
The first time I watched Ain’t Love Grand? I thought my projector had hiccupped its sprockets into another dimension. One moment Al St. John is tip-toeing across a tightrope of laundry lines, trousers fluttering like surrender flags; the next, the frame hiccups, the iris blooms, and suddenly we’re inside a boxing ri...

still_frame


Comparing the cinematic DNA and archive impact of two defining moments in cult history.

Al St. John

Lloyd Ingraham
Community
Log in to comment.
" The first time I watched Ain’t Love Grand? I thought my projector had hiccupped its sprockets into another dimension. One moment Al St. John is tip-toeing across a tightrope of laundry lines, trousers fluttering like surrender flags; the next, the frame hiccups, the iris blooms, and suddenly we’re inside a boxing ring where the bell is a wedding cake and the referee a walrus in spats. Silent-era comedies are no strangers to dream logic, but this 1921 one-reel wonder—long thought lost until a..."


Deep dive into the cult classic
Discover similar cinematic experiences
A Directorial Spotlight on Al St. John