

Best of all, they maintained a direct relationship with the audience. What Laurel and Hardy had was great chemistry their slapstick and wordplay routines remain timeless, putting Abbott and Costello to shame. Nor did they have Harold Lloyd’s humanism that, by merely following the desires of the everyman, found him in oodles of trouble. They didn’t have the large-scale technical virtuosity of Buster Keaton, whose stone-faced presence performed some of the most incredible stunt-gags ever captured on film.

They didn’t have the sublime artistry or obsessive creative control of Charlie Chaplin, whose independently made Little Tramp pictures showcased his loveable scamp in hilarious but also heartrending situations. Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy may occupy the fourth-rung of vaudeville comedians to become stars of the silver screen, but that shouldn’t dimish their genius.
