The teaming of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy was coded with an innocence that few old-school comedy acts could match. Although they shared a set-up similar to that of Abbott and Costello, their antics weren’t quite as aggressively wacky or tinged with malice (until their Fox vehicles, but that’s another review). Theirs was truly a case of the blind leading the blind, with the naïve Stanley pledging unwavering loyalty to straight man Ollie, who rarely knew as much as he let on. This mutual obliviousness worked wonders for making the fine messes they got into come across as funnier and less contrived, perking up what would otherwise have been paper-thin farces such as 1939’s The Flying Deuces. Had the film starred other famous funny folks of the time, it probably wouldn’t have made many waves, and compared to the best of Laurel and Hardy’s own timeless shorts, it isn’t up to snuff. Still, The Flying Deuces remains charming even if it’s not gut-bustingly hilarious, getting a decent amount of mileage out of just being more pleasant than the competition.

Paris. It’s the City of Lights, a cultural epicenter, and among the most romantic locations in the world…but not for one poor slob. Initially smitten with pretty innkeeper’s daughter Georgette (Jean Parker), Ollie (Hardy) finds himself jilted and subsequently at the end of his rope. Despite the reassurances of his best pal Stanley (Laurel), Ollie is convinced that all is lost and resolves to kill himself -- and take his buddy with him, whether he likes it or not. Luckily, the boys are saved from such drastic measures by Francois (Reginald Gardiner), an officer who advises them to forget their woes by signing up for the Foreign Legion (and, unbeknownst to our heroes, is also Georgette’s husband). Sure enough, any thoughts of romance vanish right after they enlist, replaced instead by endless marching, drills, and laundry duty. It doesn’t take long for Stanley and Ollie to want out, and heaven help those who try to stop them, only to get trapped in the whirlwind of chaos they leave behind.

The Flying Deuces arrived at sort of a halfway point in Laurel and Hardy’s silver-screen career. Their glory days in shorts and silent cinema were behind them, and the boys were a few years away from headlining harmless, patriotic comedies like Great Guns and Air Raid Wardens. This picture also casts the gents as soldiers of misfortune, yet the ruckus they raise here is definitely more in service of their selves than of Uncle Sam. The Flying Deuces plays out in proper Laurel and Hardy tradition, with Ollie’s constant delusions of grandeur dragging an unwilling but remarkably adaptable Stan through a large succession of scrapes. On tap for this round of shenanigans are daring prison breaks, suicide attempts gone amusingly awry, and, in a climactic sequence that recalls the ending chase in 1943’s The Dancing Masters, a trip in a runaway airplane. There’s plenty of yelling and physical schtick to go around, but as usual, the film’s quiet moments fare the most successfully at standing out. Watching Stanley patiently look for an open spot on a sea of laundry out to dry that stretches on for an eternity easily earns a heartier laugh than any of the hollering Ollie’s lungs can summon.

A comedy of errors that unfolds with the tomfoolery viewers have come to expect out of its stars, The Flying Deuces really doesn’t deliver much else in the way of surprises. Our story is typically slight and bare-bones, although there’s something to be said about how it commits to keeping Ollie and Georgette away from each other, rather than chicken out and contrive a way for them to end up together. That said, the movie has more than a few moments that could’ve done with better payoff or at least enough added thought so as not to make them feel so inconsequential. While it’s true that Laurel and Hardy are basically playing themselves to start with, their ensuing appeal is more a result of the actors’ doing than how their characters are written. The boys don’t engage in any especially despicable acts, yet there isn’t a whole lot for people to root for them to accomplish. We’re to simply sit back and watch them in a series of humorous skits, some of which have a smoother go at soaring than others. Fortunately, you’re left chuckling more often than not, as precious few gags ever come off as condescending or too hackneyed for the picture’s overall good nature to excuse.

Courtesy of VCI Entertainment, The Flying Deuces has made the jump to high definition, in a Blu-ray package sure to attract Laurel and Hardy aficionados. The movie itself might not be their finest hour (and nine minutes), but its laughs are present all the same, and the disc’s bonus features (which include TV appearances and older shorts) serve as nice little time capsules in their own right. While no major damage is dealt to our sides, the movie’s cheerful disposition helps The Flying Deuces gain a fair deal of altitude.

(The Flying Deuces is available on Blu-ray from VCI Entertainment.)