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 <email@example.com>
Come and See the Enormous Giant, 8ft. 9in. high, who helps Harold Quell a Revolution in Six reels of the cleverest and funniest humor imaginable. (Print Ad-The News,(( Hobart, Tasmania)) 15 August 1925) See more »
Per the terms of the 1988 Copyright Term Extension Act, this film officially entered the public domain on January 1, 2019. See more »
When Harold shots the cannon on Colosso's back at the raft on the river, a bag containing the explosives hanging on a wire across the river is briefly visible before it detonates. In a following shot, the bag containing explosives on the side of the bridge deck is also briefly visible before it goes off. Still later the same scenario occurs when Harold accidentally shoots the hen-house with Pipps inside - the bag is visible above the ground with a wire running from it off to the right. Wires are also visible that are attached to the hen-house to pull it apart when the explosion happens. See more »
Was it Shakespeare or Will Rogers who once said - "A man knoweth not the full joy of responsibility until it leapeth upon him."
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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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