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Service comedies are well and good, unless you’re doing them in your fifties, and competing directly with a juggernaut like Abbott and Costello, just out the gate with Buck Privates and widely accepted as the template for screen comedy. Lois Laurel says A&C actually came to her father for gag counsel prior to their starring bow, so it’s doubly ironic that L&H ran such a distant second to these upstarts. Great Guns is clearly a B film, though production trappings surpass a last few they did for Hal Roach and United Artists release. There’s just no way a 1941 Stan and Ollie can run as fast or fall down so hard as Bud and Lou. Age issues are front and center in our consciousness most of the time. I found myself noticing Laurel’s weight in one scene --- he’s 51 here, and it’s up --- but hey, so am I and my weight's up as well. That’s where much of the drama lies for lifelong fans as we watch and rewatch these things. We identify with the boys to the point of projecting our own lives and experiences onto theirs. Is that unhealthy? May-be, but it sure enriches the viewing experience. Everybody derides romantic subplots in Laurel and Hardy features. All surplusage, but when it's Sheila Ryan, the whole enterprise becomes less painful. That’s her with L&H in a typical comedy plus leg art sitting routine on all their Fox releases. You'll note also a leaf tattoo on Hardy’s forearm in this barracks shot --- he’d had that most of his life, and it crops up occasionally in stills going all the way back to a partnership's onset, though I’ve never noticed it onscreen --- have any of you? Old gags are dredged from silent days ... we take notice thanks to decades-long kinship with earlier L&H subjects, an advantage 1941 audiences definitely did not share. Chances are they wouldn’t recall Stan carrying both ends of a board as having originated with 1927’s The Finishing Touch. It’s not as though theatres were running silent shorts in the forties, and Blackhawk Films was years away from releasing L&H on home movie formats. I’ll bet the hoary old gag brought 40's houses slap down (according to exhibitor reportage, all of Great Guns did). Boxoffice money trees were blossoming --- against a negative cost of $280,000, Great Guns took $514,000 in domestic rentals and $575,000 foreign for a worldwide total of $1.0 million. The final profit of $511,000 was assurance that Laurel and Hardy would continue to be a welcome presence at Fox.
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Critics had never been kind to Laurel and Hardy. Establishment press offered them little more respect than might be accorded cartoon characters, as these boys had plied trade for going on two decades, and that was longer than most laugh-makers at the time. To say they were taken for granted would be putting it mildly. Laurel and Hardy appeared stately beside a frenetic Danny Kaye scat number, and the near-hysterical pace of Abbott and Costello made Stan and Ollie all the more prehistoric by comparison. Since they’d not attained the critical cache of a Chaplin or Keaton, there were no James Agees waiting in wings to rehabilitate the team. Most among critics were as pleased to see Laurel and Hardy disappear altogether, and indeed, their retreat to British music halls in the late forties must have seemed like precisely that. For all intents and purposes, L&H were through with US movies by a war's end. Ill-advised Euro filming and illness prevented their seizing advantage of early television as would Keaton, Abbott and Costello, and The Three Stooges, and by the time a deal was put together, Oliver Hardy’s health precluded further work. From occasion of his death in 1957, it was largely Robert Youngson compilations that kept Laurel and Hardy alive in a public's mind, that plus constant exposure of Roach shorts on television. The fanbase cultivated by such revivals has sustained the team since then. Whether or not these DVD releases continue to renew Laurel and Hardy’s following among younger generations remains to be seen.