An Announcement

If you've visited this site recently, you'll have noticed that I haven't posted anything for a very long time. There are a variety of reasons, one of which is that I got so busy with work and other projects that I didn't have the time anymore to devote to writing posts. But I did want to alert you to one project that I'm very excited to announce: a new feature documentary on one of my favourite couples, silent screen stars Olive Thomas and Jack Pickford. So please visit us at our website and follow us on Instagram and Twitter for updates. And thank you for being such loyal readers.

Visiting Ollie

Olive Thomas circa 1915.

On September 29, 1920 the funeral of silent screen star Olive Thomas was held at St. Thomas Episcopal Church on Fifth Avenue in New York where hundreds of mourners crowded the church and street. The young actress had died on September 10, 1920 in Paris after accidentally ingesting poison and the news of her passing filled the newspapers. Last month, on the anniversary of the funeral, my friend Allison and I, after a quick stop at St. Thomas, travelled out to Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx to pay our respect to our darling Ollie.

Photos by Michele.

I had been to out to Woodlawn to see Ollie’s final resting place a few years before on the anniversary of her birthday (read about that visit here) but my friend, who lives in LA, had never been so it made the visit even more special.

After a bit of a hunt for her mausoleum we found it, looking as tiny and downtrodden as I remembered, adorned with the single word Pickford (the mausoleum was built for two but Ollie remains alone as her husband, Jack Pickford, was buried with the rest of the Pickford clan in California). Hanging from the door was a single dried rose and a glow-stick (left over from a Halloween tour last year, we later found out). We both brought flowers for Ollie and just coincidentally chose pink and white (great minds); I had looked in vain for lilac-coloured flowers but no luck (Ollie's coffin had been covered with purple orchids). After the requisite photo taking (including having our driver take some photos of us), we sat on the step of the mausoleum and talked about Ollie and Jack before being surprised by the arrival of a tour group, which turned into an Annie Hall moment with us correcting the guide. Still, a wonderful day spent with lovely company.

For more about Ollie and why I'm such a fan, read my prior post here.

The Goose Woman

Louise Dresser is The Goose Woman.

The Goose Woman (1925) is a real gem of a film. Who knew that an unlikeable, drunken woman could not only carry a film but win over the audience as well?

Mary Holmes is a former opera star (stage name Marie de Nardi) who was forced to give up her career and the limelight when she lost her singing voice after giving birth to an illegitimate son, Gerald, whom she now despises. Destitute, she lives alone in a small cottage, herding geese (hence the title of the film) and drinking bottles of gin. When one of her neighbours is murdered, Mary sees her chance to be in the public eye once more and gives a false description to the police of the murderer whom she claims to have seen. Her actions result in Gerald being mistakenly arrested for the crime, and Mary is left to choose between her son and fame.

Written by Rex Beach, the story was inspired by the Hall-Mills murders that had happened a few years prior on September 14, 1922, in which an Episcopal priest and his lover, a member of the church choir, were found shot to death. The suspects, the priest’s wife and her brothers, were tried for the crime but acquitted largely in part because of conflicting testimony from an eyewitness who was nicknamed the “Pig Woman.”

With this storyline, one might expect nothing more than your run of the mill silent melodrama. But in the skilled hands of director Clarence Brown, the film is a moving, well-made drama with scattered moments of comedic relief.

One of the reasons it works so well is the casting of Louise Dresser as the Goose Woman. Dreiser is amazing. When we first meet her she is unkempt and dirty. Appearing slightly deranged, her only seeming comforts are looking at a scrapbook of old press clippings and listening to a recording of her singing. When her son arrives and expresses concern for her condition, she scoffs at him. In a very symbolic moment (there are more in the film), he accidentally breaks her recording, shattering the remnants of their relationship. She tells him that she hates him and throws him out. Later, when she is taken under the wing by the district attorney and cleaned up to look presentable, her transformation is incredible. She’s once again a grand dame, graciously accepting compliments and impressing the people around her. Not only do her clothes and hair change, but her mannerisms and stance as well as the look in her eyes. It really is a tour-de-force performance.

Gerald (Jack Pickford) learns the truth about his parentage. 

Jack Pickford gives one of his finest performances in this film. Naive but with the best intentions at heart, his Gerald is a son who despite everything still loves his mother and comes across as genuine. Pickford is often dismissed as an actor but his sister Mary believed he was a better actor than she was and in this film you can see how good he was.

Gerald’s fiancée is played by a young Constance Bennett who sports some thick eyebrows (She is definitely one star for whom the thin, arched brows of the 1930s was an improvement). The scene in which he confesses the truth about his parentage to her is subtle and lovely, and Bennett holds her own with Pickford.

