Max in a taxi (Titel Blatt)

Max in a Taxi

Weitere Titel: Max et son taxi (F) - Regie: Max Linder - Szenario: Max Linder - Länge: (2 Reels) - Interpreten: Max Linder; Marthe Mansfield - Produktion: Essanay - Drehort: Los Angeles - © 16.4.1917 - UA: 23. April 1917 (Chicago/ Pastime) — Weitere Auff.: 19.3.20 (Paris/Salle Marivaux)

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It may be a matter of environment, new associates in his productions, or it may be the atmosphere. Be it what it may, we cannot disabuse our minds of a certain likeness between the longestablished favourite Continental comedian, of the unlimited and faultless wardrobe, and the inimitable little English comedian on whom America has conferred greatness. There is an indescribable likeness between Charlie Chaplin in 'One A.M.' and Max Linder in his latest production, 'Max in a Taxi.' And it is of advantage to both. Either is above slavish copying of method and manner; both are too cleverly original in their work. There is a plot to this farce. Max Linder has an awful night with two boon companions in a restaurant. In the wee sma' hours he courts darkness by trying to blow out the electric candles; he sets fire to the trouser leg of one of his pals, whose feet only are visible above the table, by throwing his cigarette end therein. Volumes of smoke come from that one leg. Max uses a dish cover as a fireman's helmet and a soda syphon as fire hose, and valiantly extinguishes the fire. Failing to find a taxi, the two friends find a horseless cab outside; they find the horse, then Max harnesses it (shades of Will Evans!) the wrong way about and drives off. This is ludicrous; the journey down the long road is a scream. When Max does get home, his parent kicks him out. He has only 2d. in the world, so he buys a paper and reads of a vacancy at a garage. Max can't drive a taxi, but the manager gives him a start. His first fare is a fat lady and her daughter. They recognise Max. The fat lady admires him, and when the starting gear hits Max in the eye, she starts the taxi for him and drives home. Max is happy inside with the girl. Left alone he can't get the car to move, so he sleeps inside. When his friends come out in the morning he tells them he is waiting to drive them shopping. They get in, and then that beastly taxi goes off on its own, runs into a telegraph post, explodes, smashes. Max is suspended on the telegraph wires. The daughter climbs on the fat lady's shoulders and lifts our hero down. The Pyramid is a thing of beauty and a joy for ever. (The Bioscope, 19.7.1917)

Max couldn't drive a taxi, he could not even start it. In consequence, when he was kicked out of home, for spreeing far too much, and he had to go to work for a living, it was entirely due to the particularly stout and eminently clever comedienne lady that the taxi ever moved from the curbstone. Heaps of laughs. Max as mercurial and bright as ever. (The Bioscope, July 19^th 1917)