By Thomas Gladysz.
The two films included in Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian serve as an excellent introduction to the comedian’s considerable talents.”
Many rediscoveries aren’t.
All-too-often, the thing in question – a movie or book or album, an actor, artist or musician, hasn’t been undeservedly forgotten so much as, simply, no longer popular. Tastes change. Fans move on. If the thing in question is truly forgotten, then it may be for a good reason. How many of us still cling to our Bobby Sherman or Milli Vanilli posters?
Raymond Griffith (1895 – 1957), a comedian and film star during the silent era, is currently undergoing something of a rediscovery. A new two disc set from Undercrank Productions, Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian, includes two of what are considered the comedic actor’s best films, Paths to Paradise (1925), and You’d Be Surprised (1926). The former is a minor masterpiece, the latter a small gem.
The Undercrank website describes Griffith as “one of the best kept secrets of silent comedy.” That’s not hype. During his twenty-five year career, Griffith not only wrote, directed and produced movies, he was also the star of nine feature films at Paramount. Because of the long unavailability of his work (a handful of his features are lost), Griffith has been pretty much forgotten. With the DVD – BluRay release of Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian, that should begin to change.
Walter Kerr’s seminal 1975 book on early comedy, The Silent Clowns, is by-and-large a look at the work of the great three, Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd. These are names familiar to just about any devotee of film. Kerr also devotes chapters to a few other influential greats – Mack Sennett, Hal Roach, Harry Langdon, and Laurel & Hardy. As well, there is discussion of the work of Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle.
In The Silent Clowns, Kerr was writing from memory, of the films and comedians he had seen and loved when he was young. Kerr’s landmark work, notably, also includes a chapter on Griffith. It begins, “In 1926 Robert E. Sherwood wrote in Life that ‘at this particular moment . . . Raymond Griffith leads all comedians in point of ingenuity, imaginativeness, and originality. . . . He is flying in the face of movie tradition and getting away with it beautifully’.” Kerr goes on to describe Griffith’s films as “masterfully delicate, the work of an inventive, unaggressive, amiably iconoclastic intelligence.”
Kerr goes on to lament the neglect of Griffith’s films, while noting how little of his work was then available. “It is difficult to develop a new audience for a man who is more than half invisible,” Kerr adds. “Critical judgments must be somewhat reserved, given such piecemeal evidence. I feel no reserve of my own: Griffith seems to me to occupy a handsome fifth place – after Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, and Langdon – in the silent comedy pantheon, a place that is his by right of his refusal to ape his contemporaries and his insistence on following the devious curve of an entirely idiosyncratic eye.”
The two films included in Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian serve as an excellent introduction to the comedian’s considerable talents. Smartly directed by Clarence Badger, Paths to Paradise is a “crook comedy timed like a Swiss watch” in which Griffith and co-star Betty Compson play rival thieves who form an alliance in order to steal a valuable jewel. The film, which is missing a reel but still feels complete enough, presents the elegant, unflappable Griffith in all his smarmy charm.
Notably, Paths to Paradise was released into theaters at the same time as Chaplin’s The Gold Rush and Lloyd’s The Freshman. It holds its own. Indeed, there is plenty of clever business in this otherwise lean slapstick, with the highlight being the scene in which Griffith’s character attempts to dodge a flashlight. In its clever execution, this scene (along with one or two others in the film) are the equal of anything Chaplin, Keaton, or Lloyd would stage.
You’d Be Surprised finds Griffith on the other side of the law as a dapper police coroner who’s called in to solve a murder. Dorothy Sebastian is the leading lady who helps the coroner sort through numerous red herrings and catch the killer. As one of the most recent rediscoveries among the lost Griffith features, You’d Be Surprised is a more than welcome addition to the continuing stream of silent films being released on home video. The film was directed by Arthur Rosson, the brother of famed cinematographer Harold Rosson.
Inventive, unaggressive, amiably iconoclastic – Griffith’s mild-mannered persona could be a double-edged sword.”
Both Paths to Paradise and You’d Be Surprised are presented in new 2K digital restorations of archival 35mm prints preserved by the Library of Congress, and each feature a new musical score by Ben Model. Also included on the disc is an informative twelve-minute video essay about Griffith by Steve Massa that uses film clips and still photos to outline the comedian’s life and career. Despite its brevity, it’s a very good introduction to Griffith that might be worth watching first – as it tips viewers to Griffith’s talents.
Inventive, unaggressive, amiably iconoclastic – Griffith’s mild-mannered persona could be a double-edged sword. While it allowed his comedic talent to shine on screen, it also, on occasion, allowed other actors to grab or at least share the spotlight. In Paths to Paradise, co-star Betty Compson – a vivacious whirl of energy if ever there was one – almost steals the show. In You’d Be Surprised, a very different supporting actor, stately Granville Redmond, draws our attention in the scenes he shares with Griffith.
Redmond, who was deaf, was an accomplished artist whose paintings are still exhibited in museums today; he was also a mentor to Charlie Chaplin who would go on to appear in a handful of uncredited parts in some of Chaplin’s greatest films. (You’d Be Surprised is his biggest screen role.) In a 2021 article about Redmond in the New York Times, “Overlooked No More: Granville Redmond, Painter, Actor, Friend,” the artist is described as an “an early example of deaf representation in Hollywood.”
Redmond lost his ability to hear when he was two years old, after coming down with scarlet fever. Griffith lost his voice at an early age after contracting diphtheria, causing him to speak in a hoarse whisper for the rest of his life. In one scene in You’d Be Surprised, the two recognize in one another their shared difficulty in communicating with the world. And then something remarkable happens – the screen speaks when Griffith’s and Redmond’s characters begin to communicate with one another through sign language. It is yet another understated, though remarkable scene.
If the term “soft spoken” can apply to a silent film star, it might well apply to Raymond Griffith. Early on in his career, Griffith lacked a distinct comedy persona. He was then just another comedic actor, and somewhat forgettable. But then something noteworthy happened. Griffith found himself. If a hat can be a masque, then Griffith found himself while sporting his trademark silk top hat. He became the “silk hat comedian,” and a comedian worth remembering.
And let’s not forget his stylish mustache.
Thomas Gladysz founded the embattled Louise Brooks Society in 1995. He is the author of articles on early film, as well as five books. His latest is The Street of Forgotten Men: From Story to Screen and Beyond, with forewords by Robert Byrne and Kevin Brownlow.