Girl Shy

Drop her in any decade and she'd be fetching. In her own heyday, she was probably the bees' knees. She's the mostly forgotten '20s silent actress Jobyna Ralston, apparently named after the even more forgotten Gibson Girl Jobyna Howland.

I saw Girl Shy today, vintage 1924. Ralston co-stars in it with Harold Lloyd. He's better remembered, of course, but not a lot. Sad to say, the last time I remember seeing a Harold Lloyd movie was Safety Last in film class in 1983. Girl Shy holds up well as comedy, no little thing after 85 years. Mostly the kind of comedy that makes you grin, but sometimes I laughed out loud (which I'm never abbreviating).

Ann laughed sometimes too. She watched the whole thing with me, either guessing at the title cards or asking me about them, because they went by too quickly for her to read.

Girl Shy follows the travails of Harold Meadows, apprentice tailor and would-be bestselling author of an advice book about wooing women. It wouldn't be comedy if he himself didn't have a hard time doing just that, but he overcomes his shyness in the presence of the wealthy Mary Buckingham (Ralston). Boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. That story arc is older than... well, silent movies, but never mind. The comedy's in the details.

From what I've read, the movie is best remembered for the elaborate chase scene toward the end. Harold has to get to a wedding ceremony on time, to prevent Mary from marrying another man. (The producers of the The Graduate must have had this movie in mind). It's an amazing chase. Harold goes through a half a dozen cars, a couple of horses, a horse and wagon, and a motorcycle on his frantic journey through rural and urban southern California. He also steals a streetcar at one point. Even if Lloyd did only half of the stunts, and I've read he usually did his own, it would have been a tour-de-force. Or maybe a tour-de-farce.

Much less madcap, but just as funny, was the scene in the train car when boy met girl. Complicating things, girl had a dog that wasn't allowed on the train, and a conductor was close by. Before it was over, Lloyd was obliged to make dog noises, eat dog biscuits and look like a weirdo who stole women's clothes and stuffed his pockets with them. The scene has to be seen to be believed. Seen, but not heard, and considering how much of the comedy depended on dog noises you couldn't actually hear, quite a trick.

Chaplin is remembered for his an expressive face and subtle body gestures. Lloyd's clearly in the same league. Part of the comedy of the movie hung on the fact that Harold Meadows was a stutterer, something bound to draw the complains of sensitive souls in our time, but more importantly something you really wouldn't expect from a silent movie. Lloyd pulls it off remarkably well, without going overboard while pushing and straining to get those words out -- all done with gestures. Sometimes it was for laughs. But just as often you really feel sorry for the guy as his speech impediment gets in the way of his life.

The movie was loaded was a lot of curious, time-stamped detail, too. Just as interesting as the comedy. In fact, worth watching just for that. My own favorite was the fictional (I assume) brand, Acme Dog Biscuits. If I'd thought about it before, I would have realized it went back further than Loony Toons writers, but pretty much everyone born after about 1950 thinks of Wile E. Coyote.