The Strong Man

The peculiar talents of Harry Langdon are displayed to their fullest advantage in the baby-faced clown's best silent feature. Seen today, it's certainly the most accessible of his few surviving films, but Langdon's curious, childlike habits and demeanor, so totally bizarre in a character meant to be a functioning adult, may still leave many viewers scratching their head. The success of this particular film can be credited, in part, to director Frank Capra, who had the patience to nurture Langdon's unique pantomime skills, using long, extended takes in which the comedian could freely improvise. Capra's pious sentimentality can be cloying (the story involves a wholesome small town rescued from gamblers and bootleggers), but he gave Langdon all the elbow room the comedian needed to work his innocent, uncertain magic. Playing the hapless assistant to a vaudeville strong man, Langdon responded with more than one unforgettable routine, proving himself the equal to his better remembered peers in the art of silent comedy.

I must respond to Bob Pr.'s comments below - I can't let such a slander against Frank Capra go unchallenged. :)

******** Quoting Bob's Review: Frank Capra was the director and I understand from our discussion that Capra's autobiography thoroughly "dissed" Harry, apparently in revenge for Harry having fired the young Capra from directing any more of his films. The two originally had been close until that point but had frosty relations after. Our discussion leader said many people are now beginning to re-evaluate Capra's revengeful pique, the significance of Langdon's contribution, and appreciate him much more. *********

Wow, I really didn't get that sense from Capra's autobiography at all. Capra praised Langdon's talent very highly, saying he was as brilliant as Chaplin etc. The thing is, according to Capra, Langdon didn't really understand what made him (Langdon) so special and wanted to BE more LIKE Chaplin, instead of being himself and being equally great in his OWN way. Apparently Langdon didn't "get" the character that Capra helped to create, the persona that was so beloved by the public. Like many people, he wanted to be something he was not.

Capra claims that Langdon let stardom go to his head once the films they made together became big hits. That Harry started taking all the credit, not acknowledging (and actively insulting) Capra and the others who had helped him along the way. That's not so very hard to believe - success/fame (especially if it comes all at once) tends to affect most people this way and swell their heads. Capra tried to warn him about the swelled head and bring him back down to earth, and was fired. Too bad Harry lacked humility and succumbed to typical Hollywood Diva behavior (my words, NOT Capra's.)

If you want to cast Frank Capra as the Villain here, because you find it hard to believe that someone as guileless and innocent on-screen, as Langdon appeared to be, could be an ambitious and egotistical jerk in real life (again, MY interpretation, not quoting Capra here!)...well, that only proves Harry's abilities as an ACTOR, eh?

I recommend reading Frank Capra's book for yourself, instead of relying on second-hand information. I'm sure you'll see the genuine sorrow he felt after Langdon proved he *couldn't* do it all on his own, the quality of his films dropping fast when Capra was no longer involved. If you doubt how important Capra was in their partnership, ask yourself: after they stopped working together, which of the two continued to achieve greater and greater success, and whose film quality & career went to the dogs? Langdon obviously needed Capra more than Capra needed Langdon.

I really believe Frank Capra was heartbroken over the way things turned out, and about Langdon's wasted potential. It didn't seem to me he took any vengeful pleasure in seeing Harry fail and fall into obscurity. There's one particular anecdote Capra remembers - passing by the set of one of Langdon's later films, where the director was treating him like crap and clearly didn't understand Harry's strengths as a performer, trying to make him do things that just didn't come naturally to him (ironic since Harry had previously wanted to be like other comics). I wouldn't have blamed Capra if he HAD gloated a bit in his autobiography, but instead he sounded upset about this incident.

Personally I don't have as much sympathy for Harry as Frank seemed to - Harry treated "the little people" (behind the scenes writers & directors) like dirt, and made the decision to turn his back on those people he should've been grateful to. Pride comes before a fall, and all that jazz.

A shy young Belgian immigrate searches for the American girl who wrote of her love to him during the Great War.

