Tramp, Tramp, Tramp

One of Harry Langdon's most enjoyable outings, this one gets into the plot straight away. The laughs start coming thick and fast as soon as he makes his dull-witted entrance, and they continue most heartily right up to the cyclone climax which, with all its mechanical contrivances, I thought the least funny in the movie. I feel Harry is at his best when he has minimal props to sustain him and is forced to rely heavily on his stop-and-start walk, his facial twitches and his hesitant to-and-froing to keep laughter at its height.

Langdon's style of comedic reacting needs excellent stooges and in this film he has two of the best in his entire career: Tom Murray who is beautifully set up for conflict right from the opening shot and is then brilliantly revealed not only as a ruthless landlord but as a stop-at-nothing competitor; and pushy Brooks Benedict who artfully manages one of Harry's funniest routines in the movie.

And then, of course, there's Joan Crawford. Admittedly, although she is the catalyst for Harry's cross-country sprint, she is not exactly treated as a star equal. In her key scene with Harry, her face is hidden by her cloche hat. But nonetheless, she's in there swinging.

Superbly enhanced by some of the most beautiful tints ever presented on the screen, this movie is a visual delight from first to last.