What goes around, finally comes around… Le Giornate del Cinema Muto 42, Day Three

 

Monday night and it’s time for something mighty begun by Erich von Stroheim and completed by Rupert Julien as the studio system clamped down on all that trust, creativity and budget abuse… not to mention Erich's "...flagrant disregard of the principles of censorship”. Lewis Milestone later claimed this as the moment when “the age of the director” was superseded by the producer system. Maybe Merry-go-Round (1923) is also then, the first example of a film that suffered as a result of no single vision?

 

It's certainly a film with many powerful moments, not least the finest performance I’ve ever seen from Mary Philbin as Agnes the poor fairground worker who is romanced by a Prince incognito played by Norman Kerry. There’s part of the problem as Norman is better at the confident Prince than the lovelorn warrior and the segment after WWI could have done with some trimming, re-editing. There’s also some issues with tone with the unremitting cruelty of the demon Merry-go-Round owner, played by George Siegmann who terrorises his staff, doesn’t care of they live or die and tries to sexually assault, feels very von Stroheim whilst the more romantic interludes, perhaps Julien – accounts vary.

 

But all this said, the film is dramatic and keeps you guessing right until the far from Hollywood ending – it’s not all joyous. It was a smash hit and tonight it looked as fabulous as is possible. It is the most complete version to date and the restorers of this new version spent 20 years conducting a worldwide search, comparing each of the elements shot by shot, to restore tints and scenes in order to reconstruct the whole film in its original form. It's a Hollywood classic with excellent support from Cesare Gravina as Agnes' Punch and Judy man father, George Hackathorne as the steadfast "hunchback" Bartholomew, Edith Yorke (Ursula Urban), the fab Dale Fuller as the wicked fairground owner's terrified wife and Dorothy Wallace as the Countess Kerry's Count is contratually obliged to.

 

Their efforts were supported further by two hours of finely wrought accompaniment from Mauro Colombis, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius – currently the hardest working drummer in show business! The three combined as a tightly together as with the film and for the second night running my arms hurt from too much clapping: just stop it guys!

 

Ludwig Trautmann

Getting to know almost forgotten German, actor, director, writer, producer… Harry Piel’s tricks and flicks. Not for nothing was he known as "the dynamite director" as cars and illicit diamond factories blew up in today’s first film, Das Teufelsauge (The Devil’s Eye) (1914), a breathless adventure spinning at a Paul Auster level of coincidence much like yesterday’s Das Abenteuer Eines Journalisten (1914) whilst also featuring two drops from bridges into water, one more than Erblich Belastet (1913). It was clearly a winning formula although there were gasps when a horse appeared to fall off a bridge and certainly there was a high risk of equine injury when our hero and his pursuers are chased down a very steep sandbank on horseback.

 

Ludwig Trautmann plays François Rennée, an attaché) who is romancing Countess Rita Pignatelli (Anny [Anni] Timm) but, dressed as a Pierrot at one of her parties, gets accused of stealing her crown jewel, The Devil’s Eye… Even though she’s a woman of influence he has to go on the run, and charges off a clown on horseback, jumping of bridges into moving cars, performing a kind of pierotte parkour, a clown in constant motion off to prove his innocence. It’s inventive, comic-book fun and an improbable story well told by Piel.

 

The other Piel film was Das Rollende Hotel (The Rolling Hotel) (1918) was altogether gentler with a young private detective trying to help his friend Editor Tom marry the girl he loves rather than the suitor her father prefers on financial grounds. Even this took us into a wild chase with scenes high in the snow and of a portable hotel/caravan which, as you’d expect, crashed off a bridge and into the waters below! This was a very entertaining film with a lively cast including Heinrich Schroth as Detective Joe Deebs, Josef Ewald as Tom and the girl he wants to marry is Addy played by Käthe Haack who, in reality, chose Heinrich Schroth.

