This silent two-reel comedy from Hal Roach’s fun factory is better known for the talent involved in its production than its contents: character actor James Finlayson has a rare starring role, vaudeville funnyman Ted Healy made his film debut, and Stan Laurel was behind the camera as the director.
Finlayson is a college dean who is appalled at the flapper-style clothing favored by his female students. He orders the female student who also owns the local dress shop to close immediately, and she shares her grief with her boyfriend Napoleon Fizz (Healy), who is in his eleventh year as a college freshman. Napoleon has invented a plaster that can bring youthful vitality to whomever has it applied to their flesh. The crotchety dean winds up with the plaster on his backside and suddenly turns into a jubilant bon vivant who is eager to flirt with the members of the college’s sorority, who get their revenge on the dean for his earlier unpleasantness.
There is an interesting degree of inventiveness throughout “Wise Guys Prefer Brunettes,” particularly in the use of animated stars to illustrate the dean’s descent into youthful recklessness and in a sequence where the dean woos a charming young lady underwater. Healy is a nice surprise – for someone who was famous for his caustic command of snappy dialogue, he is a charming presence and it is a shame that this was his only silent film since he was at ease with the wacky slapstick of the genre.
However, the film’s star billing goes to Helen Chadwick, who plays the dress shop owner. She was pretty but didn’t resonate as the linchpin who held the knockabout story together. This is one of her few silent films that survive – her sound career was relegated to uncredited bit parts, so it is difficult to ascertain what talents she may have possessed.
Also, the production wears out its welcome at the halfway point when it devolves into a slamming door/mistaken identity farce with very obvious results. This is disappointing when one considers the fast and funny first half of this work.
Nonetheless, the short is an interesting curio – especially when one considers that director Laurel went back to acting in a new partnership with Oliver Hardy, bringing Finlayson along as a valued supporting character. Healy, of course, enjoyed stage adn screen stardom in the 1930s via a partnership with three other guys – but I suspect you already know that story.