Mr. Flip (1909)

May 12, 1909—perhaps the most significant date in the history of American motion pictures. Well, comedy pictures, anyway. Okay, silent comedy. Silent slapstick comedy.

What happened? And how long can I stretch the suspense? Not much longer. I sense some annoyance in you already.

May 12, 1909, was the release date of a farce called Mr. Flip, which starred the gentleman pictured above, Ben Turpin. It was directed by Gilbert M. “Bronco Billy” Anderson and produced by The Essanay Film Manufacturing Company.

Star Turpin wasn’t yet the household name he would be a decade later with his one and two reel send-ups of feature dramas for Mac Sennett (The Shriek of Araby, Uncle Tom Without a Cabin, etc.) A former tramp and burlesque comic, the 40-year old Turpin would become famous for his permanently crossed eyes and walrus mustache. Mr. Flip was his 14th film and one of 11 he made in 1909.

And the four minute film is important because … ? Well, see for yourself.

Mr. Flip is one of those aggravating men who think they are far more charming that the law should allow. He flows from scene to scene wearing a snappy boater, high collar, oversized boutonneire, and Groucho-esque mustache. He can’t keep his hands off any woman he meets, constantly tapping their shoulders as if in an everlasting game of tag. Sometimes, he even moves in for a cuddle or a kiss.

His first victim is a lady store clerk. He sees her, tips his hat, and immediately begins to harass her. She is finally rescued by a male employee who swoops through pushing a dolly, with which he scoops up the offending Flip and carts him away. Yes, this is the first movie in which someone is Flipped off, but there’s more to it than that.

The would-be ladies’ man then visists a manicurist and gives her the same treatment. This time, when she stands up, he does likewise and leaning over the table, clasps her in an uninvited embrace and starts kissing her. While he is upright, the second manicurist forces some pointed scissors up through the came seat of his chair, and when he goes to sit down he receives a butt-punture. He rushes away leaving the two women in gales of laughter.

Next, he torments a telephone operator. When she reacts in anger, he tries to sooth her by stepping away and into a phone booth. Notice the gaff when at one point his elbow passes through the glassless window in the booth’s door. To get her revenge, the operator begins pushing a button under her console, apparently sending electrical shocks into Flip.

The fourth victim is a lady barber, who receives the same business as have the first three women. She finally gets a sister-barber to hold Flip in his chair while his face is covered in lather and soapy brushes are shoved into his mouth.

The penultimate gal to suffer through Flip’s caveman act is a lady bartender. She and the other distaff gin slinger on duty, along with a male toper standing by, spritz Flip with seltzer and chase him away.

By now, Mr. Flip has become an unexpectedly strong feminist statement. Women are store clerks, barbers and bartenders, occupations many of us today would not have considered employments for Edwardian ladies. Seeing them outwit and conquer their harasser, usually without male assistance, is also surprising. Even when men step in to help, it isn’t because the women appear to need them.

Flip’s last stop of the day is a lunch counter, where the counter girl reacts to him as if he were an octopus. Finally, she reaches down and picks up—

Do you see it coming?

—a pie which she pushes and grinds into his face.

And that is the first pie-in-the-face gag in American silent film slapstick.

Salud!