Here is an enjoyable, inventive and amusing silent comedy that gets funnier as it goes along, and ends on a high note. If only Billy West had made more films like this one he might be remembered as one of the best second-tier comics of his day, alongside the likes of Lloyd Hamilton or Monty Banks. Instead, he's remembered as a counterfeit, though a very good one: West was a Charlie Chaplin impersonator, a copycat who cranked out more than twenty-five comedies in which he applied his talent to blatant imitation. In the films he made from 1917 to 1920 West did his best to dress, look and act exactly like the most popular comedian of the era. He stole plots and gags from Chaplin, and surrounded himself with actors who impersonated Chaplin's supporting players; he even employed one actor, Leo White, who had worked with the real Chaplin in his Essanay and Mutual comedies. Underneath the borrowed persona Billy was clearly a gifted performer in his own right, but being known as the top Chaplin impersonator in the movies wasn't exactly something to be proud of. West stopped disguising himself as the Little Tramp along about 1920, and thereafter attempted to create an original comic character in a new series of comedies. Don't Be Foolish survives as an entertaining example of what the guy could do once he decided to be himself.
Frankly, the opening sequence isn't all that promising, and even suggests that this movie may be just another carbon copy: it's set in a park, like so many of Chaplin's early films, and although Billy no longer dresses like Charlie -- he now wears a natty suit and a straw boater, and sports a "normal" mustache -- he still behaves like him. Although Billy is smartly dressed he's hanging around in the park like someone with nothing better to do, eating a banana and flinging the peels despite a nearby No Littering sign. (The sign actually says "Drop No Rubbish," which is kind of funny in itself.) Soon Billy's littering gets him in trouble with a couple of cops, and as the movie rolls along he gets in deeper, and makes an enemy of one big cop in particular who becomes determined to bust him. Our hero also gets involved with two women. One is a conventionally attractive young lady, while the other is Frank Hayes in drag. Hayes was a veteran of the Keystone Studio, a skinny, toothless man with the face of a goblin who could provoke laughter just by showing up. Hayes often played farmers, but occasionally he would put on a dress and play an incredibly homely woman. His character in this film, Lydia Pinkham, is named after a once-familiar medicinal product for women, the equivalent of today's Midol; evidence that vulgar gags are nothing new. Billy's reaction when he first sees Lydia -- an expertly executed backward roll -- is practically worth the price of admission in itself. Anyhow, for the balance of the movie Billy alternates between trying to court the pretty woman while avoiding Lydia, while also trying to outrun that determined cop from the park, and things get pretty frantic. One of the best sequences occurs when the big cop corners Billy in Lydia's apartment, and Billy starts striding back and forth, faster and faster; the cop does so too, in step with Billy, and before you know it they're literally dancing around the room together. It's the sort of maneuver Bugs Bunny would pull on Yosemite Sam, cartoon-y and dreamlike. And funny!
(Incidentally, the big cop is portrayed by Tom Murray, who went on to play a couple of memorable supporting roles opposite -- you guessed it -- Charlie Chaplin, as the kindly Sheriff in The Pilgrim, and villain Black Larsen in The Gold Rush.)
By the time this film is over you may have an entirely different attitude towards Billy West. Don't Be Foolish boasts clever gags, a good supporting cast and impressive cinematography, but the real revelation here is the leading man. Here, he proves he wasn't just a pseudo-Chaplin, he was a talented comedian who struggled to find a persona of his own. I don't know how many more of West's "post Charlie" movies survive, or if any of the others are as good as this one, but I wouldn't mind seeing more of his work.
Frankly, the opening sequence isn't all that promising, and even suggests that this movie may be just another carbon copy: it's set in a park, like so many of Chaplin's early films, and although Billy no longer dresses like Charlie -- he now wears a natty suit and a straw boater, and sports a "normal" mustache -- he still behaves like him. Although Billy is smartly dressed he's hanging around in the park like someone with nothing better to do, eating a banana and flinging the peels despite a nearby No Littering sign. (The sign actually says "Drop No Rubbish," which is kind of funny in itself.) Soon Billy's littering gets him in trouble with a couple of cops, and as the movie rolls along he gets in deeper, and makes an enemy of one big cop in particular who becomes determined to bust him. Our hero also gets involved with two women. One is a conventionally attractive young lady, while the other is Frank Hayes in drag. Hayes was a veteran of the Keystone Studio, a skinny, toothless man with the face of a goblin who could provoke laughter just by showing up. Hayes often played farmers, but occasionally he would put on a dress and play an incredibly homely woman. His character in this film, Lydia Pinkham, is named after a once-familiar medicinal product for women, the equivalent of today's Midol; evidence that vulgar gags are nothing new. Billy's reaction when he first sees Lydia -- an expertly executed backward roll -- is practically worth the price of admission in itself. Anyhow, for the balance of the movie Billy alternates between trying to court the pretty woman while avoiding Lydia, while also trying to outrun that determined cop from the park, and things get pretty frantic. One of the best sequences occurs when the big cop corners Billy in Lydia's apartment, and Billy starts striding back and forth, faster and faster; the cop does so too, in step with Billy, and before you know it they're literally dancing around the room together. It's the sort of maneuver Bugs Bunny would pull on Yosemite Sam, cartoon-y and dreamlike. And funny!
(Incidentally, the big cop is portrayed by Tom Murray, who went on to play a couple of memorable supporting roles opposite -- you guessed it -- Charlie Chaplin, as the kindly Sheriff in The Pilgrim, and villain Black Larsen in The Gold Rush.)
By the time this film is over you may have an entirely different attitude towards Billy West. Don't Be Foolish boasts clever gags, a good supporting cast and impressive cinematography, but the real revelation here is the leading man. Here, he proves he wasn't just a pseudo-Chaplin, he was a talented comedian who struggled to find a persona of his own. I don't know how many more of West's "post Charlie" movies survive, or if any of the others are as good as this one, but I wouldn't mind seeing more of his work.
