Max and the Lady Doctor (Max et la doctoresse, 1909)

You can be a young silent film enthusiast and never have heard of Max Linder, but you will eventually discover him and odds are you’ll be a fan forever.

As this film opens we are told that “Max has fallen in love with a lady doctor,” (Lucy d'Orbel, who appeared in a dozen Linder comedies between this one, her first, and Max Asthmatique in 1915) and we see him pacing nervously in front of her office. Should he tell her? Can he tell her? He rehearses what he wants to say, then decides to slip a note under her door. “Madame, rescue a desperate lover and agree to a Rendez-vous as soon as possible. Max” As he considers whether or not this will do the trick, she enters the frame, striding across the lobby and entering her office. Frustrated with his own lack of resolve, Max rips the note to shreds and decides instead to feign illness and see her that way.

When she’s finally ready for the examination, his jitters continue. He removes his topcoat and describes his symptoms. She holds his hand to take his pulse and he begins to melt. He puckers up, apparently describing something wrong with his face, but every time she reaches to his chin, he laughs and pulls away. He points to his tummy and makes a zipper motion. She pulls his coat across his shoulders to gain better access to his stomach. She touches his ribs and he breaks out into uncontrollable laughter and steps back. This continues, her touch causing him to react like a silly, giggling school girl.

Despite it all, Max woos her, wins her, and weds her. But on their wedding night, she is called away to emergencies three times—but on the third occasion, the frustrated groom chases the message bearer out of the room before he can say a word.

One year later. Now the waiting room is filled with young men, all eager to take their coats and vests off for an examination. Enter Max carrying a baby. Paul Merton has pointed out that babies in early comedies are frequently used a props, and this one is no different. When Max peeks into the examination room and sees his wife leaning against a man’s back so as to hear his breathing from the rear, he gives the baby to one of the supposedly ill patients and breaks up the medical session. He chases all his wife’s hypochondriac admirers out of the office, barely remembering to retrieve the infant.

Linder is a superb pantomimist, using his face, hands and body to express his emotions without playing too broadly. While much early comedy relied on banana peels and kicks on the butt, Linder presents us with a one act play suggested by real life. The characters are recognizable people and not grotesques or zanies, and the action flows from one scene to the next. It’s a nice, full package in one reel.

 But the most surprising element of the film is the adult nature of the situation. When Max is being examined it is clear that his giggling reaction to being touched around his ribs soon gives way to a frustrated urge to touch hers, and not just to play doctor. His sexual tension only increases as he doesn’t even get to kiss her on their wedding night. He does at last—after all, there is a baby—but he’s damned if he’s going to allow other men to get their ribs tickled, too.

Linder wrote and directed his films, and so good was he, Chaplin called him "the professor." The character of Max is the perfect boulevardier—well-dressed, jaunty, in love, like a young Maurice Chevalier. As a character, he's hard to resist. Don’t bother to try.