Paramount, 1926. Director: Frank Tuttle. Scenario: Tom Gibson, adapted by Luther Reed from the play by William Anthony McGuire and Otto Harbach. Camera: Victor Milner. Cast: Eddie Cantor, Clara Bow, Billie Dove, Lawrence Gray, Natalie Kingston, Malcolm Waite.
In these difficult times, when comfort is sorely needed, the film enthusiast can find comfort in the exciting, near-miraculous work being performed on a regular basis by today’s film-preservation community. I’ve observed before in this space that much of that work is being supported and propagated by independent Blu-Ray producers, and no producer brings us the restored classics in a more polished, elegant form than Film Preservation Society. Since its inception five years ago, FPS has graced us with several exciting discs featuring key silent films, previously unavailable but now beautifully restored to view (while simultaneously carrying on another monumental project, the restoration of every one of D.W. Griffith’s Biograph films, about which more presently). This month we are the recipients of another exciting FPS gift: a Blu-Ray disc featuring the screen debut of Eddie Cantor in Kid Boots.
Kid Boots was never technically a lost film—that is, virtually every part of it survived in some form. But being able to view it was another story. For this restoration, Paramount Pictures and the Library of Congress combined two surviving 35mm elements, a 1926 nitrate work print and a later-generation safety positive, to produce a composite version that was essentially complete. But even that was only the beginning: FPS stepped in to perform exhaustive cleanup, stabilizing, and dewarping work on a 4K scan of the picture, and combined it with a new piano score by Daan van den Hurk. Thanks to their efforts, Kid Boots can not only be seen, but, for the first time in generations, can be seen in a clear, sparkling presentation that recreates the experience of the first audiences who saw it, nearly a century ago.
And it’s worth the wait. Debut screen vehicle this may be, but it’s no beginner’s effort. To today’s viewer, perhaps even the seasoned Eddie Cantor fan, it’s difficult to think of Cantor without thinking of his signature songs, sung in his high, peculiarly reedy voice. Indeed, this film was adapted from his hit Broadway musical comedy of the same name. As a silent film, however, it’s necessarily a very free adaptation, one that forces Cantor to rely on his physical-comedy skills. And, with a generous assist from director Frank Tuttle and Paramount’s writers, Cantor proves himself an adept sight-gag comedian. I’ve always maintained that Paramount Pictures was the most comedy-friendly of all the major studios, and Kid Boots ably supports that judgment; it’s of a piece with the great Paramount comedies that W.C. Fields, Raymond Griffith, and other comics were turning out during the mid-1920s.
To begin with, it has a wildly offbeat plot, one that moves at a lively pace throughout. I will not attempt to describe the details here but, briefly, it concerns Cantor’s efforts to help a friend avoid legal entrapment by an ex-wife who only wants to get her hands on the friend’s inheritance. Along the way, Cantor manages to incur the wrath of a hulking bully—Malcolm Waite, who had recently played a similar role in Chaplin’s The Gold Rush—and also finds time to indulge in a romance of his own, with none other than Clara Bow.
Clara was hardly a newcomer to the screen in 1926, but she was just coming into her own as a major star. In Kid Boots it’s easy to see why; her vivacious personality practically leaps off the screen. Her attraction to Cantor may be difficult to fathom, but she quickly takes the dominant role in a decidedly unconventional romance.
All this, of course, is merely a framework on which to build comic business, and Kid Boots offers a full complement of visual comedy set-pieces. As such it’s a doubly impressive vehicle for Cantor; he engages in comedy conventions that we’ve seen performed by Charley Chase, Harold Lloyd, and other masters of the form, and holds his own. And, in the best silent-comedy tradition, the story culminates in a climactic chase—here involving, not cars or trains, but horses, a dangerous mountain pass, and a parachute!
The restored Kid Boots is, in short, a delight from beginning to end, and would be cause for excitement by itself. But our friends at FPS haven’t stopped there. Instead they’ve framed the disc as a Clara Bow double feature, rounding out the bill with Clara’s 1927 vehicle Get Your Man, directed by Dorothy Arzner. Get Your Man is a rarity, and there’s a reason for that: it began to show the early signs of nitrate deterioration, and was saved and preserved at the very brink of extinction. To those of us who love the films of the era, this rescue is a godsend, and to have it at our fingertips on this Blu-Ray—presented in the most complete possible form, and accompanied by a new piano score by Donald Sosin—is doubly precious. And as if that were not enough, the disc also includes one of the recent FPS restorations of a Griffith Biograph: A Decree of Destiny, featuring Mary Pickford and originally released in 1911. This added bonus is not only a gem in its own right, but a welcome reminder of the historic Biograph Project that is still ongoing behind the scenes at FPS. Altogether, this forthcoming Blu-Ray amounts to a true embarrassment of riches, an encouraging reminder to film enthusiasts that there is hope for the future after all.
