Those beloved men. The thin one and the fat one. Laurel and Hardy. ‘The Boys’.
It would be difficult to overstate either the legacy or enduring appeal of comedians Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. They were, for a time, the biggest movie stars in the world, and, even today, more than half a century after their deaths, remain one of the most iconic double acts in history.
Setting aside their impressive solo careers, Laurel and Hardy’s 30-year partnership boasted an extraordinary 32 short silent films, 40 short sound films and 23 full-length features. Together, they either invented or perfected the entire arsenal of pantomimic mannerisms (the clumsy falls, exaggerated face slaps, goofy hat tips, fourth-wall looks to camera, blinking eyes and bow-tie twiddles), yet what truly underscored their every performance and defined their remarkable relationship, both on and off screen, was a magical, irreplaceable chemistry.
Their films sparkled because of it, their interactions with fans and the press oozed with it and their affection towards one another, even throughout their roughest days (captured with loving dedication in the new film Stan & Ollie), ultimately proved unbreakable because of the enduring love they shared for one another.
By the time they embarked upon an ill-fated stage tour of the British Isles in 1953, their star power had faded, their health was in decline and the tensions that had simmered for a decade beneath the surface came to a head with a vengeance. They found themselves playing to half-empty theatres, staying in run-down hotels and constantly reassuring fans they hadn’t, in fact, retired. That chemistry, though, was undeniable. Irrepressible. Infectious. As audiences rediscovered their love for the duo, so too did the men beneath the bowlers, rekindling a love and respect for one another that would remain strong until their historic final performances together.
An unconventional biopic
Laurel and Hardy were the act, the brand, the public face of the duo known and loved around the world. Stan and Ollie, by contrast, were the men behind the facade; the very real and very human side to the equation, as flawed as their characters but in ways that didn’t automatically heal as soon as the director called ‘cut’. Hardy may have been prone to whacking Laurel with a mallet, but when he shot the infamous ‘elephant movie’ Zenobia in 1939 without Laurel by his side, it wounded his friend in ways that almost ended the relationship forever.
That grievance underscores the story of Stan & Ollie, set during the 1953 UK concert hall tour. It’s a far cry from the traditional biopic, eschewing a thorough retelling of its stars’ life stories in favour of capturing, with precise detail, one small but telling passage of time in the lives and careers of these two men. For Steve Coogan, whose portrayal of Laurel in the film is a note-perfect impersonation, that focus allowed for a far more intimate and telling portrait of the duo.
“The mistake is often to try and do a biography where you tell the chronological story of someone’s life,” he says.
“It’s better to shine a light on a specific aspect and you can learn everything from that. You can see humanity in a moment.”
It’s a sentiment echoed by his co-star, John C Reilly, who praised the film for transcending the facts about Laurel and Hardy to focus instead on universal truths about the way human beings relate to each other. In that sense, Stan & Ollie is, first and foremost, a tale of friendship rather than of fame and the slow fade away from it. It’s a love story, examining what it means to be two best friends at the end of your life, without being aware it’s the end of your life.
A legacy of laughter
The ‘D’oh!’ of Homer in The Simpsons. The turns-to-camera by Martin Freeman in The Office. The bickering, bonking and befuddlement of R2-D2 and C-3PO in Star Wars. Matt Lucas claims he always thought of the pair as friends. Samuel Beckett revered them so fervently it’s thought they inspired Waiting for Godot. Ricky Gervais insists “everything I’ve done I’ve stolen from them”. For JD Salinger they were “two heaven-sent artists and men”. Laurel and Hardy’s comedy legacy is as profound as it is wide-ranging, informing not just the generations of comedians who followed, but also countless writers, artists and musicians. Their comedy wasn’t only universal, it was elegant and enduring on a scale rarely matched.
“Comedy itself is an incredibly powerful thing,” Coogan says. “To be able to unite people of different points of view and different creeds and religions in a moment when they all laugh together is something that should never be underestimated.”
Stan & Ollie pays tribute to that power, ensuring fans and newcomers alike will feel at once rewarded and enchanted by the experience.
Stan & Ollie’s writer, Jeff Pope, offers a beautiful postscript to the film that bears repeating here. Hardy died at the age of 65 on 7 August 1957. Laurel, eight years later. In the interim, Laurel received countless offers to partner with other actors but declined every one of them, and, in the most touching of tributes to his beloved friend and colleague, continued to write Laurel and Hardy material despite knowing it would never be performed. They were one of a kind, and Laurel wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Stan & Ollie is in Australian cinemas on February 21.
