Now We'll Tell One Review: Charley Chase and the Magic Belt

I ended up watching Now We'll Tell One mostly because I needed something short to fill the gap before dinner. If you like old-school slapstick or you've ever felt like you needed a personality transplant to get through a social event, you'll probably dig this. People who hate 'misunderstanding' humor or scratchy 1930s audio should probably steer clear though.

Charley Chase is the lead here and he's great at playing the guy who is constantly apologising for existing. He has this way of looking at the camera like he's asking the audience to help him out of a hole he dug himself. It's a bit like the energy in Puppy Days but with more grown-up anxiety.

The whole plot is based on this 'personality belt' invented by a guy who looks like he hasn't slept since the silent era. Charley puts it on by mistake—of course he does—and the rest of the movie is just him oscillating between being a mouse and a lion. It’s a very simple gag, but they milk it for everything it’s worth.

The dinner party scene is where the movie actually lives. You can see the extras in the background looking genuinely confused, which I think might not have been acting. There's this one woman, Muriel Evans, who is trying so hard to keep a straight face while Charley is basically vibrating next to her.

One specific moment got me—Charley is trying to be polite with some soup, then the belt clicks, and he suddenly becomes this aggressive alpha male. He doesn't just change his tone; his whole face shifts. He has this very expressive chin that seems to grow an inch when he's being 'brave'.

I noticed that the lighting in the dining room is weirdly dark on one side. It looks like one of the lamps died and they just decided to keep filming anyway. It adds to that 'we shot this in two days' feeling that I actually kind of miss in modern stuff.

Some of the jokes go on about thirty seconds too long. Like, we get it, he's acting weird now. You can almost feel the director behind the camera waving his arms to keep the scene going. It reminds me of the pacing in Hold 'er Sheriff where things just keep happening until they don't.

The sound is... well, it’s 1932. It sounds like everyone is talking through a tin can filled with gravel. But Billy Franey and the rest of the cast have such big faces that you don't really need to hear every word to get the joke. Slapstick is universal like that.

I kept thinking about how much better this is than some of the 'prestige' shorts of the era. It doesn't try to be art. It just wants to show you a man losing his mind because of his wardrobe choices. It's way more entertaining than sitting through a dry drama like The Warning if you're just looking to kill twenty minutes.

Things I jotted down:

• The inventor's lab looks like it’s made of cardboard and wishful thinking.
• Charley’s reaction to the belt first turning on is priceless—he looks like he’s been electrocuted by a ghost.
• There is a lot of pointing. People in 1932 really liked pointing at things they found strange.
• The ending is super abrupt, like they literally ran out of money mid-scene.
• Muriel Evans has the best 'I'm done with this' eyes in the business.

Is it a masterpiece? No. Is it better than most of the stuff I find on late-night TV? Absolutely. It has this frantic, slightly broken rhythm that keeps you watching just to see how much more embarrassed Charley can get. It’s much more lively than something like King Lear, that's for sure.

I also spotted Baldwin Cooke in the background of one shot looking very serious for no reason. It’s those little details, like the slightly wrinkled tablecloths and the actors waiting for their cues, that make these Hal Roach shorts feel human. They weren't making 'cinema,' they were making lunch money, and it shows in a good way.

If you've got a short attention span and a soft spot for guys in high-waisted pants falling over, give it a go. Just don't expect the plot to make any sense after the first ten minutes. It’s just a series of escalations that ends with everyone being mad at Charley, which is pretty much his entire career in a nutshell.

I might watch it again, but only if I'm showing someone how weird early talkies could be. It’s definitely a vibe. A weird, shaky, belt-driven vibe.