as they should be treated with respect and no one takes them seriously. As has often been said or written, they have been inspiring figures for Samuel Beckett for these very reasons. [3] While some behind the ridicules situation of Waiting for Godot`s tramps and their interactions with each other (that once were "respectable people", but now they are not allowed to climb the Eiffel Tower!), have found a variety of Laurel and Hardy comedies, others claim more detailed examples, such as Didi and Gogos playing with hats and boots, to be risen from the Hollywood pair's sediments on the Irish writer. It takes a while to find Laurel and Hardy's comedies, regardless of the apparent jokes, in moments just a few steps away from Beckett's world. One can cite the sequence of Hardy's suicide, followed by Laurel in The Flying Deuces, and determine its "logic" in relation to the scene in which Vladimir and Estragon decide to hang themselves [4], or to recall the Block-Heads in which the private Laurel has stubbornly retained the stronghold for twenty years after the war (his reaction is remarkable as long as he learns the truth with a two-decade delay: "How soon it has passes. It seems like yesterday! "). It is not possible to say with certainty whether Jeff Pope had a look at Beckett when he wrote the screenplay for Stan & Ollie, but everywhere in the film when we see two veteran actors awaiting Mr. Miffin to arrive and save them from uncertainty, Godot resonates. In the very days when Beckett wrote his play, Laurel and Hardy dreamed of making Robin Hood, but their quest to find an investor was constantly failed. It is at least interesting to note this point, if not necessary or instructive. We know Mr. Miffin only from what we hear during the film. He is always either "late" or "in the meeting" or "not yet arrived". When Stan finally enters Mifin's office, he finds himself in the middle of a "big void" and the production manager - like an alternative of the boy who appears on Didi and Gogo at the end of both acts - arrives to announce that the project has been canceled. However, there must be a Mr. Miffin so that the two actors can be happy with his "promises" and continue rehearsing. Even if it is clear to them that the Laurel and Hardy era is over and promises are nothing. It is not surprising, then, that when Stan reveals the truth to Oliver, the playful encounter quickly gives the conversation the essence of "dialogue" and returns the two - who have been banished from the paradise of the "scene" - to the "show": "I lied to you. There is no film. Miffin said the project failed. / Stan, I knew. / You knew? / Yes, I did. / Why didn't you say you knew? / Because I thought you knew that I knew. / "How did I know you knew I knew? " /[laughter] "What dialogue should I say here? " This conversation once again brings the comedy couple closer to Beckett. After all, Stan and Oliver, unlike Didi and Gogo, have the play: "If we both knew the project was canceled, then why did we continue rehearsing? / Was there something else to do? " Endangering the sick Oliver to reappear on stage highlights the idea of living with (and in) the play and, on a larger scale, perhaps reminds us that the lives of most comedy pioneers, from Keaton to Harold Lloyd, depended on the creation of an astonishing but dangerous attraction which they embraced its consequences with all their heart and soul.
Becoming Laurel and Hardy
In Stan & Ollie, the filmmaker relies on two basic strategies to position his actors as Laurel and Hardy. On the one hand, he builds his structure on an axis that - aesthetically - forms a similar situation between the couple "Coogan-Reilly" and the couple "Stan-Oliver", and on the other hand, by using themes and motifs, he tries to reach the two actors to Laurel and Hardy. The opening sequence is clever in this respect. The scene is illuminated by the image of black and hanging hats (a graphic sign of Laurel and Hardy), then retreats to show the two actors in the make-up room, in front of the mirror and behind the camera. They look like Stan and Oliver from behind, but by looking at the reflection of their faces in the mirror, we can see that we are dealing with role-playings of Reilly and Coogan. In other words, all four (and including the hats, all six) are present at the same time (Hardy's image in Laurel's mirror, and vice versa, the pair of Stan and Oliver - inseparably - are summoned on both sides of this symmetry-based frame). The two hats symbolically function as masks, and when the actors leave the make-up room wearing them, it is no longer easy to separate "Riley and Cogan", "Stan and Oliver" or "Laurel and Hardy". The year is 1937; The days of filming Way Out West and the heyday of Laurel and Hardy; The camera walks behind them, escorting them between the locker room and stage; It avoids showing their faces, except in transient cases, in order to calmly accustom us to this "Laurel and Hardy. " It is the days of reconciliation and integration, and the initial long take coincides with such days, continuous, to frame the two together in a visual area at all times. As Hal Roach (the reason of division) arrives, the image cuts for the first time, showing Oliver and Stan in separate shots; A preparation that is very straightforward should be carried over to the preamble of separation; Not just the temporary separation of Stan and Oliver, but the fact that the two were torn apart from happy days.
