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  • wmorrow592 October 2016
    This amusing two-reel comedy is one of several made by Harry Langdon for the Hal Roach Studio, at the dawn of the talkie era. The quirky comedian, a great favorite with audiences just a few years earlier, had fallen on hard times and was going through a rough patch in his career. Even before the talkie revolution he'd been dropped from First National's roster after one too many flops; now, during the 1929-30 season, he badly needed to establish himself as a draw in talkies.

    I've seen several of the short comedies Langdon made for Roach. They're a mixed lot, but I'd say The Fighting Parson is one of the best. The Western setting works well for Harry, and the gags are pretty good, but what I really like about it—and what makes it special as a sound attraction—is that it shows off Langdon's musical abilities. In his very first scene, as a passenger on a stagecoach, Harry plays a jaunty banjo number and sings in his thin, piping voice. When he finishes, he holds out his hand for tips, but his fellow passengers are unmoved. Once he arrives at his destination, a saloon in a hardscrabble town, the musical performance continues. Through a mix-up, Harry is mistaken for the new parson. The townspeople expect him to lead them in "Rock of Ages," but instead he launches into a peppy rendition of "Frankie and Johnny," followed by an eccentric dance. Langdon spent many years in vaudeville before he entered the movies, and this pleasant sequence gives us a glimpse of what he learned in his stage days.

    The plot of The Fighting Parson is both rudimentary and familiar: once we get past the mistaken identity business (reminiscent of Chaplin's The Pilgrim), Harry stumbles into a conflict with a local bully over a young lady, who was abducted and forced to work as a dance hall girl. For the finale, Harry and the bully settle their differences in an impromptu boxing match, highlighted by a surreal sight gag involving Harry's use of fake arms. Admittedly, some of the gags along the way are familiar from earlier Langdon films. For instance, when he accidentally consumes tobacco and becomes woozy, fans will be reminded of similar bits in The Luck o' the Foolish and His Marriage Wow. The ride in the stagecoach, surrounded by unfriendly people, recalls Harry's memorable bus trip in The Strong Man, and the lowdown dance hall milieu is a reminder of that film, too. But there's nothing wrong with reworking old bits in a new setting—everyone did that, including Chaplin. What's nice about The Fighting Parson is that it recaptures a little of that old Langdon magic, the unique quality that made his best silent comedies for Sennett and First National so enjoyable.
  • Warning: Spoilers
    It is interesting to watch Langdon retool and refine his on-screen persona through the transition from silent pictures to sound. In this Roach-era short, we see him in the process of finding his footing.

    Many viewers appear nonplussed by the opening stagecoach sequence, seeming to believe that Harry's protracted and incoherent babbling comprises the entire gag. Harry eats a sandwich that he thinks was filled with preserved meat by a fellow passenger when in fact, the stagecoach driver's tobacco plug is concealed between the slices of bread. As the scene progresses, Harry suffers from the increasingly unpleasant effects of nicotine poisoning and struggles to keep himself together in a situation that he can neither control nor understand.

    Plenty of other comedians have used this same bit - in fact, this sequence recalls an earlier Langdon short, THE LUCK O'THE FOOLISH. There, the gag culminates with a nauseated Harry crawling into traffic, obliviously placing himself in danger in an attempt to avoid discomfort, and then vomiting the offending sandwich into a fountain offscreen. Here, over-the-top slapstick perils are discarded, and the fear of being humiliated in social situations plays out in miniature. The emphasis is focused tightly on the character's discomfort, without recourse to wacky hijinks.

    Langdon frequently uses awkward, cruel or embarrassing situations to provoke laughter through unease. Here, he pulls a characteristically nasty bait-and-switch on his hungry character. As Harry suffers from nausea, palpitations and breathing difficulty, the other passenger's thoughtful offer of a turkey wing becomes a gesture of sadism. Langdon is frequently mischaracterized as a gentle, cute or precious comic, when in fact, his work is often quite cruel and bleak.

    In this feature, Langdon seems to be restrained from prior missteps (LONG PANTS, anyone?) and does not aggressively pursue audience discomfort. Some truly charming song-and-dance bits are neatly paced and well integrated into the plot. Finally, the climactic wacky-boxing match uses cartoonish sight gags popular in the 1930s to explicitly Surreal effect.

    This work suffers from sloppy editing that occasionally creates the impression of missing footage, and some awkward pacing seems to point to a struggle between Langdon's characteristic slow style and the need for a completed plot arc.

    Nevertheless, I think this two-reeler is an appealing bagatelle, and I am perennially surprised by how many people seem to think otherwise. It seems that even Langdon's fans find his work polarizing.
  • The marriage of styles between Harry Langdon and the Hal Roach studio would seem, on the surface of it, to be a perfect wedding but the reality was that it was a bumpy affair. However, THE FIGHTING PARSON turned out to be a memorable union.

    Our first appearance of Harry is inside a stagecoach entertaining the passengers with a charming ditty while strumming a banjo. The great comedians all seemed to had been musically proficient. Groucho played guitar to keep up with his brothers and Keaton played a mean ukulele. When Harry finishes his tune he immediately holds out his hand looking for tips. Since he is wedged between two disinterested people his hand moves from side to side to side looking for a response. It's a hilarious moment. This short plays up the description that only the Gods and fate can save this clown. Through a series of accidents that Harry has no control over he soon has an entire western town believing that he is the notorious fighting Parson. There is not a more implausible sight than a town of western toughs cowering while pasty-faced Harry is busy playing by blowing foam off of his beer mug. Since he has the run of the town he decides to entertain them all by once again taking out his banjo and goes into a spirited rendition of "Frankie and Johnnie". This is followed by an impromptu tap dance and it comes off just as charming as the off-the-cuff musical moments that would appear in the shorts of Charley Chase and Stan & Ollie.

