starring Raymond Griffith and Vera Reynolds
August, 1925

"The Night Club is another amusing vehicle for Raymond Griffith, who appears to be steadily growing in popularity. This follows along the Mack Sennett trail, even to having a troupe of bathing girls. It is the story of a woman-hater who must marry a certain girl to acquire a fortune left by an uncle. Broad, slapstick stuff, but funny in many places. Vera Reynolds was a great help to my viewing of the comedy, I must add. Vera can certainly cheer a hard-working reviewer.

starring Raymond Griffith, Vera Reynolds, Wallace Beery and Louise Fazenda
August, 1925

"The Night Club" is called "The Night Club" just to put a flaw in an otherwise good picture. The title has nothing to do with the story which was taken from William de Mille's play, "After Five." It is a rollicking slapstick comedy with Raymond Griffith, Vera Reynolds, and Louise Fazenda. The night I saw it the audience screamed with joy every time Mr. Griffith had a bad fall, and there were many of them. He fell in every conceivable way almost all the time, and it was fine.

Left at the altar by a beautiful blonde, he vows never to look at another girl as long as he lives, when one of those eccentric uncles who used to be so plentiful in stories, dies and leaves him a fortune and a fiancée. He takes the fortune and refuses the fiancée until he sees her. After that everything happens. Bulls chase people, automobiles tear up and down stairs and slide backward down hills, but in the final reel Mr. Griffith lands on his feet and all ends well.

I loved it. The rougher the comedy the better, I say. Of course, Mr. Griffith doesn't have to fall to be funny. He just is. But he does fall so well that it seems a shame to put a stop to it. Not only that, but he is the living proof to the claim that a person can be good looking and not be a sap.

Vera Reynolds was made to play in comedies, and Louise Fazenda does well as La Belle Carmencita, the wonderful kid from Madrid.

And now just one little word before we leave this picture. Lately the theaters, the New York theaters anyway, have been hiding the two-reel comedies and showing quaint canals on old Brugese instead, and I, for one, protest against it. I won't be fooled that way. Someone in a funny hat and mustache that slips is dearer to me any day than any colored tulip that ever opened slowly before my disgusted eyes.

Video source: Facets

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