A Chump at Oxford (1940)

Sometimes, we tend to want to put away the overly serious, ambitious and artistically-resonant productions and instead simply just watch something entertaining. Mercifully, the film industry has never experienced a shortage of wonderfully exuberant productions, many of them produced through the partnerships of various comedic duos or troupes, which served as the foundation for countless wonderful comedies over the years. The Marx Brothers, Abbott and Costello and The Bowery Boys (and several others) were all responsible for dominating comedy in the first half of the century – and one duo in particular has made perhaps the most iconic contribution in this regard, the delightful Laurel and Hardy. This is surprisingly the first time I have spoken of them here, and my admiration for their brand of comedy, and very intentive approach to humour, has been long overdue for a discussion. One of their more popular productions is A Chump at Oxford, their charming semi-parody of the sweeping romantic drama, A Yank at Oxford, which has been filtered through the absurdly endearing lens of the duo’s peculiar sense of humour, to form something that may not be entirely original, but still possesses a revolutionary spirit that defined Laurel and Hardy as cinematic pioneers, and amongst the most beloved comedic icons to ever work in the medium. There are few better representations of why Laurel and Hardy were such incredibly brilliant performers and comedic minds than this one, which isn’t only a film that accomplishes what it sets out to do, but encapsulates the wonderfully unhinged brilliance of a duo who committed their lives to simply making us laugh.

There is a timelessness to the comedy of Laurel and Hardy that continues to make their films such enduring classics. Despite being made as early as a century ago, their work (regardless of whether they were silent films or talkies) have aged incredibly well, and remains entertaining to even the most modern-minded viewers. There is something about comedy in the early twentieth century that has just allowed it to age impeccably – perhaps its the predominance of physical humour, which translates to a global audience much more than most other forms of comedy, or the fact that their productions were so straightforward, emphasis was placed less on being original, and more on simply entertaining whatever audience their films were put in front of. A Chump at Oxford is one of their most popular, since it deftly balances the slapstick with a wildly funny story of social and cultural mores that made these films so incredibly captivating over the years (it’s a quality that they share with the Marx Brothers, who gradually started to become more subversive as they realized audiences were capable of appreciating more than just purely visual humour), and puts us in a position of experiencing their dizzying style in the way it was originally intended. Laurel and Hardy managed to find the humour in any situation, and even when they were at their most satirical, it was never mean-spirited, and instead just has a tendency of delightfully irreverent mischief that propels the story and makes it all the more compelling, since there is a method to their madness that we don’t often see in more contemporary comedic duos.

Talking about a film like A Chump at Oxford is slightly more difficult because there isn’t anything necessarily provocative or challenging about it – but in the broader context of the cultural legacy of the main duo, there is quite a bit to be said. Their partnership was one built on a mutual respect, as well as the ability for one to pick up where the other fell short. Their energies were completely different, yet they were always on the same comedic level, which made their work together so enthralling. A Chump at Oxford is a slightly bigger challenge for them, since it isn’t only a film that showcases their exceptional comedic style, but one that always adds an element of social humour to the proceedings, meaning that there had to be a certain depth to their performances. Both of the two leads are naturally in their element already, and it’s not too much of a stretch for them, not even for Stan Laurel, who had the additional benefit of playing a secondary character in his momentary lapse into “Lord Paddington”, a very funny change of pace for both leads, since it gave them something new to do, while not pushing them too far out of their comfort zone (it was always a calculated risk for actors with a very strong on-screen persona to radically change their image, and one that didn’t always pay off, since audiences go into their films expecting a certain kind of performance). The film is filled with these quieter moments where the comedy briefly subsides to make way for slightly more profound comments – certainly few and far between, but they’re definitely there, embedded indelibly into the fabric of a film that dares to be different, while still reminding us of what we love about Laurel and Hardy.

Ultimately, A Chump at Oxford isn’t much more than we’d expect – the premise is delightfully simple, and we’re promised a witty and upbeat story of two of cinema’s most beloved morons venturing across the pond and bringing along with them their hilariously offbeat ability to incite chaos wherever they go. This film is a great entry point for newcomers to the duo’s work, as well as a cherished entry into the canon of favourites held by those devoted to their work. It’s captivating enough to grab our attention, and manages to warrant our increased participation by actually managing to be refreshing and funny throughout, and not overstaying its welcome (the days where a feature comedy could just reach the one-hour mark are sadly a thing of the past, but this film reminds us that brevity truly is the best way to entertain audiences at times), lasting just long enough to keep us alert and entertained. In the end, there is an elusive quality to this kind of comedy that keeps it enthralling even when we can predict each and every step it is going to take – there is an argument to be made that playing by the rules can sometimes be the best quality of a film, since it inspires a sense of comfort and warmth, which audiences do tend to have a positive reaction towards. This idea, coupled with the fact that the people we see on screen are at the peak of their creativity, only strengthens the experience and makes it all the more delightful, which is further reason to celebrate the incredibly poignant and captivating genius that Laurel and Hardy demonstrated throughout their entire career.

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