Italia Vitaliani

La Madre (1917), featuring Italia Vitaliani, an almost forgotten Italian Diva from the great age and who was first cousin once removed of Eleonora Duse, who was considered as her rival on stage for technique and naturalistic playing. La Duse influenced everyone from Bertini and Borelli to Asta and it’s rare to see her cousin on screen. Giuseppe Sterni’s film was only recently found and restored in the Netherlands and allows the actress to run through her expressive repertoire as the mother of a would-be artist who finds the wrong muse… she preservers to save him from himself and in her anguish provides him with the perfect portrait.

 

Diva film are perfect little arias that make sense unto themselves, every time I watch I relax and float down stream suspended entirely by belief.

Alternative title

The programme had this next section as Slapstick – Prog 2 "Clowns and Cretins"? I understand why this subtitle was chosen but “cretins” is now an ableist slur used to cover a whole range of neuro-atypical conditions. Yes, André Deed used a number of screen names but Cretinetti Che Bello! was made in 1909, we’re all historian enough to understand the title but we shouldn’t be reducing the significance of this word which, as the father of an ASD son I find uncomfortable.

 

On the bright side Deed is on fine form, with a typically surreal adventure – whatever his name he was anarchic and innovative, tearing himself apart and pulling himself together again.

 

As for the clowns, the famous Fratellini Brothers, François, Paul and Albert, get a chance to show parts of their act and then to fill out the thinnest of plots as they try and work out why Dolorès Braga (Yane Odoni) is the only person in the tent not laughing at their jokes. Dolorès, I’m with you babe, I was traumatised as a small child at Blackpool Tower Circus and I now can’t look at a clown without crying…

Madeline Hurlock, Ben Turpin and Dave Morris

In the battle of two mythical mid-European states Ben Turpin emerged as a surprise winner on account of laughs per minute and the coherence of his ideas in When a Man’s a Prince (1926) leaving Elinor Glyn’s project, The Only Thing (1925) in it’s wake as a confusion of anti-royalist/anti-revolutionary/pro-glamour. Ben’s on top form and the timing is impeccable throughout with a great supporting cast including Madeline Hurlock as a flirty lady-in-waiting, Dave Morris as Grand Duke Ludwig and Blanche Payson Hilda, The Princess of Amazonia!

 

On the plus side, having seen Eleanor Boardman in the deliberately “unglamourous” The Crowd, last month at the BFI, it’s great to see her on the big screen showcasing the kind of style she was famous for. She doesn’t have much to work with but does have good chemistry with the equally decorative Conrad Nagel and the two form a classy bubble in a story also full of Glyn’s entitlement and exploitative cruelty.

 

Boardman is Thyra, Princess of Svendborg, politically forced into a marriage with the ageing King of Chekia (Edward Connelly) and there’s a running joke about how he has ‘orrible big ears as do all of his family, even the one working with the revolutionaries. Its hardly a prospect that would delight and carries uncomfortable echoes of royal marriages before and since. Anyway, she fancies the British noble, he fancies her and yet what could stop her fulfilling her duty? A revolution perhaps, and one involving perhaps a bit too much tortured female flesh and outlandish cruelty for my liking. Mildly grumpy on Day Three... 

 

King Charles, Eleanor Boardman and Conrad Nagel

Another fine day in Pordenone, feels like Wednesday but it’s still barely Tuesday. Weds is Hindle Wakes Day, in fact it’s Wakes Week in so many ways… (niche Yorkshire/Lancashire reference that will make sense come the day!!

Don't dream of clowns...

Prince or poet? Fool’s Paradise (US 1921), with Neil Brand, Le Giornate 40th Edition Streaming, Day Four

 

Well… it starts off in the dusty saloons and shacks of the oil boomtown of El Paso, Texas on the Mexican border, and ends up in the huge eastern temples of Siam with a pit of crocodiles and scantily clad native girls dancing in their dozens as a Prince fights with a formerly blind, former-US army poet, for the hand of a French prima ballerina. Oh, there’s also a dog, Chum, played by one called Pal.

So far so DeMille, we lap it all up and it makes its own sense as the true central character, Poll Patchouli, as played by an outrageously good Dorothy Dalton, anchors all of the extremes with grounded emotions whether she’s heartbroken with the men who hide their love with fear and anger, yearning after opportunities so narrowly missed, sacrificing everything to do right by the man she wrongs or simply burning down the house of her former husband because he just can’t see – even though he now can, thanks to her - how much she loves him.

