"Speedy" loses his job as a soda-jerk, then spends the day with his girl at Coney Island. He then becomes a cab driver and delivers Babe Ruth to Yankee Stadium, where he stays to see the ... See full summary »
Harold Hall, an accident prone young man with little or no acting ability, desperately wants to be in pictures. After a mix-up with his application photograph, he gets an offer to have a ... See full summary »
Gwen's family is rich, but her parents ignore her and most of the servants push her around, so she is lonely and unhappy. Her father is concerned only with making money, and her mother ... See full summary »
Harold Van Pelham (Lloyd) is a hypochondriac, rich businessman who sails to the tropics for his 'health.' Instead of the peace and seclusion he is seeking, he finds himself in the middle of a revolution. He is imprisoned where he befriends the friendly giant, Colosso (Aasen), and they engineer an escape. Together, they quell the revolution. Written by
Herman Seifer <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Ringling Brothers circus giant Cardiff Giant (aka George Auger) was contracted to play the role of Colosso, but died shortly after filming began. A nationwide publicity campaign was instituted to find a replacement. Norwegian John Aasen, living in Minnesota, was discovered as a result of a newspaper article about his shoe size. See more »
The chalk marking Harold makes for the spare in bowling changes. See more »
The most lively of Harold Lloyd's classic comedies is arguably his most accessible when seen today, and can now be enjoyed without the indiscriminate editing and idiot soundtrack added by Time-Life Films in the early 1960s. Of all his silent features it's the least rooted in the ideals of its age, employing an element of fantasy quite out of character from his usually plausible boy-next-door scenarios. Adopting one of his popular idle, young millionaire roles, Lloyd stars as a wealthy hypochondriac on vacation in South America, thwarting a military coup with the help of his loyal nurse and a gentle (but formidable) giant. It's a measure of Lloyd's appeal that he could be so inventive without seeming at all out of the ordinary in the manner of Keaton or Chaplin. His innocence and vigor allowed him to milk an amazing amount of humor from any one gag (curing the giant's toothache, for example), building each laugh with an escalating but practical absurdity rarely possible outside of silent film comedy.
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