Today I’m thankful for Harold Lloyd. Today and pretty much every other day. That bespectacled goofball/genius never fails to make me laugh and remind me that life, even at its most awkward and calamitous, is a beautiful thing.
Sadly, Lloyd doesn’t seem to get the widespread love that Keaton and Chaplin do, but his comedy has aged every bit as well as theirs. I actually feel like I can relate to Lloyd’s character the most of silent comedy’s “big three.” Lloyd’s harried, usually eager-to-please persona displays the right amount of cockiness and crankiness to let audiences recognize him as one of their own. Encountered with ridiculous obstacles or heinously rude people, Lloyd takes a moment to grimace in solidarity with his audience, as if to say, “Well, that’s just typical, isn’t it, folks?”
I decided to share the brilliant scene where Harold wrestles with a turkey in Hot Water—perfect Thanksgiving entertainment, right? Well, I couldn’t find it on YouTube, but I don’t want to live in a world where that scene’s not available for your instant viewing pleasure. So, I uploaded it myself. Enjoy!
An hour-long feature, Hot Water doesn’t stand out as one of Harold’s best films or even a representative entry in the Lloyd cannon: he doesn’t have a distinct goal or overcome a weakness to win the girl he loves. Instead, he plays a new husband grappling with his wife’s unpleasant family through a series of disastrous events.
However, Hot Water does contain some of Lloyd’s funniest material, such as the celebrated car-ride-with-the-family shenanigans and a dizzyingly hilarious faux-ghost finale. Although the movie’s second half takes place in a mundane setting, a modest 1920s home, the simple cleverness of the gags speaks to Harold’s remarkable timing.
For instance, seized by the false fear that he’s killed his mother-in-law, Harold Lloyd looks down at a newspaper to see a story about a hanged criminal. He tries to pull away, but, oh no, he’s leaned on his necktie! We get a hearty belly laugh as Harold’s guilty conscience, no doubt interpreting the pressure around his neck as a phantom noose tightening on him, prompts a panic. This underrated gem of a movie proves that Harold excelled at a wide range of comic styles—including domestic humor—not just the high-anxiety daredevil comedy for which he’s best remembered.
When I had the pleasure of meeting Lloyd’s granddaughter Suzanne Lloyd at the TCM Classic Film Festival, she described Harold as “the father of romantic comedy.” Hot Water, with its abundant misunderstandings and ambiance of family dysfunction, suggests that Harold might’ve been the ancestor of the modern sit-com, too!