Shawn Hall Anyone even slightly familiar with the silent era knows of the staggering amount of films lost to time, either through carelessness, accident, or cost-cutting measures. Less discussed are the dozens and dozens of surviving films extant but unavailable for public viewing, hoarded by a private collector or locked behind copyright or donor restrictions in an archive. The 1927 comedy Almost Human is one of many such films, just waiting for someone to come around and share it.
I recently had the chance to watch Almost Human here in Los Angeles. On campus at the Powell Library, the UCLA Film and Television Archive provides researchers, students, and the public with viewing stations to watch the films preserved in the archive. I emailed several weeks ahead of time, looking for several films produced by the DeMille Picture Corporation that the archive has copies of.
After I checked in at the UCLA Library, the staff inserted a copy of the film transferred onto VHS and ushered me into a cozy room with a small round table, a couple of chairs, and a medium-sized TV monitor. Unfortunately, the Archive and Research Study Center strictly forbids any pictures, video, or audio recordings; otherwise, I’d be able to bring back plenty of screenshots to spread online. Publicity for the film will have to do for the sake of this review.
Promotional material for Almost Human emphasizes the drama.
I entered my viewing completely blind, knowing nothing about the film except that Cecil and William DeMille produced it. A good enough reason to see a film, if you ask me! I was not disappointed.
To my pleasant surprise, a title card announced a ‘Cast of Dogs’ billed above the ‘Cast of Humans’. Yes, my friends. Almost Humans is narrated by a dog. (Also, according to IMDb, our canine stars Hank, Paul, and Trixie don’t have any other credited roles, which I find hard to believe.)
The film fades into a group of a dozen or so dogs of different breeds complaining about humans: Humans sure got their nerve to call dogs dumb! They’re plenty dumb themselves if you ask me! After several dogs make jokes at the expense of humans, whom they don’t call owners but simply mother and father, our protagonist Hank offers to tell his canine friends how he saved his family.
A quickly reproduced (by yours truly) introductory title card using the actual text from the original film.
Hank makes sure to start at the very beginning, telling us how he came into this world. His mother, a street mutt, convinces the pampered Regent Royal to go out on the town with her. I kid you not, one night out and then Hank is born in a barn shortly afterward. I guess censors were okay with canine one-night stands but not the human variety.
Quickly growing up, Hank needs to find a human to take care of in order to fulfill a dog’s purpose in life. He spends several days walking around town sniffing everyone in sight to find the right fit. It’s not until he meets Mary (Vera Reynolds), a young woman without a penny to her name or a place to stay. Lucky for both of them, Mary meets a sociable rich heir named John (Kenneth Thomson) who instantly finds a liking to her.
John invites her to stay at his mother’s home after they bond over both helping to rescue a young girl from drowning at the lake. Unfortunately, once Hank begins taking care of Mary, the humans take over the focus of the film. Vera Reynolds is a charming protagonist, and Kenneth Tomson holds his own as her suitor, but the dogs and their humor take a back seat despite being the main appeal of the picture.
You don’t often see publicity stills with the star’s head facing away from the camera.
Against his mother’s wishes, John marries Mary instead of a rich family friend who would have propelled John’s career and further elevated the family’s social standing. You can imagine the conflict this causes between the couple and how the mother-in-law treats them. The climax features Hank pulling the couple’s baby in a wooden carriage on the streets of Los Angeles. A fun chase with plenty of near misses and great stunts ultimately results in a happy ending for all humans and dogs involved.
Almost Human works as a breezy programmer running slightly over an hour. Dismissed as light entertainment and quickly forgotten, it unfortunately doesn’t have a large footprint today. For instance, Variety labeled the film a big disappointment whose only redeeming quality is John Kraft’s title cards.
Mary might be in doubt, but Hank is a good boy who knows what he wants.
The copy of the film itself was not in top shape. As far as I could tell, all the footage survived, but the film hasn’t been touched since it was transferred to VHS, most likely a couple of decades ago. The film had no score either, which at first tested my patience, but as soon as the dogs showed up, Almost Human became a rather enjoyable experience.
I hope programmers or independent labels pick up Almost Human to restore, screen, and release it to the public, especially as it’s in the public domain. It’d be a shame if Almost Human stays stuck in the doghouse, as it would easily entertain a crowd at a classic film festival like Cinecon. Until then, if you get the chance to visit UCLA for a few hours, Almost Human is well worth the hassle of checking out.
If you live near or are visiting Los Angeles, you can also visit the UCLA Library and view a rare film! Search the UCLA Library Catalog for films in their archive’s collection (such as Almost Human‘s finding aid) and email in a viewing request to the library’s Archive Research and Study Center.
You can also consult my Letterboxd list of over 50 rare silent films currently held at the UCLA Film & Television Archive, as long as you promise to tell me all about it once you screen a film there!
