That sense of loss is an acute quality in Speedy, which belies its otherwise upbeat tone and essential optimism (which was typical of Lloyd’s comedies, as opposed to the melancholy of Chaplin and the irony of Buster Keaton). The plot is predicated on the old ways of life being shoved aside in favor of the speed and efficiency of modernity, in this case a horse-drawn streetcar owned and run by Pop Dillon (Bert Woodruff). Pop is the grandfather of Jane (Ann Christy), who is the sweetheart of Lloyd’s Harold “Speedy” Swift. We learn at the beginning of the film that Pop’s is the last horse-drawn streetcar still operating in New York, and while it is much beloved by those in the “old-fashioned corner of the city” where he lives and works (Greenwich Village, although it is never explicitly named), a railroad company run by the nefarious Steve Carter (Brooks Benedict) wants to take over the track. The problem is that they can’t as long as Pop runs the streetcar at least once every 24 hours.

Speedy, who is defined by both his inability to hold a job (at various points he works as a soda jerk and a taxi cab driver) and his obsession with the Yankees, decides to help Pop out, partially because Jane won’t marry him until she feels confident that her grandfather’s business is secure. This puts the unassuming Speedy on a collision course with the uglier side of American business, as Steve hatches a plot to use a group of thugs to steal the streetcar and thus keep it from running. Speedy mobilizes all the neighborhood geezers, who like to use the streetcar at night for a clubhouse, and they end up fighting a raucous brawl with Steve’s thugs in the middle of the street using everything at their disposal. The neighborhood’s protectiveness of the streetcar is a clever portrait of the old ways of life standing up against the new, just as it is a celebration of the diversity that defines the “melting pot” ideals of immigrant America, with men of Italian, Jewish, and Chinese descent all coming together to fight for a common cause. The streetfight is the highlight of the film, and modern viewers may be surprised at how nasty the comic violence gets, as one man puts a nail in his wooden leg to kick people and a Chinese launderer shows up near the end with a steaming hot iron to brand people on the seat of their pants.

Much of the film’s comedy, however, is of a more genial variety. There is an extended sequence in which Speedy takes Jane to Coney Island, where they indulge in all the rides, carnival games, and food they can manage (the montage of them eating, eating, and eating some more will be particularly affecting to those like myself who have overeaten at a fair). Shot primarily on location at Coney Island, the sequence has a bustling sense of liveliness and fun, and it is strung together with several running gags, including one involving a crab in Speedy’s pocket that keeps pinching people and another that has Speedy’s brand new suit getting slowly ruined. There is also a fantastic sequence on a crowded subway car that features several quick-thinking gags that Speedy employs to procure a seat for Jane. Even though his actions are fundamentally roguish in the way they trick others out of their seats, it is all in the noble service of being gentlemanly toward his girlfriend.

And that is what makes Lloyd’s comedies so appealing and so consistently enjoyable. They lack the social depth and political wit of Chaplin’s best films and the choreographed deadpan brilliance of Keaton’s, but they are in their own way both more genial and more genuine. Lloyd’s glasses character is imminently relatable and likeable, and he rejects social norms with just enough candor to earn respect (when he realizes that he will lose his job because he failed to deliver a bouquet of roses at one point, instead of madly trying to fix the problem he just sighs, buys a newspaper, and starts checking the want ads). Speedy is a bit of a nonconformist, not because he’s politically aware, but simply because he lives so much inside his own head that most of the world doesn’t matter to him. All he cares about are Jane and the Yankees, especially Babe Ruth, who makes an extended cameo appearance midway through the film when he takes a terrifying taxi cab ride with Speedy at the wheel.

Speedy was directed by Ted Wilde, who had conscripted several of Lloyd’s earlier features, including Girl Shy (1924) and The Freshman and co-directed Lloyd’s then-most recent film The Kid Brother (1927). He orchestrates the sight gags and physical humor with a journeyman’s effectiveness; there is nothing overtly showy about the film, nor should there be. Lloyd was the biggest star in Hollywood at the time, and he holds the screen with his amiable presence. As with all Lloyd comedies, all’s well that ends well, and Speedy manages to tie up all its problems with a hectic chase through midtown New York as Speedy races the horse-drawn carriage back to its track to save Pop’s business. And, while the chase doesn’t feature the level of hair-raising stunts that Lloyd had become famous for (it was he, after all, who dangled from the sides of those buildings in Safety Last!, or at least appeared to), it has a comic intensity that we can recognize as a particularly modern cinematic form that helped pave the way for the contemporary action film. That it was all shot on location in the Big Apple, with real crowds of onlookers and police officers managing traffic, makes it that much better.

Copyright ©2015 James Kendrick

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