These two hours of narrative fireworks were accompanied by the controlled flamboyance of Mr Neil Brand who I suspect was wearing a silk cape recording this, matching the twists and torture, the unexpected reptiles and inconsistently gallant monarchs with inventions that were fully embedded in the internal logic of DeMille’s film. Neil and Dorothy knew the job and they got us across the line… this is one that really does require a post-screening discussion into the night at the Bar Posta opposite the Teatro Verdi in Pordenone but, instead, I’ll share my thoughts with you, dear reader, from the Keyboard of Dell in the village of Great Chishill.

Conrad Nagel

This was another in the Giornate’s series of American Women Screenwriters with this story having been co-composed by Beulah Marie Dix and Sada Cowan “suggested” loosely by Leonard Merrick’s quiet short story The Laurels and the Lady which is set in South Africa and has a reptile content of nil. As Leslie Midkiff DeBauche’s programme notes point out, the two women took off on a wild flight but one that was fully controlled by their knowledge of cinematic form, that they make all of this work and in such a satisfying way tonally and morally says as much about their skill as that of DeMille.

So, let’s go to El Paso where ex-serviceman Arthur Phelps (sad-eyed Conrad Nagel) tries to forget the War by remembering his brief meeting with ballerina Rosa Duchene (Mildred Harris), treasuring the handkerchief she gave him and collecting her memorabilia as well as writing what one publisher described as “unoriginal” poetry inspired by her. Many had lost so much in the conflict but Arthur’s sense of perspective rivals his fragile eyesight as his chief injury. Oh, and his broken heart for the ballerina one that he tries to mend with these poems and pictures.

He sees a poster and discovers she is coming to dance in El Paso, surely his dreams will now come true…

Theodore Kosloff and Dorothy Dalton

We switch to a crowded bar full of hostesses and drunken men and run by tough but fair John Rodriguez (Theodore Kosloff) who I thought was an interesting character, one who is genuinely motivated and not just a black hatted counterpoint. The real drama is generated by Arthur’s relationship to women, firstly Rosa but, more importantly Poll who at the start of the film is working at Rodriguez’s place and is the subject of his affections.

Poll may be a showgirl but she has her own code and chases a middle-aged customer out of the saloon when he brings a younger girl in with him. She helps the youngster out of the window and then follows, teasing Rodriguez by sticking her tongue out at his masculine frustration. He sends his men after her and she ends up taking refuge at Arthur’s place where he chivalrously sleeps on the bench out front with his dog, Chum (played by Pal…)

Poll takes a shine to the poet and is convinced he needs the love of a good women rather than posters and models of unreachable stage stars, but Arthur refuses to drop his dream. Frustrated, Poll plays a trick on him by giving him an exploding cigar from the store… it’s only meant to puncture his arty dreams but it has a disastrous impact on his sight and, by the time he’s finally watching Rosa dance again his sight is disappearing.

John admires his tiny dancer...

One thing leads to another and, Poll decides to make up for her unintended cruelty by pretending to be Rosa, returned to her soldier boy and willing to give up the dance. It’s so loaded with melodramatic intensity it’s in danger of collapsing into hysterics and yet Dalton’s down-to-earth believability caries it off without mawkishness or over sentimentality. This great deceit is an emblem of the lies we tell all the time… and as ever the truth will out.

Poll spots an advert for a revolutionary new surgical procedure that could enable Arthur to see again, she decides to take the risk that her deception will be recognised for the loving gesture that it is but no, even with his eyes wide open Arthur’s heart of closed and, at the same time he’s also informed that oil has been discovered on his land and he’s now a millionaire. Why not? Sure, we’ve all had days like those…

Siam, California

Arthur does the daft thing, divorces Poll, and heads of to find his Rosa who by this stage is in Siam and researching temple dancing techniques for her next ballet. She’s also attracting the attention of Prince Talat-Noi (John Davidson), much to the disgust of his chief wife (Julia Faye), although we don’t know how the lower-raking ones feel. There are some amazing sets here not to mention gorgeous costumery designed by Clare West, Mitchell Leisen and Natacha Rambova – married to Valentino and also a collaborator with Nazimova.

