Speedy (1928)

Speedy (1928), directed by Ted Wilde, 4.5 stars

Let me start right off by saying that this film is a real gem.  Even if you can’t imagine yourself liking a silent movie, you’ll be dazzled by this lively comedic time capsule filmed in the late 1920s largely on the streets of New York City and on location at Coney Island’s Luna Park.  Harold Lloyd may come in third place when measured against the great Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, but at his best—and it doesn’t get much better than this—he can certainly hold his own against either of his comedic contemporaries.

Lloyd plays Harold 'Speedy' Swift, a guy who can’t seem to keep a job, largely because he’s constantly distracted by baseball.  Jane (Ann Christy) is his perky girlfriend, and Pop Dillon (Bert Woodruff) is her gruff grandfather who happens to own the last horse car in New York.  Pop’s route is coveted by a big railroad conglomerate. The company wants to build a new line along the existing track, and Pop won’t sell—at least he won’t sell cheap.  Speedy ensure this by further raising the stakes when the railroad’s owner makes one last and genuinely reasonable offer.  But high-stakes finance isn’t the only way to obtain the route, and it takes a free-for-all between plug uglies and Civil War veterans and a high-speed chase through the streets of New York City before our fearless hero manages to get not only Pop’s exorbitant asking price but the girl in the bargain.

Whether it was intended to be or not, “Speedy” is a magnificent tribute to the city in which it was filmed.  The streets are packed with pedestrians going about their daily routines, and the details bring the roaring twenties to life.  This richness is nowhere more in evidence than during the extended amusement park sequence filmed at Coney Island.  Preeminent are kewpie dolls, cotton candy, Cracker Jacks, and wild rides the likes of which they just don’t make anymore—and that’s probably just as well.  As an added treat, there’s another sequence during which George Herman Ruth appears as himself.  This rare glimpse of the “Babe” in his prime has him mugging marvelously as a petrified passenger trapped in the back seat of Speedy’s cab as it careens around the busy, city streets.  One lesser moment that caught my attention was a brief sequence during which pre-radio baseball fans were keeping each other abreast of an ongoing Yankees’ game by phone via an elaborate call tree.  This is something I must admit I had never thought about.  Oh, yes, there’s also a very clever dog that comes to the rescue on several key occasions.

There’s no better way to see a silent film than with live accompaniment, and I was fortunate to see Lloyd’s last fully silent feature in a large theater with an original score performed by the Alloy Orchestra.  I consider “Speedy” to be one of Lloyd’s best, and it was nominated by the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences for an Oscar at their very first ceremony.  I can’t recommend it highly enough for its antic comedy, for its wonderful depiction of 1920s New York City, and as an excellent example of silent films (and films in general) at their very finest.