Just like the peerless cinematic double act Laurel & Hardy were, the film ‘STAN & OLLIE’ (Dir Jon S. Baird, 97 minutes), is a suitably engaging and well-drawn account of a bittersweet episode from late in their career.
The film begins in Hollywood sometime in 1937 with the duo at the height of their artistic and earning capabilities. But away from the cameras Stan (Steve Coogan) and Ollie (John C. Reilly) – both of whom deliver deft, nuanced performances of the highest order – are wracked by matrimonial and monetary troubles, that have brought Stan Laurel in particular into conflict with co-producer Hal Roach (Danny Huston, in a sharp and feisty cameo). As the battle of wills intensifies Laurel becomes ever more militant in his quest to secure improved financial reward and greater control of their work, aimed at placing them on par with ‘Charlie, Buster and Harold,’
Ultimately Roach and the studio have better cards to play and refuse to meet the demands, their upper hand secured by exploiting a contractual discrepancy between the pair – which still rankles with Stan when the story begins in earnest on a tour of Great Britain in 1953.
Yet this is no grand celebratory affair based on enduring popularity. Sixteen years on from their halcyon days, the once undisputed Kings of Comedy are reduced to playing modest venues which they are unable to fill and staying in third rate accommodation. Much time has elapsed since Laurel & Hardy made a film, let alone a successful one, usurped long ago at the box office by Abbott and Costello and a young British act called Norman Wisdom, who is also managed by tour promoter Bernard Delfont – played with lashings of smarm and slipperiness by Rufus Jones.
As they move from one disheartening night to the next on a gruelling schedule of small provincial theatre dates, the light at the end of the tunnel is the promise of finance for a new Laurel & Hardy film Stan is writing while they traipse from town to town. But the London production company who have expressed interest in funding the project (a spoof of the Robin Hood story) become increasingly evasive, Laurel continuing to write proposed scenes even after he learns the film will not be happening, news he withholds from Hardy (known to those close to him as ‘Babe’) whose poor health is being exacerbated by the daily grind of travelling and performing.
By the time the tour reaches London audience numbers have begun to increase with their outlook as individuals becoming brighter with arrival of their wives, which gives the film a timely upward shift in gear. Cue two excellent supporting turns from Shirley Henderson (Lucille Hardy) and Nina Arianda (Ida Laurel) – Lucille is redoubtable in her support of ‘Babe’ and although Ira can be cutting and dismissive, she is no less protective of her Stanley, the spouses themselves bordering on a double act.
Up to this point the interplay between Stan and Ollie has been quietly endearing rather than openly affectionate, the dark corner of their relationship not encroached upon until a post-show reception at The Savoy. What begins as a few tired and tactless remarks becomes a public, no holds barred airing of grievances – Stan finally expressing his fury that Ollie weakened their bargaining position against Roach all those years ago by refusing to join him in walking out of their contract with Fox (Hardy staying to do the 1939 film ‘Zenobia’ without Stan). ‘I loved us,’ barks Stan, to which Ollie responds with the most emotive line in the film: ‘But you never loved me.’
The scene is given ever greater emotional gravitas when an on-looker mistakes the pointed exchange as a comic sketch, asking: ‘Was that funny?’
Eventually they reconcile but in keeping with the rest of this delightful film the poignancy is never blurred by sentimentality, director Baird always staying on the right side of that line between melancholy and mawkishness. Praise is also due for the fine period detail of 1953 England, with the excellent script based on the 1993 book by AJ Marriott (‘Laurel & Hardy – The British Tours). For anyone else bitten by the Laurel & Hardy bug on leaving the cinema, highly recommended also is the 2017 John Connolly novel ‘He’ – a hard to put down reimagining of the life of Stan Laurel.
Early in ‘Stan & Ollie,’ and at the moment his anger with Roach comes to boiling point, Stan taunts him with, ‘You can’t have Hardy without Laurel,’ which, of course, is true – a fact borne out by the wonderful way Baird and his two main cast members recreate not only the physical and verbal mannerisms of Laurel & Hardy when they engage as performers, but also with the virtuosity shown in re-enacting some of their best known routines.
This is a joyous, subtle and very often absorbing piece of film-making – it does Laurel & Hardy justice and that is no mean feat.
NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of MONTY’S DOUBLE – an acclaimed thriller now available as an Amazon Kindle Book.