Arthur 'Stan Laurel' Jefferson (1890-1965), from Ulverston, Lancashire, England, was the thin one who mucked things up and cried about it. Oliver Hardy (1892-1957), from Harlem, Georgia, was the fat one who mucked things up and blamed Stan. Together, they were the greatest comedy team in the history of movies, and the names of Laurel & Hardy -- or 'Dick und Doof' -- are known and loved around the world. This month, Classicflix presents a handy guide to Stan & Ollie and their best work.

Stan Laurel, son of a theatrical producer, appeared on stage at a young age (over papa's objections) and came to America as an understudy to Charlie Chaplin. Oliver Hardy (or 'Babe' as he was known from infancy to grave by everyone who knew him) worked in the family hotel in a small Georgia town, where films shown to guests impressed the rotund but athletic young man, who went first to Florida and then to Southern California in search of movie jobs.

Laurel worked steadily in front of and behind the camera; Hardy was usually cast as the bad guy in comic short subjects (called 'the heavy' because traditionally, like Babe, the villains had a girth that made them seem menacing to their comic foils). Laurel and Hardy's professional paths first crossed about 1920 or so, when they both appeared in a short film called The Lucky Dog. A few years later, they were both employed at Hal Roach Studios, Mr. Hardy as an actor and Mr. Laurel as a gagman and director, mostly, and from time to time on the other side of the camera. Stan and Babe went about making films as Roach contract players, both separately and occasionally together as circumstances dictated, in such films as 45 Minutes to Hollywood (1926) and With Love and Hisses (1927). Somebody -- and that somebody seems to be Leo McCarey, later known as one of the best and most respected directors in the business (Going My Way) -- noticed their on-screen chemistry, and by late 1927 they were officially paired by Hal Roach as a team. Their famous characters (the screen Laurel and Hardy were of course much different off-screen than on), the two dim but ever-hopeful pals, were perfected over time, slowly during their early years together but rapidly once they became a dedicated team (Laurel never appeared again without Hardy, and Babe made only a handful of films without his partner post-teaming).

If you haven't seen them at their best, it's difficult describing their incredible onscreen chemistry (off-screen? They tended not to pal around. Babe was a golfer; Stan, a filmmaker). Simply put, they were 'two brains without a single thought.' In Two Tars, they were a pair of sailors on shore leave who rent a car, pick up a pair of lovely women, and head for a day's fun at the beach. Sounds simple, right? Well, before they're through, they've contributed to demolishing a row of cars stuck in traffic. Liberty offers them as escaped convicts attempting to change out of their striped uniforms and into civilian togs; that elementary action leads them to donning the wrong pants and being trapped atop a skyscraper construction site, with a live crab inside Stan's pants (it's all logical when you see it). In perhaps their funniest silent film, Big Business, they're a pair of door-to-door Christmas tree salesmen who run afoul of a particularly grumpy non-Christmas tree buyer (frequent L&H foil James 'D'oh!' Finlayson) who destroys their truck, bit by bit, as they tear his house and lawn to shreds, with the neighbors looking on -- as we the audience are -- in a mix of shock and awe at the tsunami of comic destruction.

The Boys weren't slowed by the advent of sound, appearing in numerous short comedy classics. They also began appearing in feature-length films, both as stars and in special appearances in MGM all-star films. In 1940, they bade farewell to Roach and moved full-time to Fox and MGM, where they languished in second- and third-rate films that can kindly be called 'uninspired'. They made their final film, Atoll K, in 1950.

For this writer, the moment that embodies what made the team so special comes early in their great feature Sons of the Desert (1933). They belong to a lodge that's holding a meeting in Chicago, and the Grand High Exalted leader of their assembly urges all members to stand united 'shoulder to shoulder.' Stan and Ollie move, almost imperceptibly, until their shoulders touch. Nobody else could get a laugh out of something so simple.

In the 1980s, the best of Laurel & Hardy was widely available on a series of videotapes distributed by The Nostalgia Merchant. Unfortunately, rights and ownership changed hands, and over the next 25 years, a majority of the comedy teams best work languished in the vaults apart from occasional (and much appreciated showings on Turner Classic Movies). These days, their best and worst from the sound era are readily available; here's a handy guide to their best, to familiarize or re-familiarize yourself with the great Laurel & Hardy.

Between 1929 and 1935, the Boys starred in a total of 40 short subjects, mostly two-reelers (about 20 minutes) each. Every one of them is included in a mammoth boxed set called The Essential Collection.

