Call a Cop

A slapstick kaleidoscope of civic chaos, Call a Cop detonates the quiet sidewalks of a nameless city into a cyclone of truncheons, bowler hats, and runaway baby carriages. Mack Sennett’s gag-writing syndicate flings a gaggle of incompetent flatfoots—led by the granite-jawed Kalla Pasha and rubber-limbed Eddie Gribbon—into a single frantic shift that spirals from a routine purse-snatching to a municipal Armageddon involving anarchist bombs, lovesick debutantes, and a parade of circus elephants. Every street corner breeds a fresh catastrophe: a pickpocket disguised as a nun, a flirtatious Marie Prevost who mistakes a bomb for a hatbox, and a ladder that doubles as a marital battle-axe. The film’s comic tempo accelerates like a steam locomotive with a lit fuse, culminating in a Keystone-style tribunal where the entire cast is tried for “excessive buffoonery.” Beneath the custard-pie mayhem lies a sardonic postcard from Prohibition-era America, lampooning the sacred cow of law enforcement while celebrating the beautiful futility of order in a world wired for pratfalls.