Rosa is fickle and also quite cruel and gets the Prince and Arthur to retrieve her glove from a crocodile pit… could it be that her only love is that she gets from the admiration of her audience? Anyway, reptiles vs men, men vs men… this can only end one way or will it. Poll and El Paso show a different solution and it is, of course, based on love.

Conrad Nagel and Dorothy Dalton

Magically manic, this is the DeMille and shows how complete his method was by 1921 with echoes of his Swanson vehicles in terms of the mix of epic and exotic. A real crowd-pleaser and whilst I wish I’d been in a crowd to see it I enjoyed it all the same.

Catch it today if you can, it’s available until 8pm UK time.

Unsolvable... The Mysterious Lady (1928) with Carl Davis and the Philharmonia Orchestra, Royal Festival Hall

In the stalls at the Festival Hall there was no option but to just sit back and surrender to Carl Davis’ sound and Greta Garbo’s fury; both were overwhelming in their own way and the result was a unity of music and expression that you won’t find in Cineworld.

Crossing Hungerford Bridge after the show, I heard a complaint that the score had been “too loud” and “ill-matched” to the action but this is an opera without words and Garbo is radiating the same intensity as a stage full of singers with Puccini on full volume. If you want your Swede’s subtle and “silent” then maybe try some Ingmar Bergman instead?

The tempo is set early on when Austrian solder Captain Karl von Raden (Conrad Nagel) gets a last-minute ticket for the opera and finds Tania Fedorova (Greta Garbo) elegantly draping herself over the edge of their box as she watches Tosca. Karl is mesmerised and can hardly focus on the events on stage and Mr Davis’ score cleverly captures this by accompanying the interplay between the two leads as well as the performance on stage, quoting from the opera itself. Allegedly it’s an uncredited Betty Blythe playing the opera singer, but Conrad only has eyes for Tania… just as she planned (the minx!).

He doesn't even need to see her face...

Tania was due to meet her cousin, but he fails to turn up and, what do you know, she’s left her purse at home… like any gentleman faced with such a situation, Captain Karl races to the rescue and escorts her home in a handsome cab. He almost leaves only to find he has Tania’s carefully forgotten silk, returning it to her he accepts her offer of a “coffee” and enters her apartment not only abandoning all hope of an early night but also leaving his cab driver to soak in the pouring rain. Director Fred Niblo plays this for laughs and thankfully keeps the drama mellow just as Garbo herself injects the odd twinkle among the smouldering.

It’s been a while since I watched Greta in Hollywood and you can fully understand the impact she had on the American public with a forthright sexuality that slinked and scolded and yet was self-determined and not fully revealed. As author Zadie Smith recently put it, Garbo exhibited an “inviable selfhood, ultimately impenetrable by other people.” Here as elsewhere, Garbo’s character has a secret and yet another secret beyond that too… In the first instance she is a Russian spy and she has deliberately targeted the young Captain in order to take advantage but it’s a role she takes far more intensely than necessary.

Conrad Nagel and Greta Garbo

We are in Vienna in 1910 and Europe is bracing itself for conflict as the Russians and Germans eye the Balkans and each other. After their night after the Opera and a “perfect day” in the sun, the Captain is informed of Tania’s day job and is suitably vexed. Karl has a vital package to take to Berlin and his career and many lives depend on it, but he’s followed by Tania who “comes to him as his lover and leaves as his enemy…” such a difficult woman this mysterious lady.

She has the secrets and Karl has a court martial, ritually humiliated in front of his regiment who turn their backs as he is stripped of insignias and medals before being thrown in jail for treason. He’s given a shot at redemption when released by his uncle Colonel Eric von Raden (Edward Connelly) who sets him up with a trip to Warsaw under the guise of a Serbian pianist.

