Believe It or Not #5: A Sleep-Deprived Wonder?

Alright, so if you're into those old-timey, almost vaudeville-style curiosities, the kind of things that made people gasp before the internet, then Believe It or Not #5 might just be a charming little diversion. It's a quick trip back to a simpler time when a bold claim could carry an entire film.

If you prefer a solid plot, character development, or, you know, things that make logical sense, then you'll probably find this a bit silly. It's for the nostalgia junkies and folks who just like seeing *what* used to pass for entertainment. 🤷‍♀️

What Even Is This?

The whole setup is pretty straightforward. Ripley, the man himself, is at some fancy charity bazaar. There's a thousand-dollar bet involved, which even back then was a serious chunk of change. The challenge? Produce a man who hasn't slept in 75 years. And, wouldn't you know it, Ripley just happens to have one tucked away somewhere.

You just gotta wonder how someone even *finds* a person like that. Or, rather, how they frame that story. The film doesn't really get into the specifics, which is part of its charm. It just presents the 'fact' with a sort of confident wink.

• The crowd scenes have this oddly empty feeling, like half the extras wandered off for a tea break.
• Chester Clute as the 'sleepless' man is wonderfully stoic. He really just stands there, which is kinda all he needs to do.

A Bit of a Stretch?

Let's be real, the 'not slept in 75 years' bit is quite the whopper. Even in a 'believe it or not' context, your brain immediately starts doing the math. Like, how old would this guy be? And how exactly does one *verify* such a thing?

The movie doesn't dwell on those inconvenient questions. It just shows you the guy. And you're supposed to be amazed. Which, for a moment, you kinda are, just by the audacity of the claim itself. It’s less about a true fact and more about a Ballyhoo Buster kind of showmanship.

There's a scene where the camera just lingers on Clute's face. No real reaction. Just… *there*. You can almost feel the film trying to convince you this moment matters, trying to imprint the sheer improbability of it all onto your mind.

It’s a peculiar kind of tension, waiting for the man to do something, anything, to prove his unnatural wakefulness. But he doesn't. He just *is*. It’s quite effective, in its own simple way.

The silence starts to feel awkward rather than emotional, but it works for the bizarre nature of the claim.

The pacing is quick, as you'd expect for a short. No time for deep dives into medical impossibilities. Just a presentation, a moment of wonder (or skepticism), and then it's on to the next amazing thing Ripley has up his sleeve, probably. This one doesn't outstay its welcome, which is a blessing.

You get this glimpse into how these segments were put together, how they relied on the audience's willingness to be amazed. It's almost a meta-commentary on media consumption, even back then. We *want* to believe the unbelievable.

Watching it today, it’s less about the 'truth' of the claim and more about the historical artifact itself. It’s a snapshot of what people found captivating, how a simple, outlandish statement could be the entire spectacle. And honestly, there's something charming about that.

It’s not trying to be Gorira; it’s just a little piece of quirky history. A quick, easy watch for a rainy afternoon when you just want to see something truly *different* from the modern stuff.