Of all the countless possible subjects out there, it’s hard to think of one better suited to Hollywood than fame. Put simply, fame is what fuels Hollywood. It’s its lifeblood. Without it, the industry simply wouldn’t exist.
It therefore makes absolute sense that the topic stands amongst the most frequently visited in mainstream cinema. Like a big, expensive mirror, these are stories of fame and fortune that strike a chord with Hollywood precisely because they reflect the one thing that truly sustains it.
Whether through fictional or biopic means, the ups and downs of notoriety are an irresistible story source for studios and filmmakers alike as they simultaneously provide sobering cautionary tales, while celebrating all the usual glitz and glory of life at the top.
But, while the rise to fame is always a fun ride, let’s face it, the fall from grace is what really gets us going. It’s that point in almost every biopic when our protagonist hits the heights of their chosen profession, before those heights gradually bite back. Sometimes drugs are involved, other times alcohol, and often one’s ego gets a look in somewhere, but it’s always that low point that keeps the drama flowing and the audiences enthralled.
What happens, however, when that low has already been reached before the film begins? What if we pick up the story long after the career descent?
Sixteen years after their acrimonious split, comedy icons Stan Laurel (Steve Coogan) and Oliver Hardy (John C. Reilly) attempt to reignite their flagging film career by embarking on a gruelling tour of the UK that would ultimately become their swansong. With their heyday long behind them, Stan and Ollie must learn to reconnect with both one another and the stage they once owned, as they zigzag across post-war Britain in a desperate attempt to recapture the heart of their adoring public before time and health catch up with them.
In their time, Laurel and Hardy really were a one-off. Considering their peak came at the height of the Great Depression and the lead up to World War II, the popularity of the pair’s unique brand of humour appears to have been as welcome as it was unprecedented. Theirs was a brand of comedy that has transcended time and technology to see their popularity and influence endure almost a century after they began.
Bypassing the silent efforts of guys like Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy hit their stride with talkies in their infancy but rose to the challenge of this new cinematic era with skill and style to become the hottest act of the 30s. That was the high; however, as with almost every monumental ascent in Hollywood, an equally monumental low was unfortunately never far behind.
Few would argue that the duo’s place in Hollywood history has long since been cemented, but, while many will at least have a passing knowledge of their years in the spotlight, few will be aware of what happened when the money and the adulation dried up. It’s the kind of under-the-radar fall from grace tale that cinema was made to tell, and Stan & Ollie does this largely forgotten piece of entertainment history the justice it deserves.
A biopic as straightforward as they come, Stand & Ollie makes no attempt to rock the boat, yet, much like the comedy of its stars, the movie’s approach is a deceptively complex one. Structurally and narratively, Stan & Ollie offers very little innovation but there’s a beautiful simplicity in there that complements the story perfectly.
We know where Stan & Ollie is taking us but, much like one of their fine-tuned routines, the devil is in the detail as the film slowly but surely evolves into something far more effective than it first appears. While there are certainly layers to both the comedy and drama, Stan & Ollie’s biggest success comes from taking a leaf out of workaholic Stan Laurel’s book by sweating the small stuff.
Revelling in the double act’s renowned blend of kinetic physical and verbal humour, Stan & Ollie weaves their on-stage antics into every aspect of their off-stage life to the point that they become inseparable. Whether it’s an impeccably choreographed double door routine or their classic County Hospital sketch, the staging for each skit is perfectly executed and beautifully compliments their act away from the crowds.
Natural born performers, Laurel and Hardy just couldn’t help but turn every available moment into a mini routine and it’s in these little nuggets of impromptu humour that we really start warming to the characters for who they were – pure, unabashed entertainers. Moments like a trunk being dropped down a long flight of stairs a la Music Box are simple yet effective as they draw you into the duo’s innocent, almost child-like comedy before smacking you over the head with a hospital bedpan just when you least expect it.
For modern audiences, the slapstick, throwback humour takes a minute to acclimatise to, as the relentlessly zany antics appear somewhat naive and alien to current sensibilities but as it progresses, Stan & Ollie gradually reveals the pair’s true art in all its glory. A joke about boiled eggs and nuts may feel a little primitive at first but as it pops up again and again over the course of the film, the repetition builds a true appreciation for their craft.
