Shacked up... The Canadian (1926), Lillian Henley, Kennington Bioscope

Mona Palma and Thomas Meighan

One of the real treats of attending the Kennington Bioscope is not only watching films from Kevin Brownlow’s collection but also hearing his introductions. As the noughties game used to have it, we’re all six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon but in Kennington we’re just three degrees through Kevin Brownlow to so many silent film stars, cast and crew.

Kevin not only met William Beaudine, The Canadian’s director, he also helped put on a screening of the film so that, having been too busy in the first instance, it’s director could finally see it 44 years after its run. Ill health almost prevented Beaudine attending and he wouldn’t give an introduction until the audience and he had a chance to see it the film was actually any good… after applause during and after the film, he got up on stage and announced his surprise that he wasn’t that bad director, in patches at least.

The Canadian is indeed a decent movie and has many similarities to Victor Sjöström’s later film The Wind (1928) a film found in very good quality in the UK prompting one US archivist to tell Kevin that they only had “the poor man’s Wind”… Whilst The Canadian is not as good as that nor City Girl (1928), another later film featuring a sea of wheat, it is a very good movie and accompanied by Lillian Henley’s perfectly-paced piano – lots of lovely, patient lines, so sure of tone - had more than one of this battle-hardened silent audience to wipe salty fluid from their eye: we’ve coped with Chaplin, Stella Dallas, Joan of Arc… but then this!?

Beaudine had been primarily a comedy director and, seeing out his contract to MGM as a lucrative loanee with Paramount, he took a chance and took the all expenses trip up to Canada to make a drama based on a 1913 play, The Land of Promise, by W. Somerset Maugham of all people. He was accompanied by cinematographer Alvin Wyckoff who ended up being assisted by a curious electrician, Stanley Cortez, who stayed up all night studying the cameras hoping to find a more better role. He ended up as Orson Wells cinematographer on The Magnificent Ambersons (1942).

See, from Kevin Brownlow to Orson Wells in three moves!

Nora Marsh (Mona Palma, who bears a passing resemblance to City Girl’s Mary Duncan…) has had to leave the “culture and poverty” of Britain (and this in 1926!!) following the death of her aunt. She travels way out west to stay with her brother Ed (Wyndham Standing) and his wife Gertie (Dale Fuller, who has a face you never forget and was so good in von Stroheim’s Greed).

Nora’s no explorer and quickly finds both the locale and the locals distasteful. She’s full of airs and graces and appalled by the rough and ready approach to dining; eating with a fork and no napkins. Chief amongst the louts is Frank Taylor (mighty Thomas Meighan) who is as incredulous as she at each other’s startling incompatibility.

But it’s not Frank Nora needs to worry about, at least not yet, Gertie’s a reasonable girl but when she finds her sister in law not only knows literally nothing about housework but continues to lord it over her and the men, she cracks and picks a fight Nora can only loose.

Thus it is, slightly improbably, that after being forced into the most humiliating of apologies, Nora offers her desperate hands in marriage to Frank who had previously said that he only wanted a woman to cook and clean. The two are wed in cold contractual misery and then face life together in a cold, tiny wooden shack that makes Lars Hanson’s gaff in The Wind look positively palatial.

There a thousand tiny terrors start to unfold including the issue of marital intimacy… like a gent Frank sleeps in the main room leaving Mona the bedroom. But, the pressure builds, and things are about to get a lot more intense.

The Canadian deserves its own reputation and both leads excel. I knew what to expect from Mr Thomas Meighan, but Mona Palma was also very good – pride just about trumping fear until she learns to adapt.

There’s also a nice turn from Charles Winninger as Pop Tyson who dances a mean jig!

Up first was an eclectic and satisfying mix of shorts the best of which was It’s A Gift (1923) which featured Snub Pollard in a small metal car propelled by his use of a giant magnet to follow other vehicles; it’s an iconic image and now I know which film it was from! Snub plays a scientist who has an automated breakfast and wake up routine similar to Wallace in The Wrong Trousers: we’d all like to pull a few strings to get our breakfast made and trousers hitched.

The gifted Mr Pollard

There was also an oddity called Life’s Staircase (1915) featuring a couple reading and ripping up old love letters, she ranged left and he, right, as the circumstances of each letter and token place alongside, double-exposed. It’s about marriage and the prototype relationships we leave behind, and it reminded me of Scott Pilgrim vs The World in which our hero must battle all his girl’s previous partners. In this film he’d only have to get married and they’d all fade away.

First film was a dreamy confection from Louis Feuillade all about Spring (1909) which featured lots of women dancing in flowing white dresses. It was impressive, but I was concerned about the safety of the numerous doves held aloft during the calisthenics.

My garden, today

If you like ladies in swimming costumes, an episode of the long running women’s cinemagazine, Eve’s Film Review, was about to explore how “Eve’s” swimming costume has shrunk since the 1880’s. There was definitely a trend on the evidence presented and cause for concern for some but boy, were they in for a shock twenty year’s later.

Felix the Cat started life in Eve’s Film Review and he popped up trying to win a battle with a clown for the hand of a doll in Toy Land. Itchy won (or was it Scratchy?) and the romance between paper cat and human doll went to plan but oh, Mr Hays were you not watching?!

Meg Morley matched these broad themes with an assured eclecticism of her own: if you can accompany cartoon cats, Doves in danger, Snubb’s auto race and swimming-costumed women washing elephants in Manchester zoo, then you can probably cope with anything.

