Making Whoopee Review: A Curious Relic That’s Kinda Sweet

Alright, so Making Whoopee. If you're looking for a blockbuster, or even a film with a plot you can neatly summarize, just skip this one. Seriously. But, if you're the type who gets a kick out of digging into old, *really old*, movies, especially silent comedies, then yeah, maybe give it a shot. It's not going to blow your mind, but it has this particular charm. Folks who appreciate the earnestness of early cinema, the kind where actors are still figuring out what to do with their hands, will find something here. Everyone else? Probably going to find it a bit of a snooze. 😴

The whole thing feels a bit like a fever dream, honestly. There's a lot of running around, some flailing, and plenty of wide-eyed stares. It’s hard to pin down what the actual *goal* of any character is, most of the time. But that's kind of its own thing, isn't it? A chaotic ballet of sorts.

Estelle Bradley, she’s got this incredible way of looking utterly baffled, like she’s just wandered onto the set by accident. Her eyebrows do a lot of the heavy lifting for emoting. There’s one bit where she tries to catch a falling hat, and it just keeps slipping. She’s trying so hard, you almost want to reach into the screen and help her. It’s endearing, that little struggle. 😊

Then you have Harold Goodwin, who seems to be playing the perpetually exasperated fellow. He spends a surprising amount of time adjusting his tie, even in moments of high drama. Like, the world is falling apart, but that tie *must* be straight. It makes you wonder what’s going on in his head. Or maybe just the director told him to do it, who knows?

The pacing is… well, it’s a silent film from this era. Some scenes linger a tad too long on someone opening a door, while others cut away before you even grasp what just happened. There’s a scene where Ella McKenzie, all playful grins, tries to sneak a piece of cake. The camera just holds on her, *waiting* for her to do something. You can almost feel the movie holding its breath with her. And when she finally gets it, the triumph in her eyes is just perfect. Such a small, silly moment, but it sticks.

Richard Neill pops up here and there, mostly as a sort of stern-faced obstacle. He doesn’t say much, obviously, but his disapproving glares are quite effective. He’s the buzzkill, the one who just wants everyone to settle down. He has this one specific way of crossing his arms that just screams, **“I am not amused.”** It’s almost comical in its seriousness.

There are these brief, almost blink-and-you-miss-it shots of a dog just wandering through the background of a few scenes. Not doing anything important, just… there. It adds a weird, unplanned realism to it all. Like, maybe the dog just lived in the studio. Or maybe it was a very talented extra.

The title, Making Whoopee, suggests a certain exuberance, and while there are moments of slapstick and general merriment, it also has these odd lulls. Times when you just see people standing around, looking at each other, almost like they forgot their lines. It’s kinda fascinating, actually. Not in a profound way, just in a, “huh, that’s a choice,” kind of way.

Overall, it’s a peculiar little film. It’s got that raw, unpolished energy of a bygone era. It's not a must-see, not by a long shot. But if you're in the mood for something truly different, something that demands a different kind of patience, then it's a curious watch. It's got heart, even if it's a bit clumsy. And those eyebrows of Estelle Bradley? **Unforgettable.**