Bobby is told by a friend, in error, that a bald man will be attempting to serve him a subpoena at his wedding. When a kindly bald-headed man picks up Bobby's dropped marriage license and tries to offer it to him, Bobby runs and hides.


Try picturing a wedding cake hurled like a discus through a stained-glass chapel: that is the kinetic aftertaste of Seven Bald Pates, a 1922 two-reeler that distills Prohibition-era anxiety into pure follicular farce. Scott Darling and Frank Roland Conklin’s screenplay—if one can call such a Rube Goldberg contraptio...

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

William Beaudine

Maurice Campbell
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" Try picturing a wedding cake hurled like a discus through a stained-glass chapel: that is the kinetic aftertaste of Seven Bald Pates, a 1922 two-reeler that distills Prohibition-era anxiety into pure follicular farce. Scott Darling and Frank Roland Conklin’s screenplay—if one can call such a Rube Goldberg contraption a script—takes the universal dread of paperwork and weaponizes it through a single bald noggin. The film trusts the audience to loathe subpoenas as much as hangovers, and from fr..."
Scott Darling, Frank Roland Conklin
United States


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