Another superb evening at the one and only Kennington Bioscope c/o The Cinema Museum! Thanks to Lillian and Meg for playing, Michelle Facey (the shorts: meticulous research as usual!) and Kevin Brownlow (his film!) for introducing, Dave Locke for projecting and to everyone who keeps this special place going.

PS For Ladies Only? Eve's Film Review: Pathe Cinemagazine 1921-33 by Jenny Hammerton looks fascinating and is available on Amazon!

Norma Talmadge… Smiling Through (1922)

Smiling Through (also Smilin’ Through) was a box office smash in 1922 – 6th highest grosser after the likes of Robin Hood, Blood and Sand, Manslaughter – and, at this point its star, Norma Talmadge, was arguably second only to Mary Pickford.

Having raved about Mary I must return to Norma for she could act with a subtlety and a believable force unmatched by most contemporaries. And, as with Miss P she had a like-ability, energy and common touch that struck a chord with millions.

Smiling Through was based on the 1919 Broadway play staring Jane Cowl, who also co-wrote with Jane Murfin under the male pseudonym of Allan Langdon Martin. It was a play about eternal love that wrestled with the impact of the Great War… after such carnage you had to hope there was something more to life than death.

The story is a simple one and undoubtedly populist. As the New York Times review pointed out “…it is entirely sentimental, and it is well done. Those who like photoplays deliberately sentimental will be attracted to it…”. Moving Picture World pronounced that "Smilin' Through is a personal triumph for Norma Talmadge…” whilst also commenting that it will make good box office: “…a safe, satisfying success.”

It’s interesting to put this melodramatic and emotive film in the context of the period: a well-made, professional film that more than met business objectives and enhanced the status of its star. Modern viewers may find the production simplistic and too sugary but, at the time, people wanted the sweet stuff… We still need it now but the wrapper’s different.

Underneath the sweet was quite a lot of sour… Smiling Through’s main male character, John Carteret (played by Wyndham Standing) lives in hate following the tragic murder of the love of his life on their wedding day. Moonyeen (played by Norma) is a young Irish girl who has fallen for this upright English gentleman, but she has also unwittingly stole the heart of Kenneth Wayne (Harrison Ford… “no, not that one”… never gets old…).

Wayne tries to murder Carteret at the wedding but only succeeds in killing Moonyeen after she throws herself in front of her true love. Her death is a tragedy echoing the untimely ends met by so many at this time - the audience and film, cannot let this be the end.

This is told in flashback someway into the film. The story starts many years later with Carteret an old man obsessed with his memories and his hatred of all things Wayne. He still dreams of his love though and holds a doll against the moonlight to see the shadow of Moonyeen against his garden gate.

He adopted Moonyeen’s niece, Kathleen (also played by Norma) and she is the one bright point in his life. Yet, into their midst comes Jeremiah Wayne (Ford again) who has returned from a life in America and is unaware of the bad blood.

 

There's a lovely scene when Kathleen and Jeremiah meet at a ball in Dunstable. Kathleen rebuffs the advances of earnest Willie Ainsley (Glen Hunter) and pulling a variety of comedicalyy-disgusted faces, she manages to get the newcomer to invite her to dance.

The two go off to talk and fall in love but Carteret finds them and refuses to sanction their relationship. Undeterred they begin to meet in secret, aided by Doctor Owen (Alec B. Francis) who wishes his best friend would forgive and forget.

But Carteret is not going to change his mind even when Jeremiah joins up and leaves for France in 1914.

The Great War passes and Kathleen waits anxiously for her lover’s return but Jeremiah has been wounded and does not want her to marry him out of pity. Carteret is more than happy to accept this – the man has a heart of stone!

He starts to get his come-uppance though as Kathleen blames him for Jeremiah’s distancing… and Carteret tells her just why he hates the Waynes. But it’s not enough to convince her and she resolves to leave him.

Spoilers ahead: Left alone with friends and family alienated by his hatred, Carteret finally asks his friends for help in re-uniting the young couple.

There’s not a dry eye in out living room as Jeremiah proposes to Kathleen in the manner she instructed him to before the war. Talmadge’s emotional display here is so very impressive, she seemed to specialise in close up transitions from sad to happy and her huge dark eyes shine with relief and compassion.

Meanwhile, Carteret plays dominoes with his old pal the Doctor and, at last released from his emotional cage, he is joined by the spirit of Moonyeen. They are, at last reunited in the afterlife and, Moonyeen says that if only people knew what follows after death they’d spend their whole lives smiling through…. sentimental but reassuring to a population still mourning the deaths of millions.

Directed with efficiency by Sidney Franklin, Smiling Through was filmed largely on set – apart from a brief location shoot when Kathleen is first encountered a Californian inlet passing itself off as Ireland. This enclosure reflected its Broadway origins and adds to the cosy feel.



The cast is good, especially Alec B. Francis, whilst Harrison Ford excels especially as the bad Wayne, but it is Norma’s show and she dominates every scene she’s in always reaching out to the watcher with her expressive features, dancer's poise and those shininng eyes.

The print I watched was pretty good with the exception of some bleaching and peripheral damage after about an hour. It’s to be hoped it gets a clean up and proper release at some point - I’ve seen worse official releases from the twenties.

Catch it if you can and settle back to fully appreciate the skill and appeal of Norma Talmadge, a major contributor in the development of screen acting and a great, intelligent, entertainer.

And for those who think this blog is sometimes a little random... the reason Norma Jean (see previous post) was called Norma is because her mother was a big fan of Miss Talmadge.