Her Nephews from Labrador (1913) A Silent Film Review

When a New York state woman receives word that her nephews are coming to visit from Canada, she is prepared to show them every courtesy… but the curious ways of the boys from Labrador take her by surprise.

Home Media Availability: Stream courtesy of EYE.

Polar Bear Party

I’m going to do something a little unusual and recommend strongly that you watch the film before I read the review. The structure of the comedy relied on audiences going into the film knowing nothing about the cast or their peculiar hobbies and I had a lot of fun with the big reveal. It’s free to watch online, so take twelve minutes and then come back here. (Also, don’t read the synopsis that accompanies the video.)

All done? Let’s go!

Her Nephews from Labrador is a Thanhouser comedy dealing with cross-culture communication between a New York state aunt and her Labrador (very Northern Canada) nephews. The film has very little plot because the central joke—the New York winter is balmy and tropical to the near-Arctic lads—relies on the particular talents of the men playing the title characters.

When they arrive at the train station, it’s snowy and the locals are bundled up, while the boys cool themselves with woven straw fans they have brought for the purpose. The film has very little in the way of plot and instead relies on the steadily more extreme behavior of the Labradorians. They steal away to the lake (heavily bundled in winter clothing by their aunt, played by Victory Bateman), strip down to swimsuits, roll and play in the snow and then conclude it all with a swim in the frozen lake. Seeing their antics, she rushes out with warm blankets to “rescue” them from freezing to death.

Short films of the silent era frequently relied on happenstance for new material. Entire productions might center on a nearby fire, the draining of a lake, a local attraction that happened to be open when the film crew was in town and so forth. In the case of Her Nephews from Labrador, the two men playing the nephews, William “Billy” Noel and Phil Nesbaum, were founding members of a New York state Polar Bears club and were locally known in New Rochelle for their aquatic antics. Their club even warranted a brief mention in a 1912 issue of the New York Times. Noel already worked for Thanhouser, which had been founded in New Rochelle, but this seems to have been his earliest role. (Or at least major role.)

These clubs involved swimming in freezing water in abbreviated attire and were gaining popularity in North America, likely introduced by Northern and Eastern European immigrants who had been enjoying icy dips for ages. Polar bear clubs were known to the American general public at the time (casually mentioned in mainstream newspapers without explanation or scare quotes, there were also Arctic and Snow Bird clubs) but the antics of Noel and Nesbaum specifically were local New York news, and so the main amusement of the film is derived in seeing just how far the boys are willing to go to demonstrate their love of the cold.

Trying to take off their coats at a cold train station? That’s just good acting. Stripping to their skimpy swimsuits? That takes courage but they probably warmed up between shots. Rolling and wrestling in the snow… that’s commitment. Diving into the water? Wait just a minute… Are those polar bears?

This film seems to rely on the audience’s awareness of the artificiality of film and how far actors could realistically be expected to go for the craft, then it playfully goes a few steps further. As I stated before, not much in the way of plot but there was clearly a deliberately planned structure with steady escalation of the nephews’ penchant for frozen temperatures.

How accurate is the film? Well, I have never been to Labrador but I do own a Labrador and she experienced her first snow when she was nine weeks old. I took her out for a bathroom break in the middle of the night and the little fuzzball immediately crawled onto a snowbank and wanted to sleep there. So, 100% accurate in my book.

But seriously, it is humorous that the alleged customs of the Labradorians who never got out much were in fact the hobbies of two New Rochelle natives, who formed a local club to share their love of icy bathing. (Polar bear clubs were formed in Canada as well, of course, and continue to thrive wherever the water is cold enough for the purpose.)

The picture was released January 26 of 1913, which was less than two weeks after a fire devastated the Thanhouser studios on January 13 of the same year. I am not certain whether the film was completed before or after the fire. If it was made after, the ingenuity of Thanhouser crew must be praised; they made use of their resources to create a droll film using one interior and a nearby pond.

During this period in filmmaking, screen credits were still being worked out and it was common for audience members to write into fan magazines to inquire about the players and details of the production. The Motion Picture Story had a section dedicated to these questions called Answers to Inquiries (questions pertaining to matrimony and relationships would not be answered). Her Nephews from Labrador inspired several queries about the identity of the cast and there was another, interesting letter about the production.

The polar bear scenes included shots of bystanders, who were clearly not employed by Thanhouser and were just enjoying watching the film production process. This sort of thing was also common at the time. Apparently, some of the boys in the background were recognized and someone wrote in to confirm the location of the pond to settle whether they appeared in the film. The Motion Picture Story responded that “Yes, the boys were skating on the same pond where the other boys were bathing.”

It’s a small detail but it’s a fun reminder of how small and cozy filmmaking still was pre-WWI. I wonder if the skaters saw the production and then watched likely films until they spotted themselves. Or if relatives saw them on the screen and recognized them.

Her Nephews from Labrador isn’t a forgotten masterpiece but it is a prime example of a forgotten kind of filmmaking, a cozy, local business kind of filmmaking. (“Noel and Nesbaum are at it again! Hey, are those our kids in the background?”) If it was thrown together on the fly in the wake of the studio fire, I am most impressed with it but even if it wasn’t, it takes innocent delight in the hidden talents of its cast and there’s a joyfulness about it that’s infectious. It’s light, goofy and quite fun.

Where can I see it?

Stream for free courtesy of the EYE Filmmuseum.

☙❦❧

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