    Eventually Harry must face off against the town's bad guy and since this is a western setting we naturally assume guns will be involved. And for that very reason the boys settle their differences with a boxing match. The farcical tones of this short is ratcheted up another notch as Harry acquires two long poles for arms with boxing gloves attached to the ends. This abstract image is matched with Langdon's creative use of his new arms as he pokes, jabs, throws wheel barrel punches and even skips rope with them. It all ends up with this being one of the most entertaining of the Langdon-Roach shorts.
  • In the 1920s, Harry Langdon made some fine comedies. However, after making some very career choices, he took charge of his career and ended up losing so much of his comic edge. He left the studio and director (Frank Capra) who made him successful and spent the next decade-plus floundering in poor films (or worse). Much of his act in these films seemed to be Langdon acting as if he's a child who is insufferably annoying--insisting that everyone should stop and pay attention to him. His trying hard to look like a slightly addled child certainly didn't help.

    Here in one of Langdon's efforts for Hal Roach Studios, much of the time he follows this poor pattern. Many times (especially early in the film) he seems to just prattle aimlessly and at great length--as if that alone was somehow funny (which it wasn't). In particular, seeing and hearing him talk and talk and talk gibberish on the stage coach was pretty tough to endure. Following this, so often through the film Landgon just stared off into space--as if somehow that was funny. His comic timing was just dreadful and much of the film should have been edited to make it tighter and less long-winded.

    Later, a bit more happens--though it isn't necessarily funny. There's a slow-motion boxing match where he literally walks about as if he's on downers. And seeing his enormously long fake arms was, apparently, THE joke--not just part of a longer and funnier routine. It didn't make me laugh and was just rather dumb--but perhaps kids will laugh at this.

    The bottom line is like the other Hal Roach shorts I've seen Langdon make, this one is just dreadful--and even worse than his later shorts for Columbia. After a promising career start, he settled into a life of awfulness that is just inexplicable--how could a guy who was once this funny now be this unfunny?! As a HUGE fan who has reviewed hundreds (if not more) early comedies, I am dumbfounded by this and find his later films practically unwatchable. Do yourself a favor and try his earlier films--they really aren't at all like this bilge.
  • Harry is a traveling hat salesman out west and he is mistaken for the Fighting Parson, who has been going around, punching out bandits and running revival meetings. So when he shows up in town and proceeds to charm the sinners by singing 'Frankie and Johnny' instead of 'Rock of Ages' he must fight Leo Wills for control of the town.

    For some reason, Harry's Roach shorts are given short shrift in film history, just another rock on his career's pratfall. But looking at the actual work, I see an absolutely delightful short as Harry moves his naif into the sound era and begins to alter him for the new venue. A veteran of the stage, he sings, he plays the piano and he performs a fine eccentric dance. Nor are the solid comedy technicians at Roach averse to helping him come up with one of his better surrealistic gags for the final big fight scene.

    For some reason, Thelma Todd appears only in a few crowd shots. This looks like it was cut down from three reels, or perhaps they simply built up the comedy boxing match and had to cut out her part.
  • Fighting Parson, The (1930)

    * 1/2 (out of 4)

    A minor step up from the previous two Hal Roach-Harry Langdon shorts but this still isn't anything to write home about. This time out Langdon is on a stagecoach that gets held up but he winds up in a local town where the people mistake him for a boxer known as The Fighting Parson. Soon one of the men starts to abuse a woman (Nancy Dover) and soon he winds up in the ring with Langdon who defends her of course. As I said, if you're expecting any type of good film then you're going to be disappointed but at the same time I can't recall a time where I was happy to give a film such a low rating. Even though it's still rated quite low by my standards it's at least better than the previous two films both of which were quite horrid. This one here starts off incredibly bad as we get some horrible jokes that simply aren't funny. One such joke includes a rather long sequence where Langdon is eating a sandwich and just randomly talking about a wide range of things. He just talks and talks and talks for no apparent reason other than trying to be funny but it's not even close. I didn't even crack a smile as the entire gag just seemed annoying. Things finally pick up at the very end when Dover comes up with some "fake arms" that Langdon can use to fight and I must admit that I finally laughed a couple times during this sequence. Another decent sequence is when Langdon sings "Frankie and Johnny" to a nice effect. Thelma Todd appears in a couple crowd shots but isn't given any dialogue.
  • I continue to be stunned by this guy's abilities. I thought Langdon was a low-talent flash in the pan. The more I watch, the more I am amazed. After seeing this film, I can see why Chaplin felt threatened by Langdon. Burlesque, farce, sight gags, creativity, dance and song, combine in this rare gem. Why wasn't Langdon's phone ringing off the table after this short? Something is wrong with this whole scene. Did Frank Capra take his revenge to the street and get Langdon blackballed? If you combine this movie with "Three's Company", you have two unforgettable boxing scenes, before Chaplin's "City Lights". Langdon dances like he was born to dance. I have seen him sing here and in "Soldier's Plaything". This guy was a nuclear arsenal of talent. Yes, Langdon challenges us. They have a word for that. They call it "ART". He easily steals every scene with a bottomless well of pantomime, gestures and facial expressions. "The Fighting Parson" combines the best of the Sennett tradition, Hal Roach's team and Langdon's ability to pay it off. I urge the viewer to just relax and let this side-splitting short come to you.