When we go to 1954 with Stan and Oliver, we find them in a situation that is not unlike Coogan and Reilly. Both couples are at the beginning of a difficult path that aims to unite with an ideal image: just as Coogan and Reilly try to be accepted as Stan and Oliver in our eyes, in the world of film Stan and Oliver want to be the ideal, lost image of sixteen years ago (somewhere in the movie, an old woman asks the theater ticket-seller, "Who's going to play Laurel and Hardy? ").
In addition to the the brilliant role of make-up, and the skills of Coogan and Reillys performance, and the immense energy and obsession they have devoted to imitating Stan and Oliver's manners in one side, the balance that the film has been able to strike between precision and creativity, and its intertextual connection to Laurel and Hardy's comedies has been efficient in making us accept the final result.It seems that the couple's works has been assumed an ironic reflection of their real life. Almost everything we see from Stan and Oliver has a significant and - sometimes - satirical relation to the characteristics of their roles, and the film tries to gradually tie the two actors to our memory of Laurel and Hardy through a series of references and symmetries. If in the films Hardy plays the role of an older brother for Laurel who thinks he is wiser and thinks he is more mature, in Stan & Ollie (and in reality) Stan is the mastermind, and he must take care of the "babe. " If in the films Laurel is always a rival for Hardy's wife, and Hardy is always a rival for Laurel's wife [5], in Stan & Ollie we are faced with a softened version of this situation mixed with jealousy and rivalry. According to Lucille, Oliver's wife, Stan puts too much pressure on the "babe" with the tour he has set up, and Ida, Stan's wife, believes that Oliver has damaged Stan's program with his overweight. Lucille and Ida must constantly monitor the health of their "sons"; An issue that has fueled the mother-child relationship between the two couples [6]. On the advice of Oliver's doctor, he has to put aside the show and rest, and Lucille is planning a two-way trip, unaware that, despite the advice and supervision, the "babe" will eventually go to his "playmate" (Let's say that this playmate, in addition to empathy and pleasure, has also caused anger and rage). If the two playmates in the films go beyond gender boundaries, there is a brotherly affection between them that peaks when they share Oliver's bed (a familiar motif in their films) [7]. They are so engrossed in their roles that it is as if they themselves do not know where they are Stan and Oliver, and where they are Laurel and Hardy (Oliver scolds Stan with hatred that "you have always loved Laurel and Hardy. You have never loved me"). Here, too, they pursue a kind of decent job, still far removed from what they seek, and still attached to the charm of the bourgeoisie (when Stan speaks of "Robin Hood", he ironically says "Communism means stealing from the rich and giving to the poor"). In Newcastle, they live in a third-class hotel that does not even have a waitress to carry their luggage (Oliver calls his residence "Royal Palace" when talking to Lucille! ) And they are supposed to perform on a small and petty theater (rather than the Royal Hall). This acceptance of conditions that is far below their names, goes beyond the years of their decline and marginalization. In the same opening sequence, we see that even in their best days, they are not happy about the low wages and the fact that they are not treated like Chaplin and Harold Lloyd. Hasn't the constant fusion with two inferior and lnot taken seriously cinematic characters influenced the real life of the couple actors.
