Danny Scheinmann

Stan & Ollie rolls out like a bittersweet love letter to classic comedy, zeroing in on the later years of Laurel and Hardy’s partnership. You’re not getting just slapstick and wobbly piano gags here; it’s way more raw and honest than that. The film drops us into the 1950s, when the legendary duo’s heyday has faded, and they’re hustling through a theatre tour in the UK. It’s not all standing ovations and roses, either. These guys are broke, dealing with health problems, and forced to confront old wounds from years of working together—like, real grudges that only lifelong friends can hold. The thing that gets you? Their friendship. Despite all the showbiz nonsense, the disappointments, and the egos—there’s this undeniable warmth between them. Sure, there’s bickering and some classic comedic mishaps (because, c’mon, it wouldn’t be Laurel and Hardy without a pratfall or two), but you see their genuine affection bleeding through every scene. The film doesn’t sugarcoat the struggle, either. Audiences aren’t guaranteed, critics can be brutal, and the world’s already chasing the next big thing. Still, they lean on each other, stubborn and sweet, refusing to give up on the act or the bond that made them legends in the first place. Honestly, it’s a bit of a gut-punch if you’ve ever loved a creative partnership. Stan & Ollie brings the laughs, yeah, but it’s the heartbreak and hope that’ll stick with you.