18 | Sight&Sound | November 2019
By Bryony Dixon
When you are restoring a silent film, you have to
watch scenes over and over and assess the speed
at which the film was shot, so you tend to notice
things like the rate at which people move. Betty
Balfour, star of this year’s BFI archive restoration, is
a firefly; a Tinkerbell. She moves faster than other
actors and uses this restless physicality to underpin
the youthful, bubbly characters she is called upon
to play. Those rapid body movements suggest a
dancer’s training and are slightly reminiscent, to
me anyway, of Chaplin and Mary Pickford, with
whom she is sometimes compared. Her facial
expressions, by contrast, are paced precisely to
be read and understood with complete clarity –
happy, sad, mischievous, furious, compassionate
- a one-woman emoji generator and, of course,
a film director’s dream. With a bright open face,
big eyes and blonde curls she is a perfect package,
thoroughly English, utterly modern. She was
consistently voted favourite female British film star
in press polls in the 1920s; the public adored her.
So did the early film pioneer George Pearson, who
became obsessed with her, proposing multiple
times and directing her in her signature role of
cockney flower girl Squibs. He spotted her in her
first small stage roles and saw to it that she got a
part in Nothing Else Matters (1920); she’s not on
screen for long, but she practically burns a hole in
the celluloid with her wide-eyed gamine stare.
Only a fragment of that performance
remains and many of her subsequent films
are also sadly incomplete, including Love, Life
and Laughter (1923). Long one of the BFI’s most
sought-after lost films, a print was finally found
in the Netherlands in 2014. Dutch cinema-
goers, big fans of Balfour’s character Squibs,
couldn’t quite let her go of her and retained
the character name for the film, rather than
the ‘Tip-Toes’ used in the English version. Love,
Life and Laughter was intended by Pearson
to be edgier than the Squibs series and has a
complicated story-within-a-story structure
for the audience to puzzle out, but after four
outings for the delightful Squibs, the film
followed in much the same vein. Betty plays
a happy-go-lucky working-class chorus girl,
who charms everyone she meets and is in love
with a serious young writer of tragic prose that
no one wants to publish. He lives in the garret
above hers in a slum tenement ruled over by
a sharp-tongued landlady and the hen-pecked
landlord, a balloon seller who is also a bit of a
homespun philosopher: “The ’opes of young
people is like the air in balloons. The more ’ope,
the ’igher you goes. Too much ’ope – bust!”
In one of Pearson’s favourite scenes, as he
explained in a television interview decades
later, a balloon escapes to float up the tall
staircase of the tenement building – an
obvious metaphor for her spirit of optimism
and happiness drifting up to brighten the
writer’s sad existence and a warning to her not
to rise too high. The balloon metaphor was
used extensively in the publicity provided to
exhibitors to promote the film. A sketch of
Tip-Toes in the press book sums up the themes
of the film well, showing her stretched as if
on the surface of a balloon, with ludicrously
long cartoon legs, striding comically across
her home-made music hall stage, practising
for stardom with homemade bunting and
candles in bottles acting as footlights.
From the glimpses we get of her
performances – a kind of Vesta Tilley or Lily
Morris who can entertain equally the nobs
in the stalls and the humbler folk up in the
gods – Tip-Toes is destined for success as a great
music hall star. The writer, meanwhile, unable
to sell his great novel, descends into the hell
of the dosshouse. Much of the more sombre
trajectory of the writer is missing from the
film, so it is difficult to judge its quality, and
we only get fragmentary scenes showing Tip-
Toes earning her success. The missing material
from the Dutch nitrate print discovered by
the Eye Filmmuseum in Amsterdam adds
up to a little over 20 minutes, and has been
filleted in segments from throughout the film
rather than taken as a single reel. It’s difficult
to account for the multiple cuts, although
scenes like the big dance numbers (there
must have been one with Betty) may have
been excised as stock footage or souvenirs,
or may have been damaged in projection.
Happily, there is just enough remaining to get
an idea of the flow of the narrative, including a
few truly captivating scenes, such as Tip-Toes
entertaining her boarding-house chums in a
round-the-piano sing-song with a sprightly
rendition of ‘Yes! We Have No Bananas’. This
replaced ‘Oh! My Sweet Hortense’ (1921)
from the English version (you can lip-read
them singing it, as Antoinette Fawcett, who
translated the titles has pointed out). ‘Yes,
We Have No Bananas!’ was the hit of 1923
when the film came out, so presumably the
film’s distributor in the Netherlands thought
it would boost box-office receipts. With
Betty Balfour as star it hardly needed it.
The mesmerising allure of Betty
Balfour in Love, Life and Laughter,
lost for almost a century, can now be
enjoyed in a sparkling restoration
Taking the stage: Betty Balfour in George Pearson’s Love, Life and Laughter
Love, Life and Laughter (1923)
Betty Balfour is a firefly; a
Tinkerbell. She uses her restless
physicality to underpin the
bubbly characters she plays
THOROUGHLY MODERN BETTY
WIDE ANGLE PRIMAL SCREEN
ILLUSTRATION BY MICK BROWNFIELD WWW.MICKBROWNFIELD.COM
A RT
PRODUCTION
CLIENT
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REPRO OP
VERSION Wide Angle, 3