Likewise, the narrative itself takes a while to get going and it’s only really as we enter the final act that all the humour, character, emotion, and themes really come together. As the jokes start to dissipate and the pair’s strained relationship comes to the fore, an emotional depth is finally revealed when we see the true strain fame had brought to their friendship, as well as the enduring bond that kept them together until the very end.
With nicely crafted long takes and perfectly staged routines, Stan & Ollie is solidly directed by Jon S. Baired but not much more than that. Preferring to let the act speak for themselves, Baired takes a step back from the action, yet goes to great lengths to inject a pleasing sense of theatricality into it all with a shooting style that brilliantly complements his stars.
Sweet, witty, and warm-hearted; the writing is a little on the nose at times but is carried with such genuinely sincerity at times that it’s hard to begrudge the film a corny line or two. Swinging from light-hearted banter to fast-paced comedy riffing, the interactions between the stars is nothing less than a delight throughout and, while it’s perhaps a stretch to describe the humour as laugh-out-loud, there’s a constant, gentle wit to Stan & Ollie that gradually envelops you in its warmth.
With the shenanigans of Stan and Ollie naturally hogging the limelight, refreshingly, some of the best lines don’t actually come from our protagonists but from their wives, Ida Kitaeva Laurel and Lucille Hardy – played wonderfully by Nina Arianda and Shirley Henderson respectively – who find themselves growing into the film as it progresses to become more than mere comedy support by the end.
Yet, as much of a group effort the film is by its conclusion, the success of Stan & Ollie rests firmly on the shoulders of its eponymous stars. Taken both on their own terms and as a set, both Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly steal the show with transformative performances that fully embrace the showmanship of their real-life characters while stepping up to the emotional responsibilities that come along with them.
Maybe it’s the look or simply the odd (although entirely accurate) accent, but it takes a little time to acclimatise to Coogan’s Stan Laurel; however, when it clicks it clicks as we’re treated to a fully-committed performance that epitomises the man’s charming, candid innocence as well as his unrelenting dedication to his work.
It’s a crucial balance to nail for such a deceptively complex personality as Stan Laurel but Coogan pitches it just right as he fully utilises his seasoned comedy chops while adding an admirable level of nuance to the character. Stan is the real heart of the piece and an emotional bedrock of the film but, as impressive as Coogan’s performance is in isolation, it’s the scene-stealing moments of interaction with his partner that really seal the deal.
No doubt grabbing all the headlines however, John C. Reilly dives head-first into the fat suit and prosthetics but there’s far more to his performance than mere makeup. As one of the finest performers in the game right now, Reilly disappears into Oliver “Babe” Hardy with an infectious enthusiasm and, much like his co-star, nimbly balances his broad, slapstick comedy with a dramatic subtlety to really dig deep into the man behind the bowler hat.
As you’d imagine, there’s barely a moment of screen time that the two are apart and this is really where Stan & Ollie comes into its own. There’s a palpable chemistry between Coogan and Reilly that can’t be faked and a lovable charm to their friendship that really lifts the film from run-of-the-mill biopic onto a whole new level.
Stan & Ollie is a film concerned as much for the power of the friendship and companionship of its central pairing as it is about tracing the ups and downs of their fame. Although it does dip its toe into the murky waters of Laurel and Hardy’s unceremonious split and their personal issues with one another, the movie ensures that it’s about far more than a shameless attempt to dig up long gone dirt.
While it can feel a little frustrating that it chooses not to delve deeper into the mechanics of Laurel and Hardy’s personal and professional relationship, what we do get is no less satisfying. As age and health rapidly catch up with them on their tour, Stan & Ollie shifts focus to become a touching, heartfelt character study on the true, enduring nature of love and friendship.
Like the exquisitely crafted door routine that makes up the film’s comedy backbone, Stan & Ollie is a thing of simplistic beauty that relies heavily on the chemistry and teamwork of its stars, exiting the stage with its head held high and the crowd on their feet. Thanks to the committed, chameleon-like performances of Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly and some superbly choreographed antics – both on-stage and off – the film overcomes the flaws in its by-the-numbers biopic approach to become the warm, light-hearted crowd-pleaser we all need for these cold, dark January days.