Tillie's Punctured Romance (1914)

Tillie's Punctured Romance is a 109 -year-old film by Mack Sennett, the founder of Keystone Studios and the creator of the iconic "Keystone Cops," as well as the lover of the doomed, gorgeous little Mabel Normand, "Madcap Mabel," the pioneering comedienne of the silent screen. Mack discovered talents as rare and wonderful as Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, as well as the tragic and infamous Fatty Arbuckle, and his legendary antique films gave birth to slapstick conventions such as pratfalls, pie fights, and slipping on a banana peel. In other words, D.W. Griffith or Sergei Eisenstein was not.

Tillie's Punctured Romance goes on a bit long for what it is--one hour and twenty-two minutes of Marie Dressler dancing her lightfooted though undeniably heavyset form through a series of perturbations and situations that are loaded with slam-bang humorous actions, and the aforementioned pratfalls and pie fights (although in the version I saw today, regrettably, the pie fight scene had been excised).

Tillie (Dressler) is a drudge, a heavyset, unappealing workhorse on her daddy's farm: crude, inelegant, unlovely, and not terribly bright. Charlie Chaplin comes along (playing a characterization NOT named, he is, however, NOT playing "The Little Tramp" here, though his character could undeniably be characterized as a tramp regardless), as a seedy character in a threadbare, ripped jacket, surveying the property of Tillie's dad, and smelling money. And, of course, we have a scene wherein a huge wad of cash is delivered to Tillie's father (Mack Swain), who perhaps has just sold the farm.

Chaplin comes in, an eager con man, and sweeps Tillie from her feet. They steal her dad's wad of cash, using it to elope, and Tillie and Charlie go downtown to a restaurant. It is not long before they run into Charlie's girlfriend or female accomplice, the unnamed character simply credited as "Mabel" (Mabel Normand) and they both proceed to take Tillie to a restaurant, get her drunk, and steal the dough, as she gets hauled off to the hoosegow for disorderly conduct.

Tillie decides, upon release, to try for a job as a waitress, and havoc ensues, as the gum-chewing Victorian grotesques she works with are not keen on Tillie, who still dances erratically, as if inebriated. Meanwhile, her Uncle, Uncle Banks (Charles Bennett), is thought to have died on Mt. Baldy during a hiking accident and leaves her an heiress to a considerable fortune. Charlie and Mabel (who have just been to a cinema to see a drama that mirrors, weirdly, their own crime), decide to con the infernally stupid Tillie into marrying Charlie so he can get his hands on all that green. The action proceeds to a mansion with servants dressed in powdered wigs, tailcoats, and knee breeches like something from just prior to the French Revolution.

There's just one problem: Charlie can't keep his hands off the delectable little Mabel (the viewer will have a hard time keeping their eyes off of her I assure you--there was just something about Mabel Normand that drew in the attention like a bolt out of the blue) and finds the two of them necking in a curtained alcove. She goes for her gun.

The Keystone Cops are brought out in all their glorious, zany force for the end. I suppose I've given away too much, but I've personally seen Tillie's Punctured Romance more than once, and, for a picture that's over a century old, it's worth every minute of attention you give to it. The film is a surprising joy to watch, having dated better than many films far, far less advanced in age.

There's virtually no pathos. We don't feel sorry for Tillie--she comes across as a fool. She dances and gesticulates the entire picture (although physical movements of an exaggerated nature were the, forgive the pun, "keystone" of the silent screen). There is no point in a let-up in the action as it freefalls forward for the viewer to stop and reflect sympathetically. It's a pure physical farce, with a fool at the center of the chaotic never-let-up narrative.

It was the first full-length comedy ever produced, and, as such, Sennett was taking a bet on his audience not getting bored and just...ambling out. And then word of mouth sinking his picture, perhaps. To that end, he put Mabel in the picture, which was the smartest move he could've made (who could stop looking at her?), and added Charlie to boot, to skid to a halt on the heel of his dogged-out shoes, one-foot thrust into the air, and turn a corner as if defying gravity.

But, all that said, I still wanted a damn pie fight. WHERE WAS THE DAMNED PIE FIGHT?

Tillie's Punctured Romance (1914)