Harry Langdon's "Saturday Afternoon" is often ranked among the greatest silent comedies, at least where short subjects are concerned, and therefore may come as a bit of a letdown for some. Unlike some of the other recognized classics such as Keaton's "Cops" or Chaplin's "The Immigrant" this film is in some respects a familiar, conventional situation comedy and doesn't offer much in the way of belly laughs; one may even wonder whether Langdon belongs in such rarefied company. Nonetheless, in my opinion, it's a perfectly charming comedy in its minor-key way, and Harry is fascinating to watch.
For a modern viewer raised on TV sitcoms the plot of "Saturday Afternoon" may suggest The Honeymooners or its many spin-offs: two dim guys, one of whom is married and very much under his wife's thumb, try to sneak out with a couple of good-time girls for a fun afternoon; but everything goes wrong, and they wind up having to fight the girls' tough guy boyfriends. Does this sound familiar? And perhaps a little dreary? Well, the premise was already shopworn when this film was made, but beyond that nothing about Langdon was typical. He was odd, starting with the fact that he looked like a middle-aged baby who was half asleep. Any Freudians who catch "Saturday Afternoon" will have a field day with the scenes between this timid, pudgy-faced baby-man and his stern, gently domineering mommy-wife. When Harry tries to hide money under the rug but she catches him in the act and forces him to hand it over, you'd swear you're watching an interaction between a 6 year-old boy and his Mama . . . and maybe that's why Harry Langdon gave some people the creeps, and still does.
But he's a compelling screen figure, and it's not what he does so much as the way he does it. In that scene with the coins under the rug, for instance, Harry finds the coins by placing one foot before the other, carefully, like a tightrope walker, counting off his paces until he finds the right spot, and his technique is hypnotic. Langdon moved like no one else. Whether or not he makes you laugh, the guy is mesmerizing, seemingly in a world of his own. Where the plot of his films is concerned Harry is curiously passive, and almost never drives the story forward himself. In the finale of "Saturday Afternoon," when the big fistfight is taking place, Harry's co-star Vernon Dent is in the thick of the action, but Harry is in a daze for much of the time, and winds up sort of punch-drunk between two cars (sitting on the running board of one, but with his feet on the other) while they race through the streets. It's a memorable image, and, as the critic Walter Kerr wrote, it encapsulates Langdon's screen persona quite perfectly: he's a passive figure who somehow finds himself in the middle of frantic action, blinking sleepily while the world rushes past. It's also worth noting that Langdon and Dent, who worked together frequently, have a rapport in this movie that suggests a blueprint Laurel & Hardy would follow when they teamed up a year or so later. Langdon's style was a likely influence on Stan Laurel, especially here.
"Saturday Afternnon" and its star may not be for everyone, but the film is well worth a look, and you might find that Langdon makes an impression that's hard to shake.