Stan & Ollie

As a bit of a comedy nerd, I was so so excited to see Stan and Ollie. It’s the story of Laurel and Hardy (played by Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly) from about 1937 to 1953 – the bulk of the story takes place long after the heyday of their motion pictures and focuses on a European “comeback tour” they mounted in the early ‘50s in an effort to drum up interest for them to start making movies again. Their partnership had faltered after the dissolution of their motion picture contract, and this tour was the chance for them to get to know each other and become true partners again. Do they succeed? Well…

Like all the best love stories, the film digs deep into the relationship and the obstacles they have to overcome in order to stay together. It’s a tender and thorough character study of one of the most beloved entertainment acts in American history and it was a truly beautiful experience to watch.

Some thoughts:

• There is a loooong walk-and-talk steadicam shot through the studio at the very beginning that is just fantastic. It gives such a rich glimpse of the world within the studio system, and all the different kinds of pictures being made all within feet of each other. God, I’m a slut for old Hollywood narratives.
  
• Laurel and Hardy were such comedic geniuses, it’s easy to forget the work they put into their craft. One thing that struck me – did they do bits literally everywhere they went? When you’re as quick as they are and have that easy rhythm, it appears as easy as breathing. As the film goes on, though, it seems they might actually be trapped inside the roles they’re performing. It’s as if their whole lives have become a bit, because they’re each only seen as a counterpoint to the other person. Never as individuals, but as one half of a pair, incomplete without the other. The sense of loneliness and isolation that clearly enveloped them both in these intervening 12 years is never made explicit, but is acutely felt.
  
• It’s so weird to see certain actors or actresses in roles when they’re known for one iconic thing. I can suspend disbelief with the best of them, but seeing Moaning Myrtle as Hardy’s wife is a fucking trip, man.
  
• Speaking of, the wives (Shirley Henderson and Nina Arianda) are a delightful duo on their own. They couldn’t be more different, but they both love and are protective of their husbands, and their oil-and-water dynamic is a delight to watch, especially in the rare moments in which they find themselves on the same side of an argument. I would watch their comedy duo routine just as happily as I would some of Laurel and Hardy’s best stuff.
  
• I can’t believe Hardy betrayed Laurel in this way – and the fact that, even 12 years later, their chemistry is still off-the-charts. It’s a testament to their bond and to Reilly and Coogan’s performances to sell all these overlapping, nuanced emotions.
  
• The performances are the heart of the film, and boy, do they deliver. Reilly is fantastic as Hardy, lending a worn physicality to everything he does offstage, and an unbelievable light on his feet bounciness to all his actions onstage. And Coogan is eerily, uncannily able to channel Laurel’s facial expressions and movements in small, mimed bits that he performs usually for an audience of one. The receptionist in a waiting room, or the waiter at a restaurant – no audience is too small for his rubber-faced moments of silly physical comedy.
  
• Jeff Pope and A.J. Marriot’s script is fantastic at a slow build of tension leading to an inevitable confrontation between the two partners that airs years of grievances and slights in an explosion of accusations and bitter confessions. It’s rare to see male friendships depicted onscreen this way, just as fraught and deeply felt as a romance, and all the elements come together perfectly to make this friendship feel as deep and intimate as the truest romantic love story. I would love to see more films treat friendship in this way.
  
• I will point out one flat note in an otherwise lovely symphony – there was an incredibly lazy man-in-a-dress type transphobic joke that I recognize would be part of the comedy landscape of the time. BUT, the makers of this film could have easily substituted a different historically appropriate joke in its place, or just cut that one line entirely without it affecting the film at all. It was not vital to a scene or a character’s development – it was a throwaway line in an otherwise gorgeous movie that felt cheap and gross. Just a reminder that these choices may seem small but they can have a huge impact on the audience’s ability to lose themselves in the story.
  
• On this episode of Did I Cry? The answer is a resounding yes, primarily during the final 15 minutes of the movie. Just one continuous weep for the power of friendship.
  

Even if you don’t know much about the history of comedy or Laurel and Hardy, Stan and Ollie is a lovely time at the movies that reminds you of the magic of motion pictures and the power they have to change lives. More than that, it’s a movie that will make you feel deeply and laugh easily, and I can’t think of a better reason to see a film.