Review: Slapstick Silent Comedy Gala 2026, Bristol Beacon

With a madman in the White House and our own government seemingly imploding, the world has never been more in need of a good larf. Bristol continues to do its bit with the annual Slapstick Festival, the centrepiece of which is this splendid gala, which sees a full house gather to enjoy a cathartic guffaw at comedy made more than a century ago.

Some people make the effort to dress up for the Slapstick Gala.

Festival founder Chris Daniels receives a well-deserved round of applause for keeping the show on the road for 21 years. As usual, it’s a gala of two halves. The first bit comprises three shorts, introduced by host Stephen Mangan – who mercifully spares us the “reading out the Wikipedia entries” approach favoured  by certain of his predecessors and seems genuinely knowledgeable and enthused about the films and guest musicians.

Slapstick host Stephen Mangan

First up is the Laurel and Hardy Hal Roach short Leave ’Em Laughing, expertly accompanied by the European Silent Screen Virtuosi, who don’t miss a cue. Made at a time when a visit to the dentist was a profoundly painful experience and there were laughs to be had from driving while intoxicated, it’s a wonderful time capsule of mirth that soon has the packed audience shaking with laughter.

Next is the 1921 Buster Keaton two-reeler The Boat, skilfully accompanied by prog god Rick Wakeman, which sees Old Stonface take his family (wife, two kids) on a seafaring adventure where everything that could possibly go wrong promptly does. Packed with brilliantly executed sight gags, with a particularly inspired revolving boat set, it’s a timeless classic that’s as funny today as it was more than a century ago. Rick sticks around to tell a funny story about the time he lived down the road from Charlie Chaplin in Switzerland, then enjoys a slapstick moment himself when he seemingly can’t find his way off the Beacon stage – much to Stephen Mangan’s amusement.

Stephen Mangan and Rick Wakeman share some anecdotage

Then there’s a real treat in the form of the premiere of Bob Cryer’s crowdfunded Joke, which brings to life a selection of his late father Barry’s favourite gags, with a suitably stellar cast. Barry was, of course, a great friend of Slapstick, where he would often joke about his advanced age, and he’d have been gratified to find that Joke received the biggest belly laughs of the evening, even though we were very familiar with most of the gags.

The Sing Out Bristol Choir crowd onto the Beacon stage

After a break, it’s time for Chaplin’s first feature as writer, director and star: The Kid. He even composed the music, which is performed live on stage by the Bristol Ensemble, conducted by Guenter A. Buchwald. First, however, the Sing Out Bristol choir crowd the stage to for an excellent performance of  Chaplin’s composition Smile (from Modern Times).

Jackie Coogan and Charlie Chaplin in ‘The Kid’, ably accompanied by the Bristol Ensemble

As Mangan reminds us in his introduction, The Kid marked Chaplin’s progression from straightforward sight gags to more emotional storytelling as his Little Tramp becomes this initially unwilling guardian of a small boy (Jackie Coogan, betraying not a hint of the bruiser he was to become). The scenes where Charlie kisses and innocently shares a bed with the boy would not be permitted in these paedo-alert times, but are genuinely innocent in the context of the film, which risks long gag-free sections and incorporates a surreal climactic ‘dreamland’ sequence featuring a suitably bewildered looking flying dog.

And with that we’re disgorged back into the outside world, where things are funny for all the wrong reasons.

All photographs by David Betteridge