Hallo! Afrika forude! — A Whimsical Journey to Yesteryear
So, is
Hallo! Afrika forude! worth digging up today? Well, if you're a serious silent film buff or someone with a soft spot for the specific brand of early Danish comedy, then absolutely. For everyone else, especially those who need quick cuts and constant dialogue, this one might feel like watching paint dry. It’s a curious piece of history, if nothing else.
First off, let's talk about the Pat and Patachon duo, Carl Schenstrøm and Harald Madsen. They’re the real reason to check this out. Their physical comedy is just _so_ precise, even if the pacing around them feels like it’s set to a snail’s gallop sometimes.
There’s this one scene, quite early on, where Patachon tries to pack his suitcase. He keeps pulling out these impossibly long items – a fishing rod, then a tuba, then what looks like a garden rake. The gag goes on for a solid minute, maybe more. You know it’s coming, but the _commitment_ to the bit is still pretty funny. 😂
And the *faces*! Oh, the faces these two make. Pat’s wide-eyed bewilderment and Patachon’s grumpy determination really carry a lot of the story. You don't need intertitles half the time, just their expressions. It’s a masterclass in silent acting, really.
The 'Africa' part of the title is, well, _of its time_. The sets for the African jungle scenes are clearly painted backdrops and a few potted palms. It’s charmingly fake, almost like a stage play more than a film. You can’t help but chuckle at the sheer simplicity of it all.
One moment that stuck with me: there's a leopard, obviously a guy in a suit, that *attacks* them. The way Patachon fumbles with his rifle, dropping it multiple times, while Pat tries to fend off the 'beast' with a tiny umbrella, it's just pure, unadulterated slapstick. The stunt work, for what it is, is quite good. They really throw themselves around.
The film print itself, at least the version I saw, had all these lovely little quirks. Scratches, jumps in the footage, a softness around the edges. It makes you feel like you’re truly watching something from another era. It’s not pristine, and that’s part of its charm.
Some of the secondary characters, like the pompous explorer type, are a bit one-note. But they exist mostly to set up gags for Pat and Patachon, so it’s fine. Their reactions to the main duo’s antics are often worth a look, though.
There’s a chase scene through what’s supposed to be a village. The same few huts get passed multiple times. You can almost feel the director thinking, “Okay, let’s get another 30 seconds out of this sequence.” It’s oddly hypnotic, watching them loop around. The crowd scenes have this oddly empty feeling, like half the extras wandered off.
What’s truly _fascinating_ is how much effort went into making these simple stories back then. It wasn’t just point and shoot. There’s a definite craft, even if it feels incredibly slow by today’s standards. It’s like watching an old clockwork toy in action.
Do keep an eye out for a particularly enthusiastic ostrich prop. It just sort of… appears, and then disappears. A strange little detail that adds nothing to the plot but everything to the film’s quirky vibe.
So, if you’re up for a deep dive into the silent era, especially for a taste of Danish comedy that feels both universal and very specific, give
Hallo! Afrika forude! a try. Just remember to adjust your internal clock. It’s a slow burn, but there are definitely some genuine laughs if you let it wash over you.