The film is wonderfully shot by Milton Moore (he also shot the fabulous He Who Gets Slapped) and the sets reek of authenticity (apparently Brown had a real goose woman’s cottage moved to a Hollywood back lot). And the new print looks amazing thanks to a recent restoration by the UCLA Film & Television Archive.

I saw The Goose Woman at Film Forum this summer as part of their Universal 100 series celebrating the studio’s 100th anniversary. Steve Sterner provided live piano accompaniment (save for the scene in which you hear Mary sing; that audio came from the film) and afterwards Bruce Goldstein, the repertory program director, let the audience hang out and watch an old episode of This Is Your Life that featured Louise Dresser surprising her old friend Buster Keaton. What a great night and what a great film.

Jack & Olive

A scream erupted from my mouth when I came upon this image during one of my recent late night web perusals. Jack Pickford and Olive Thomas!  For those readers familiar with this blog you will know that Olive Thomas holds a special place on my list of favourite stars (read this). In fact, I spent many years researching her life and tracking down every tidbit I could about her. One thing that was always elusive were photos of Jack and Olive together. There is a famous shot of them on the deck of the Imperator before departing on their ill-fated voyage to Paris (Olive would die in the City of Lights) and another of the two of them getting into the back of a car. So you can imagine my shock and delight when I suddenly saw these familiar faces pop up on the Film Librarian's blog. It looks like it's on the set of Tom Sawyer (1917) in which Jack played the title role and Olive had an uncredited cameo as a singer in the church choir. Aren't they adorable? It also gives me hope that there are other photographs out there just waiting to be discovered.

Visiting the Dead

The mausoleum where Olive Thomas is interred.

So how did I spend a lovely Saturday? Rambling around a cemetery of course. Specifically Woodlawn Cemetery. I have been meaning to visit the place for some time but the anniversary this week of silent screen star Olive Thomas’ birth prompted me to trek up to the Bronx and bring her some flowers.

Two of the many memorials found on the grounds. I wondered about the anchor held by Jane 

and sighed at the little broken girl whose lonely leg remains on the headstone.

Woodlawn Cemetery was founded in 1863 and its 400 acres are home to many famous New Yorkers. From Duke Ellington and Miles Davis to Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Cady Stanton to the founders of Macy’s, JC Penny’s, and Woolworths, Woodlawn seems to have more stars than the sky (to steal from Louis B. Mayer). The grounds are covered with every type of memorial from simple stones to mausoleums that are larger than my flat. One of the more memorable epitaphs to be found is the one for George Spencer Millet, who died at the age of 15 on February 15, 1909—“lost life by stab in falling on ink eraser, evading six young women trying to give him birthday kisses in office Metropolitan Life Building.” Poor kid.

Olive Thomas

But I was there to visit Olive Thomas who had suffered an agonizing death from poison on September 10, 1920. Her funeral was held on September 28, 1920 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in New York City and ended up being a bit of a circus. At the conclusion of the service, crowds surged toward the coffin that was draped with purple orchids and a spray of yellow and brown orchids from her grieving husband, Jack Pickford. The pallbearers—Owen Moore (Mary Pickford’s ex-husband who was in Paris when Olive died), Gene Buck, Thomas Meighan (who was the only witness at Olive and Jack’s wedding), Harrison Fisher, Myron Selznick, Harry Carrington, William Kelton, and Alan Crosland—had their hands full as general chaos broke out. The ushers, one of whom was Irving Berlin, tried to help but women ended up fainting and men had their hats crushed before the police arrived and brought order to the scene. Olive’s family followed the coffin out to the Bronx and Woodlawn. 

Jack chose a mausoleum that would fit two coffins and had the name Pickford engraved on the front. Olive was placed in the top position and the bottom was left for Jack. That spot is still empty. Jack, who died in 1933 in Paris (the same city as Olive), was buried in California with the rest of the Pickford clan.

Olive’s resting place is a bit of a walk from the main entrance of the cemetery, and I kept checking my map so I wouldn't miss the Wintergreen section. Suddenly, I looked up and saw the name Pickford peeping out from behind another mausoleum. I have to admit to feeling a bit of a jolt when I saw it. First off, it’s tiny (at least compared to the other mausoleums around it). And secondly, it just struck me as sad. Besides the Pickford name the structure contains no other writing and nothing mentions who lies within. 

I brought some pink roses (I wanted something violet or purple but none were to be found) and propped them against the door. I stayed for a while, sitting on the step and enjoying the solitude that only a cemetery can offer. And then, with one quick backward glance, I headed off for 233rd Street and the train to Manhattan. 

Dear readers, I promise that future entries on this blog will be about topics other than cemeteries but as it's October and Halloween is just around the corner you might have to indulge me for just a bit longer.

Photos of Woodlawn Cemetery by Michele.

