The Last Laugh
The old man (Emil Jennings) had spent many, proud years as a doorman at a prestigious hotel. He loved his work, which gave him stature over those in his poor neighborhood. One day, his boss sees him drinking on the job while on break. The next day, he has been demoted to being a washroom attendant. So shattered is he that, in a memorable sequence, he has to have his uniform stripped off from him by others, all the while he wears a look of disbelief and despair.
In his “Great Movies” review of F.W. Murnau’s “The Last Laugh,” the late Roger Ebert doesn’t mention that the doorman was seen drinking by his boss, only that he is seen to have difficulty with bringing a trunk down from the top of a car. That is true, as well. Which one had more of an effect on his demotion? The combination of shots Murnau uses suggests that the drinking had more of a negative effect, even though the doorman does have a raincoat on, thus not allowing us (or anyone else) to see his uniform, but the point isn’t what led to the doorman’s demotion, only that he is demoted. It is that action that drives the story, which takes us inside the doorman’s psyche to show his sadness, and bruised ego, at having been unceremoniously removed from a job he loved for years, and was happy doing.
Murnau’s great film is made especially poignant to watch during the tough, economic times of today, when millions of people have lost hope after similar reversals of fortune, many times at jobs where they worked for years, only to be let go, or forced into retirement by circumstance. Particularly painful for me is watching how the old man, unable to accept his circumstances, steals a doorman’s uniform for the purposes of keeping up appearances in his neighborhood, and forced to hide it in a train station locker, since he, of course, cannot be seen at the hotel wearing it. Pride is a particular theme in this film, and as Murnau shows, quite movingly, it has consequences, especially when the man’s mother-in-law comes to see him at work, only to discover the truth.
This is a heartbreaking story, although much of the discussion is focused on the technical side of the film. Justly so. Murnau and his cinematographer, Karl Freund, free the camera from its static placement in most silent films, and use it to allow us right into the mind of its main character, and to experience how he sees his life as it unravels into a series of devastating moments and humiliations. Watch the sequence when the doorman comes home, still in his stolen uniform, after his neighbors have learned the truth. The sequence is painful, tragic, and emotional, especially when he tries to see his wife, and must suffer the indignity of finding her at her parent’s apartment, after which he returns to the hotel, and reluctantly returns the uniform to the night watchman on duty, and goes to his seat in the washroom.
After that sequence, Murnau does something inexplicable. Understanding that he has found the natural ending of his story, Murnau nonetheless adds a remarkable coda, in which the old man inherits a fortune through unlikely chance. Murnau prefaces the sequence by admitting as much in a title card, the only one in the movie, in which he acknowledges both the natural conclusion of his story, along with the absurdity of what is to come. The scene rings completely false, but how ingenious of Murnau to get ahead of the critics by acknowledging how shamefully romantic he is being. (Most filmmakers who use the narrative device known as “Deus Ex Machina,” or “God in the Machine,” aren’t so considerate of their audience’s intelligence.)
Shamelessly invented ending aside, “The Last Laugh” is a silent masterpiece from Murnau, who preceded it with his landmark horror film, “Nosferatu,” and followed it with other classics, still unseen by me, such as “Faust” and “Sunrise,” which continued his bold experimentation with the medium, just before sound would be merged with it forever. He didn’t work much in the sound era before his death in 1931, but even if he had, one suspects his great, silent films, including “The Last Laugh,” would be the ones people would remember him best for anyway.
