Book Review: In Search of Lost Films by Phil Hall

Usually this space is reserved for the latest books on film history, but I just acquired this one from 2016 and believed its importance deserved some discussion.

“In Search of Lost Films” by Phil Hall was released by Bear Manor Media, and covers the maddeningly elusive areas of cinema that continue to thwart further study. Hall discusses the most famous examples, such as Lon Chaney’s “London After Midnight” and the pivotal Laurel and Hardy silent “Hats Off” with a new level of detail not usually found in other books where either film is mentioned.

Hall points out how Lon Chaney is considered one of the founders of the horror movie genre, due to his masterful makeup technique, but that very few of his many silent films were truly of that genre. His lost feature “London After Midnight” has intrigued those interested in horror movie history, general film historians, and fans and students of Chaney’s work. It is considered perhaps the first Hollywood movie about vampirism, and Hall gives as much information as can be had on this subject, including quotes from an interview with Chaney expert Jon Mirsales.

Laurel and Hardy’s comedy short “Hats Off” is said to be a blueprint to their 1932 Oscar winning three-reeler “The Music Box.” It also comes at a time in their careers where their inimitable relationship on screen was being defined and further honed. Thus its status as a pivotal two-reel comedy. The way “Hats Off” might have gotten lost, according to Laurel and Hardy expert Richard Bann, is quite an intriguing story. What is even more intriguing is that no footage at all has turned up on the film as late as the 21st century. This important Laurel and Hardy comedy remains completely lost with no trace, despite great efforts from film archivists.

Silent movie comedians Raymond Griffith and Lloyd Hamilton were popular stars at one time, but their names have only lived on among film historians and scholars due to so little of their work having survived. Griffith is, at the very least, represented by what is probably his best film, “Hands Up!” But a fire that destroyed several films in a vault was instrumental in limiting our ability to better appreciate Lloyd Hamilton’s work. Of the small percentage of his surviving films, many are from the period where the tall actor was teamed with the diminutive Bud Duncan for the wild slapstick of Ham and Bud. His later, more refined comedies are only randomly accessible, and what exists is especially impressive. Some have argued that Hamilton might be more generally considered among the top comics of his time if more of his work was available.

Hall also goes into detail about the footage from MGM’s classic “The Wizard of Oz,” indicating that none of the footage originally shot by Richard Thorpe appears to exist. This was a different approach to what we know, with Judy Garland wearing a blonde wig, and Buddy Ebsen playing The Tin Man. Of course most of us know the story about Ebsen having to leave the film due to an allergic reaction to the makeup used, and Jack Haley replacing him. But Hall’s book goes into further detail, with information this writer had not realized (It is Ebsen’s voice singing “We’re Off To See The Wizard” with Garland, Ray Bolger, and Bert Lahr. Haley is just lip syncing along, without appearing on that part of the soundtrack).

As a long time Beatle fan (since 1963, no less) I was almost ashamed of not realizing that an entire scene from the Fab Four’s movie “Help!” was cut before release. English comedian Frankie Howerd appears, along with Wendy Richard, later noted for the TV shows “Are You Being Served” and “EastEnders.” Apparently director Richard Lester felt the scene didn’t work because while Howerd was very exacting his comedy, being letter perfect in his lines and carefully rehearsing very nuance, The Beatles winged-it, stoned on pot, and taking little seriously. This caused a conflict that was evident on screen. Wendy enjoyed the experience but was cut from the film, having appeared only in that scene.

Much more information is offered in this book about more lost films from the silent era, the elusive features from the Charlie Chan movie series, missing footage from noted classics like Magnificent Ambersons, and other detailed accounts that makes this book as informative as it is entertaining.

Hall happily concludes his study with an annotated list of films that were long considered lost and have since turned up. One of this reviewer’s favorite instances involves film historian Paul Gierucki picking up a film marked Keystone from a Michigan rummage sale, screening it at home, and discovering it to be a heretofore unknown Charlie Chaplin appearance in which he plays a Keystone Cop. Other such discoveries include the long lost Three Stooges color film “Hello Pop,” which was found in an Australian garden shed in 2013, Carl Theodore-Dryer’s “The Passion of Joan of Arc” which was discovered in the closet of a Norwegian mental institution, and John Casssavetes’ “Shadows,” which turned up in the lost and found department of the New York City subway system.

“In Search of Lost Films” is an extremely important book that offers a lot of information on many films where little had previously been available. It is a most highly recommended book for libraries and research centers, and something anyone interested in film history would certainly like to read.

The book is available at this link: Lost Films Book