Stan & Ollie Review – Melancholic Dusk of the Laurel and Hardy Comedy Gods | Movie

This sweet and sad film is about a last little-known chapter in the life of comedy legends, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. In 1952, at a low point professionally, old-fashioned in the United States, their relationship being stressed and in need of money, they began a British tour, sometimes to an extremely small audience. We recently had film stars in Liverpool, telling the story of Gloria Grahame's theatrical engagements in England. Well, movie stars were dying night after night in Newcastle, Glasgow and Worthing. Jon S Baird's feature film seems to confuse the tour with the winter mood of recent UK tours, when Stan's and Ollie's concerns about health and career got worse. He has a persuasive sense for this twilight of the gods of comedy.

Steve Coogan and John C Reilly give great performances of Laurel and Hardy. These portraits are detailed and closely watched love works, especially since Coogan and Reilly had to nail the characters on the screen and make a more subtle and naturalistic account for off-stage versions. It is usual for critics to talk about performances going beyond the "mere" imitation, as if the imitation at this level was easy or had nothing to do with the actor's play . But these are brilliant personifications, of the kind that can only be achieved by exceptionally intelligent actors; the superb technique of the two matches their obvious love for the originals.

My reservation is that there is something that sometimes lacks power and class in the nostalgic sweet melancholy of the film. Director Baird and screenwriter Jeff Pope offer interesting information on the subject of celebrity. Their film shows the boys at their peak of the 1930s, making films for the Hal Roach tester, played by Danny Huston. They look like modest, unpretentious people doing professional work. At the time and in their decline, when they wander among the mortals – machinists, technicians, members of the public – there are no shots of panting, stupefied people, taking double turns and trying to siphon some of their celebrity case in the age of selfie / social media. And Laurel and Hardy went beyond the banal notion of celebrities, even the idea of ​​stars. They were titans. The fact that they are largely unnoticed in the boring old rainy streets of Britain is a sad sign of their decline. Yet at that time, even the most renowned could walk in public relatively unmolested.

Stan and Ollie accept, with a lack of godly patience, the meager theatrical digs, the second division theaters, the miserable weather and the fact that their British producer, Bernard Delfont (Rufus Jones) seems more excited by a new client named Norman Wisdom. Having been prompted to do more difficult promotion work, without more money, the counter resumes. But things are not necessarily easier because their wives come to England to be with them: the protector Lucille Hardy (Shirley Henderson) and the imperious and arrogant ex-Russian dancer, Ida Laurel (Nina Arianda) who act almost like the id for every man, sullenly expressing the secret resentments bubbling in Stan's and Ollie's heads, but that they politely guard one another. An attack by Ida – about Ollie's disloyalty in shooting a film without Stan – sparked a furious and painful argument.

There is a beautiful scene in which Stan must visit Ollie after his larger-than-life partner has suffered a mild heart attack. It's a strange echo of their famous "Hospital Visit" sketch, which they played hard during their tour – and which is indeed very funny. I found myself laughing, almost as I would have done with the original. Both men are intensely aware of the ironic echo and this makes them reserved, withdrawn. There is a muted charm in this scene and a muted charm in the movie in general.