Director Frank Capra and clown Harry Langdon together fashioned THE STRONG MAN, one of the finest comedies of the Silent Era. Moving the action from No Man's Land in Western Europe, to Ellis Island and the hectic streets of New York, and finally to the temporarily corrupted village of Cloverdale, Capra & Langdon expertly mix belly laughs with scenes of great emotional tenderness. If either of them had never made another film, this one would have been enough to have ensured each a footnote in movie history.

Langdon's minimalist style is highlighted in a series of vignettes which perfectly captures his unique adult baby persona: Harry's hilarious encounter with Broadway Lily, which includes his classic up-the-stairs-backward routine; Harry's finding of blind Mary Brown and the incredibly poignant way in which he immediately falls in love with her; Langdon's hapless impersonation of The Strong Man and his single-handed battle against a saloon full of bad guys.

A sturdy cast gives able support: Gertrude Astor as dangerous Lily; saintly William V. Mong as Holy Joe, the Cloverdale minister; Priscilla Bonner as sweet Mary; beefy Arthur Thalasso as The Great Zandow; Robert McKim as Cloverdale's wicked criminal boss; and Brooks Benedict as a tough passenger encountered by Harry on a bus.

A quick caricature of Harry, dressed in his policeman's uniform from the end of the movie, appears courtesy of Walt Disney at the beginning of the animated MICKEY'S GALA PREMIER (1933).

Having read the comment proceeding my own, I felt compelled to write a brief comment about this film (that I watched yesterday).

Sadly the previous reviewer didn't laugh a single time, which is in direct conflict with my own experience, I laughed out loud at several places in the film (and I watched it at 4:00am, so laughing out loud isn't ideal!) I enjoyed just about every aspect of the film, from the actors to the set-pieces, to the silly and poignant. There is even one moment of pure cinematic brilliance when a last curtain/sheet tears into shreds (when you see the film you'll know the sequence I'm talking about) which I thought was visually arresting.

Sadly we are too often drawn to categorize and judge films based on what is "best" or "more worthy". It seems every film must be judged against the very best at all times. I think this is a little unfair, and prefer to maintain a more open mind.

The bottom line was, this film actually did make me laugh out loud, and I was entertained throughout. From the opening sequences on the battlefield to the finale at that den on inequity. I highly recommend it to everyone, and it's certainly worth seeking out.

10 out of 10 for me, I'm going to rewatch this tonight with my good wife. Good times!

"Corny"is a word that seems to have gone out of use. Never a sterling compliment, corny meant something homespun & sentimental manufactured to manipulate our nostalgia for "the good old days". Probably the reason the word is now extinct is that people under forty don't seem to have any "good old days" to look back on. That is an issue not to be dealt with here. Rather, let us recall the corny glory that was Harry Langdon in The Strong Man. Sexless & guiless, he can muster nothing more intimidating than petulance. A true child of comedy, his white face is rather more round than Stan Laurel's but just as vacant. That face is an inconstant tabla rasa, on which external events can impress fear, joy, and love for a moment. The storyline fits Langdon like a glove; it is Evil versus Good, with Harry the Good triumphant at the end more by slapstick grace than any wit or daring on his part. You have to have a corny mindset to enjoy this movie; to wit, there are bad & bullying people in the world who deserve an antic comeuppance & extinction. If you can hold that naive thought while watching this beautiful comedy you may find yourself, as I have, actually crying through the laughter at the loving watchcare the God of comedy gives great clowns like Langdon in their most threatening pickles. The most wondrous moment of the film occurs during the rally at the end, when with barbells, cannon, and a huge fire curtain, Langdon subdues an insolent, drunken crowd. Langdon begins walking over the curtain,which is covering the writhing crowd beneath it, and suddenly dozens of hands pop through the curtain, twisting like serpents in Dante's Inferno. It is a hilarious visual gag and an apt summary of the consequences of the crowd's evil hubris. This silent gem cannot be ignored by anyone who loves cornball pantomime -- a genre apparently as dead as our ideals. Woe is us!