Loud Soup: A Glorious Mess of Silent Comedy

Alright, so you’re wondering if Loud Soup is worth digging up today? Well, if you like your comedies loud (ironically, for a silent film) and a bit unhinged, then absolutely. Folks who get a kick out of old-school physical gags and the sheer earnestness of 1920s shorts will probably find a lot to love here. But if you need deep plots or dialogue, you might just find yourself a little bored. It’s definitely not for everyone, bless its heart. 🤷‍♀️

The whole thing kicks off with Charley Chase, who just looks perpetually annoyed even before anything bad happens. He’s trying to enjoy a quiet meal, but his domestic life is anything but. There’s a maid, played by Lyle Tayo, who seems to exist just to create problems. And the soup? Oh, the soup. It becomes a central character, almost.

One scene, early on, really stuck with me. Charley’s trying to read the paper at the dinner table, but every little movement from his wife, Vivien Oakland, or the maid, sends a jiggle through the table, making his spoon bounce. He shoots these tiny, *barely perceptible* glances that say everything without a word. It’s classic Chase, that subtle, simmering frustration.

Then the actual soup arrives. It’s not just soup; it’s like a *performance*. The maid brings this massive tureen, steaming like a volcano. You just know it’s going to go wrong, right? And it does. It gets spilled, of course. Not just a little spill, but a proper, cinematic tidal wave of broth across the table. Harry Bernard, who plays some kind of guest, gets the worst of it. His reaction is just a wide-eyed stare, like he’s accepted his soupy fate. 😂

There’s a bit where Charley tries to clean it up with a napkin, and it just makes things worse. The napkin gets saturated, drips everywhere. It’s the kind of moment that goes on just long enough to make you cringe a little, then laugh at the sheer absurdity. You can almost feel the movie saying, “Yep, it’s that bad.”

Bull Montana shows up later, and he’s this big, intimidating presence. He doesn’t have many subtle moves, which is perfect for contrast. He’s all broad gestures and aggressive eating. He adds this whole other layer of chaos to an already messy situation. Like, why is he even there? Who knows! But he sure makes a splash.

The pacing of Loud Soup feels pretty brisk for a silent short. Gags come one after another, building on the last. There isn’t much time to dwell on any one thing, which is good because sometimes these old comedies can feel a bit drawn out. This one keeps moving, even when it’s just Charley chasing a runaway soup bowl across the floor. Yes, that happens. 🥣

I also noticed how often the camera just holds on Charley’s face. He’s a master of the double-take, the slow burn. You see him process the escalating disaster. It’s not about grand gestures all the time; it’s those tiny shifts in his expression that really sell the comedy. Nina Quartero and Syd Crossley are in there too, but honestly, they’re mostly background noise to Charley’s main event.

This film really embraces the *mess*. By the end, the dining room looks like a food fight exploded. It’s not neat, it’s not tidy. It’s just glorious, unadulterated slapstick. It doesn’t try to be clever or profound; it just wants to make you giggle at a guy having a really, really bad lunch.

So, yeah. Loud Soup. It’s a solid little chuckle. Not a masterpiece, but a really enjoyable slice of forgotten cinema. Perfect for a quick watch if you need a dose of pure, unpretentious fun. Just maybe don’t watch it right before you eat. 😅