Footlights and Shadows

Today is the birthday of one of my favourite actresses, Olive Thomas. Dubbed the most beautiful girl in the world, Olive was a rising star of the silent screen whose life was tragically cut short at the age of 25.

The photo that started my obsession with Olive Thomas.

When I was a young girl, I lived in a town where many silent films had been made, including a major Mary Pickford feature. I loved Mary and silent films in general and would pour over old Hollywood bios and picture books (alas, in those pre-video days, the chance to see silent films was rare indeed). One day my father brought home a copy of Mary Pickford’s autobiography Sunshine and Shadow. In the book was a photo of a girl with a haunting gaze—Olive Thomas. That image stayed with me for years as did the story Mary told of Olive and her tragic life. Years later, I began to dig up as much information as I could about her.

Olive in the Follies.

She was born Olivia R. Duffy on October 20, 1894 in Charleroi, Pennsylvania. Poverty and the early death of her father made life hard, and Olive married Bernard Krug Thomas at the young age of 16. A few years later she escaped her husband and fled to New York City. In 1914, while working in a Harlem department store, she entered a newspaper contest looking for the most beautiful girl in New York City and won. Olive’s violet blue eyes and luxurious golden brown locks combined with her voluptuous figure made her a favourite with artists, and she modeled for the likes of Howard Chandler Christy and Harrison Fisher. Olive caught the eye of impresario Flo Ziegfeld and was soon appearing on stage at the New Amsterdam Theatre, doing double duty in the Ziegfeld Follies and the risqué Midnight Frolics. A year later, moving pictures beckoned.

Olive with Nigel Barrie in her first film, Beatrice Fairfax Episode Ten: Play Ball! 

Olive’s first screen appearance is a bit awkward. An actress learning how to deal with a new medium, she often seems self-conscious. Even so, it’s clear from the start that the camera loves her. Part of Olive’s appeal is how much her vitality and love of life seem to radiate from the screen. She is aware of her beauty but never seems to take it too seriously, as if she’s winking at the audience. As her later films attest, she became more confident as an actress, more at ease, and this allowed her to show off one of her strengths—comedy.

Olive playing it up as Ginger King in The Flapper.

She would go on to make 22 films in four years. She played a variety of roles, from girl next door to cat burglar to girl masquerading as a boy to a baby vamp. This last role, a new type of female character, led her to make film history when she starred in Alan Crosland’s The Flapper (1920), where she earned the distinction of playing the first flapper on screen.  Although bobbed hair and short skirts were to come later in the decade, Olive’s character, Ginger King, has all the makings of what we now associate with the flapper spirit. Ginger goes from innocent young girl dressed in white to wearing makeup and attempting to smoke while flirting with an older man. Looking for adventure, Ginger plays the role of the flapper to the hilt but in the end returns to being a “good girl.”

Olive’s personal life was a bit more complex than that of Ginger’s. In 1916, Olive fell in love with Jack Pickford, Mary’s baby brother. The two were crazy for each other and later eloped. The dazzling couple spent much of their marriage on separate coasts filming but when they were together there was much partying and fighting. They gave each other expensive gifts and took to drinking and wrecking cars. They were an early example of the jazz-age couple who would help define the 1920s.

Olive's beloved Jack Pickford.

In the fall of 1920, they set sail for Paris for a second honeymoon, a chance to start anew. During the day Olive was fitted for new costumes and at night the couple partied in some of the most popular nightspots in the city. But the fun turned into a nightmare on September 5 when the couple returned to their room at the Ritz at 3 am. Olive prepared what she thought was a sleeping potion but mistakenly drank a solution of bichloride of mercury instead. She was rushed to the hospital but after five days of pure agony, Olive’s star dimmed and she died on September 10.

A distraught Jack accompanied Olive’s body home and confessed later that he had contemplated suicide while on board ship. Her funeral was held on September 29 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in New York City, where the crowds swelled and women fainted. Olive was interred at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx in a mausoleum with the name Pickford carved above the door. (Jack would never join Olive. He is buried with the other Pickfords in California).

Controversy has been attached to Olive’s name ever since as people debate whether her death was suicide or an accident (Paris police ruled it an accident). But to focus on her death alone takes away from the woman herself. At the time of her death, Olive was becoming a fine actress who had turned in many strong performances. On the brink of a new decade, who knows what influence she would have had on the roaring twenties. We can only speculate.

So today, on her birthday, let’s celebrate her life and remember the vivacious girl who lit up the screen with her smile and energy. Happy Birthday Olive.

To find out more about Olive Thomas, check out the documentary Olive Thomas: Everybody’s Sweetheart (the DVD comes with a restored version of The Flapper). Or visit the New Amsterdam Theatre in New York where Olive’s ghost is said to reside (that, my dear readers, is a story for another time).