When we go from the studio to the cinema at the end of the first sequence with that two-person dance in front of the camera to see the film of the same dance, we are confused for a moment in recognizing that the images on the screen are original or fake and not sure what we see is the Way Out West itself or a remake of it. Undoubtedly, the filmmaker could have used a slice of the original film (which is not an uncommon tactic) and not have bothered to reconstruct it accurately. But he made a more subtle choice so that the two actors in our eyes at the moment are Coogan and Reilly / Laurel and Hardy, and this is the translation of the process of transformation. This "Becoming laurel and hardy" during the film is strengthened and is perfected in the final sequence, which shows the last presence of two actors on stage. The final dance of Stan and Oliver is clearly symbolic and embodies spiritual harmony. It is as if with it, an ideal and lost moment is restored; It's as if the two actors go back to sixteen years ago and had a good time dancing in front of the camera of Way out West. This harmonious two-person dance is a symbol of the unity of body and soul, inside and outside, and the exaltation of the soul. In its beginning, even Lucille and Ida, who have been constantly talking to each other throughout the film (and in contrast to their husbands' physical comedy, a kind of verbal comedy is running between them), reach reconciliation and empathy. And the filmmaker wants to finish the film with this glorious moment and in the main house of the two actors - the stage. He knows that outside of this house and from now on, no happy days await Stan and Oliver [8]. Bazin called the movement of limelight`s last-minute camera, when it turns from the lifeless body of Calvero in the corridor next to the stage towards the ballerina on the stage, the translation of the phrase "theater and life goes on" and the embodiment of "reincarnation of spirits". Borrowing from him, Stan's and Oliver's last final dance can be likened to a "soul summoning" assembly. The repeated emphasis of the camera on the shadow or - why not - the ghost of the two actors tells us that Laurel and Hardy have come to this feast dancing on the stage with their substitutes.
Notes:
[1] See the chapter "The Glory of Limelight" in: Andre Bazin’s What is Cinema?, translated by Mohammad Shahba, Hermes.
[2] See the chapter "Limelight and Moliere's Death" in: Ibid. Bazin believed "Chaplin was right that the best possible advertisement for the film was his presence. What happened apparently confirms his guess".
[3] In this regard, for example, see:
- Canby, Vincent, THEATER; If Only Stan and Ollie Were Waiting, The New York Times, Dec.6, 1998
- Holmes, Danie, All Four Wear Bowlers: Didi and Gogo, Stan and Ollie, and Tragicomic Slapstick, Department of English communications at Salve Regina University
- Young, Jordan, Laurel & Hardy Meet Samuel Beckett: The Roots of Waiting for Godot (Past Times Film Close-Up Series Book 1)
[4] See: Javad Rahbar, "The Tragic Glory and Comics of Being a Couple", Film Monthly, no. 376.
[5] There are many examples: Sons of the Desert, Thicker
than Water, Their First Mistake, Blotto, Hog Wild, etc. One of the most ironic situations happen in Me and My Pal: The puzzle that Stan brings Ollie on his wedding day causes him to get late to the wedding as a result of drowning in playing the game and the wedding is ruined! Laurel and Hardy in movies usually have domineering and aggressive wives who prevent the two from meeting, but they eventually find the way to bypass obstacles and be together.
[6] Stan and Oliver, here like in their films, become little boys when it comes to their wives. Interestingly, the film does not mention the child that Laurel had - from another wife - so that his "boyhood" won’t be distorted.
[7] Sharing a single bed is the motif that can be found in many Laurel and Hardy films, including Brats, Berth Marks, Their First Mistake, Oliver the Eighth, A Chump at Oxford.
[8] A year later, all efforts to make a television series were thwarted by Stan's brain stroke and his staying at home. And less than two years later, a series of consecutive heart attacks took the life of Oliver.