Happy Easter

Mary Pickford. Photo from here. 

Happy Easter! While I didn't go to the Easter Parade this year like I have in the past, I did head over to Brooklyn and Prospect Park Zoo where I spent the afternoon with my friend and her twins watching the sea lions and feeding the barn animals. Hope everyone had a lovely day.

Ready for Christmas?

Mary Pickford

Leave it to our Mary to be concerned about the working girl; she was probably the hardest working woman in Hollywood. 

For those celebrating Christmas, I hope you do indeed have all of your presents wrapped, your cards mailed, and the kitchen stocked with goodies so you can relax a bit. There's nothing more stressful than running around on Christmas eve trying to do a million things. 

To all my dear readers, however you celebrate the holidays (or not), have a lovely evening and enjoy the day off tomorrow.

Pickford Found

Mary Pickford in a scene from Their First Misunderstanding (1911)

It’s believed that ninety percent of all silent films are lost, a fact that breaks my heart to think about. So you can imagine how elated this silent film fan was to hear of the discovery of a missing Mary Pickford film.

Their First Misunderstanding, a ten-minute film produced by Carl Laemmle’s Independent Moving Picture Company (IMP) in 1911 and starring Mary Pickford, was found seven years ago in a barn in Nelson, New Hampshire. Contractor Peter Massie, who had been hired to tear down the barn, made the discovery— seven reels of nitrate film in total along with an old projector. He turned the items over to film professor Larry Benaquist at Keene State College who helped get the film identified.

Just 18 at the time she wrote and starred in the short comedy, Pickford along with her then husband, Owen Moore, play a married couple who have their first argument. Thomas Ince, the films director, and Ben Turpin also have minor roles. Pickford, who had already made more than 100 shorts by this point, runs through a gamut of emotions in one scene, which you can watch here.

Not only was this Pickford's first film for IMP (she had been with Biograph previously) but it also marked the first time that Pickford received screen billing (most studio heads thought that acknowledging the actors would cause them to demand higher salaries; they weren't wrong). Prior to this film Pickford was known as the “girl with the curls.” Mary Pickford would go to become a huge star and for a while, the most famous person in the world.

The film’s restoration was funded by the Library of Congress, which houses not only the largest collection of Pickford films but her personal collection as well. On October 11, the film will see its second “premiere” at a special screening at Keene State College. For more information about the event, visit here.

Happy Birthday to Me

Mary Pickford

It's my birthday today! On the agenda is the "Impression, Fashion, and Modernity" exhibit at the Met and shopping at Tiffany's with drinks later at a local speakeasy. Should be enough to distract me from my descent into senility. Have a good weekend everyone!

Forever Young

"I was forced to live far beyond my years when just a child, now I have reversed the order and I intend to remain young indefinitely."—Mary Pickford

And through the magic of film Mary Pickford has done just that, remained the young girl with the curls who won the hearts of the world. I have a couple of her films that I've never seen before that I plan on watching this weekend in-between attending a baby shower in Brooklyn (twins!) and spending some time out and about in the city before the craziness of the holiday season begins. Have a lovely weekend everyone.

Photo from the Library of Congress.

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.

The Ideal Screen Type

As this image from 1928 proves, analysing a movie star's body is nothing new. Here starlet Anita Page is compared to a sketch of the ideal screen type. Comprised of body parts from 13 various actresses (a bit Frankenstein don't you think?) the "ideal type" looks to me like Mary Pickford—not just because they used her eyes but the whole face. The sketch does make you think. Do you know the circumference of your ankles, your wrist?  And how tiny were Ann Pennington's feet?

I'm assuming the 5'2 Anita Page fared well with the comparison. The adorable actress who made an easy transition from silents to talkies was extremely popular, at one point receiving more fan mail than any other actress save Greta Garbo. She should have starred in more films but retired in 1933 at the ripe old age of 23. The good news is you can catch some of her performances on DVD including her turn as a jazz baby in The Broadway Melody (1929), the first talkie to win the Oscar for best picture.

The Girl With the Curls

Mary Pickford was famous for her curls. Long, heavy ringlets that appeared golden on screen, they were the envy of women everywhere. They gave her an angelic appearance and helped her to play young girls well into her 30s.

When Mary first started out in pictures with the Biograph Company, working under the direction of D.W. Griffith, none of the company’s actors received screen credits. As Mary’s popularity grew, audiences began to demand more movies with the “Girl with the Curls.”

So it's not surprising that when Mary bobbed her hair on June 21, 1928 (she waited until her mother had died before making the drastic decision) the move made the front page of the New York Times. Shocked fans wrote letters expressing their anger at the loss of her curls, and her husband at the time, Douglas Fairbanks, reportedly wept.

Which is why I find this image of Mary so interesting. No curls in sight or the golden sheen associated with the most famous woman in the world. Instead there's just a young woman looking pensively at the camera, waiting to do the most common of things—wash her hair.

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).