“Gentlemen of Nerve”: Slapstick, Petrol Smell, and Pie Crumbs in My Lap

Alright, so I pressed play on “Gentlemen of Nerve” for maybe the fourth or fifth time last Saturday after midsommar sill and maybe a bit too much aquavit. Immediately, it’s that silent cinema, grainy-as-gravel, like looking through pappa’s old photo album. And there they are: Charles freakin’ Chaplin and Mabel Normand, both huge already in 1914. Chaplin’s that ridiculous Tramp with baggy pants; bloke cannot walk properly to save his life. And “Fatty” Arbuckle is wandering around, drifting through the scene with this posture like he’s waiting for a kanelbulle at the station.

Mack Sennett, the king of silly, sits in the director’s chair. Think of him as the Swedish Christmas Eve TV host for slapstick – if you get what I mean. This is filmed at some race track where you can almost hear the engines if you squint hard… or was it my tinnitus? Never mind.

But, truth: 17 minutes just zips by. It’s total chaos. Chaplin’s flirty smirk, Mabel’s annoyed clucks, pies flying, people tumbling over railings. Some jokes actually made me snort coffee through my nose. But sometimes you’re just staring at folks falling in mud and you’re like, eh… did people in 1914 find this *that* uproarious? I guess they bloomin’ did.

Funny thing: when I was a teenager, I tried to recreate a pratfall from this film at the local bus station and smashed my knee so badly I limped for a week. So yes, slapstick hurts, mate.

Sure, it’s old as Vasaloppet, and the gags feel a bit creaky. But there’s proper warmth in the silliness. Watch if you wanna feel the roots of comedy, eat something messy, and be glad you’re not falling into a mud puddle on film.

watch the full movie on Mavshack Movies on YouTube

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