The early talkies are technically crude but a lot of fun, with wonderful supporting turns from comic legends Thelma Todd (Unaccustomed as we Are) and Edgar Kennedy (Perfect Day). Men O'War, with the Boys as sailors trying to pick up two girls in a park and running afoul of James Finlayson, is a masterpiece.

Brats shows Stan's love for oddities and special effects; he and Ollie babysit their troublesome infants (also played by Laurel & Hardy). Hog Wild is an example of the Boys taking a simple chore -- in this case, erecting a radio antenna on the roof -- and causing havoc, destruction, and a great deal of pain to Oliver Hardy.

Beau Hunks (1931) demonstrates Hal Roach's commitment to making great comedy; what began as a typical two-reeler led to much improvisation and so much fun on-set that it was expanded to two reels and released as 'almost-a-feature' set in the Foreign Legion. Because they were contractually obligated to MGM for short subjects, Roach received no additional recompense for the twice-as-long movie he delivered.

In 1933, the first-ever Academy Award for Outstanding Live-Action Short Subject was bestowed upon their greatest short comedy, The Music Box. This is the one where L&H attempt to deliver a piano up what seems to be an inhumanly tall flight of stairs, and is three reels of non-stop guffaws. You can still visit the Music Box Steps in the Silverlake area of Los Angeles, which has a plaque placed there by the Sons of the Desert, the official L&H world-wide fan club (there's probably a Tent in your town). Just as funny, though, are Towed in a Hole (the Boys repair a junked boat, sort of), Helpmates (Ollie learns that if he needs help cleaning the house, the last person to call would be Stanley), and Busy Bodies (they work in a wood shop and accidentally cut their car in half, naturally).

I think their 1934 short Them Thar Hills is the funniest darn picture Laurel & Hardy ever made; moonshiners dump their wares down the well from which campers Stan 'n' Ollie are drinking, leading to a run-in with neighbors Charlie Hall and Mae Busch. Just none-stop guffaws. Going Bye-Bye!, with the Boys on the lam from escaped killer Walter Long, is a gem as well. After 1935, the Boys appeared exclusively in feature films.

The Boys had made their feature debut in The Hollywood Review of 1929, an MGM feature best remembered for introducing the song Singin' in the Rain. Their next feature, the 1930 Technicolor musical The Rogue Song is, alas, lost, destroyed in an MGM fire many years ago. The first feature to actually star the Boys is Pardon Us (1931), and it's a gem. L&H are sent to prison for bootlegging and make good an escape. June Marlowe, 'Miss Crabtree' from the Our Gang pictures, co-stars.

One of the Boys' most endearing pictures is The Devil's Brother (Fra Diavolo, 1933) with Thelma Todd, who never looked lovelier. Sons of the Desert is perhaps the team's most popular feature, and the only one to co-star them with Hal Roach Studios funnyman Charley Chase, cast against type here as a practical joker. It's a laugh riot from start to finish. Stan and Ollie followed that up with the perennial Christmas classic March of the Wooden Soldiers (Babes in Toyland).

1937's Way Out West is picked by many fans to be the Boys' best feature; it includes the unforgettable soft-shoe dance routine that's become a staple of L&H retrospectives. The following year, they starred in Swiss Miss and Block-Heads. The former is a rather goofy musical-comedy set in the Alps, and has a gorilla, a piano, and a dilapidated bridge; the latter is an unsung classic, a throwback to the Boys' slapstick heyday and one of their best features, as Stan 'n' Ollie are reunited Army buddies twenty years after the war.

With the Hal Roach Studios in a state of flux and serious disagreements between Mr. Roach and Mr. Laurel over various matters, the team went to RKO for a one-shot independent feature, The Flying Deuces (1939). It's not bad, but the team returned to Roach for the okay A Chump at Oxford and the terrible Saps at Sea. In addition, with Stan sidelined in a contract dispute, Oliver Hardy was teamed by Roach with Harry Langdon for the not-too-good oddity about an elephant called Zenobia.

After 1940, Stan & Ollie left the Hal Roach studio and were active in feature films from Fox and MGM for the next few years, all of which are available on DVD and none of which should ever be watched. They kept happily busy making successful personal appearances, particularly in England, and were planning a comeback on television in the 1950s, but illness to one or the other kept that dream from happening and Babe's death in 1957 drew the curtain on their thirty-year partnership.

Luckily, their classic comedy is available through Classicflix for new generations to enjoy.

Clifford Weimer is a writer and film historian in Sacramento, CA. He can usually be found lurking about the dark corners of a movie theatre at inthebalcony.com.