One of the most famous comedy double acts of all-time get a fitting tribute with this lovely warm hug of a biopic featuring two terrific central performances that, for a time, make you feel like you’re watching the real Laurel and Hardy right before your very eyes.
Though it’s not what you would call the most surprising of films, with very few narrative twists and turns that will catch even fewer off guard, it’s nevertheless one that takes us warmly by the hand and guides us through the ups and downs of the incomparable pair just as their careers were beginning to die down.
After a quick intro into the heights of their heyday in 1937, events skip forward to 1953 where Stan and Ollie, wonderfully played by Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly respectively, reconnect after years apart to embark on a tour of the cities and small towns of Britain under the guidance of tour manager Bernard Delfont (Rufus Jones).
People remember them affectionately, “still using the same old material,” but they’re not playing the same size venues as they used to and are clinging onto the hope of doing a fancy new Robin Hood film once they get back to Hollywood, supposedly backed by irritable and money-hungry studio exec Hal Roach (Danny Huston).
There’s a great pang of nostalgia, fondness, wide-eyed longing and sadness coursing throughout much of this gentle film as we get to see what their pairing, their huge success and the coming to terms with the fact that it’s dwindling, means to the pair themselves and on their respective wives, Ida (Nina Arianda) and Lucille (Shirley Henderson), who eventually join them on their tour.
While the direction by Jon S. Baird (making a sharp career right turn after the infinitely more outrageous Filth) can feel a little televisual at times, the sense of time and place combined with the performances elevates it. It was always going to be hard to depict this duo on-screen in a film like this, given their distinctiveness in every way, shape and form. And it’s certainly true that the two leads have their mannerisms down to an absolute tee; Coogan is particularly fascinating to watch, having the hardest job of the two given Laurel’s outlandish facial expressions. But the two play delightfully off of one another as the idiosyncratically buffoonish and the grumpy put-upon partner-in-tow.
However, it’s far more than just impersonation for impersonation’s sake. We have two larger than life figures here and the film puts the emphasis on “life” in that equation. It’s a bit of a wonder to watch them going through the genuinely emotional and heartfelt minutiae of their troubles off-stage then transform into their carefully constructed personas once the curtain rises. Once they do, it’s a joy to behold some of their most famous skits, like “Hard Boiled Eggs and Nuts” and the “Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia” song reenacted with such joyful sincerity.
What Baird’s biopic does best of all is give us a sense of these men as people, albeit painted in broader strokes – it aims for as wide of an audience as possible and in that respect, it throws its arms wide around all. But it also leaves no doubt as to why they were and continue to be so cherished. Laurel may have gotten his old buddy Hardy into fine messes again and again, but the film about them is anything but.