Karl naturally finds Tania at a cocktail party and plays Vissi d’arte, their aria… she turns in shock to find him playing these dangerous chords and luckily decides to follow her heart. But Tania is under the wing of General Boris Alexandroff (Gustav von Seyffertitz) and whilst he won’t wait forever for her to surrender to his very limited charms, he is also very suspicious of the pretty pianist. And why does he keep on playing Pucccini?!

The Mysterious Lady is a symphony of Garbo in shimmering silk and magnificently shaded close ups - devised and shot by William H Daniels, who specialised in setting up that face for the most devastating effect.  It works optically of course but all the more so because of the specific mysteries of the actress’ expression; she is constantly wrong-footing the watcher’s expectations with distracted agitation and we look that bit harder almost seeking her reassurance. She rides the edge of defined emotional response in a way that haunts us still. Worn down by pretty much everything at this point in America, film critic Alexander Walker describes how Garbo managed to make her exhaustion look like "romantic agony..." and that "...no film so clearly shows that, for Garbo, passion was a form of tragic depression."

For his part Conrad Nagel was ill-served by the example of Lars Hanson in the surviving nine minutes of The Divine Woman shown before the main feature. Large Handsome can go toe-to-toe with his compatriot and even deluged in dozens of Garbo kisses and with the actress – shockingly and perhaps to him, surprisingly – grabbing him by the hair, he keeps on responding no doubt urged on by guttural Swedish encouragement from director Victor Sjostrom. Conrad’s no dummy but he is outshone by the divine energy of his co-star as were so many others.

Lars and Greta amidst the rough and tumble

Such a shame that only one reel of The Divine Woman survives but what an explosive section it is as Lars and Greta play forcefully for each other’s affections as the clock ticks away his last moments before he must depart with his regiment: they have only right now and, as it happens, so do we.

Carl Davis conducted his own scores and he had the full might of the Philharmonia crammed on stage with him – an 87-piece ensemble of intricate power augmented by piano, harp and possibly even the sink from Carl’s kitchen. The score referenced far beyond my limited experience of contemporary classical music but was as expertly constructed around image and acting as you would expect: you don’t need to understand the method just feel the results. As with actress so with composer.

The natural volume of such an orchestra is quite different from the amplified power of, say, Mogwai who I have also seen in the Royal Festival Hall (front row, right by the bass speaker…) but the results are the same minus the ringing ears. This is music with which you have a tangible connection and which, interwoven with the action on screen leaves you stirred and smiling as those silent film endorphins race around for a few hours still. 

Both these films are available on the Garbo Silents collection from TCM, but you haven’t really lived them until you’ve watched them in cinema with Carl’s band.

Hearts of darkness… West of Zanzibar (1928) & Kongo (1932)

Mr Chaney

It says a lot about the shift in audience tastes that both these film were produced so differently in just a four year period.  Technically, of course, one’s a talkie but how much did that influence the presentation of what are both fairly claustrophobic tales? The former film could easily have been a talkie such is the focus on Lon Chaney whilst parts of the latter could work equally well as a silent with so much superb physicality from Walter Huston in the same role
.

A number of people have written about the talkie after watching the silent but I’ve done it the other way round: not much of a USP but it’ll have to do. The sound film struck me as incredibly lacking in hope and more than unnecessarily sleazy whereas the original trusts in Lon Chaney to act his way through the outlandish narrative emerging with something like believable redemption. Huston’s so far damned St Peter’s bookies have stopped taking bets on which level of Hell he’ll end up in… but for Lon… Purgatory is still a long shot.

Mr Huston

The sound film starts in the heart of darkness whereas the silent explains the backstory more clearly and our sympathy is in place for a more morally-complex story. Maybe it’s slower than the sound, or maybe they just wanted to get straight to the steamy action, a more than vague hint of sadomasochism and eye-popping views of Ida Lupino’s exceptionally tight dress.

But in silence, we get caught up with another tragedy for Lon Chaney and his acting, as always, is peerless. Not that it’s so cut and dried as Walter Huston is no slouch and played the role first, starring in the 1926 Broadway play by Chester de Vonde.

Silent back-story: Phroso and Anna

In the Browning version, we see Chaney’s character in civilisation – a stage act called Phroso – another of his tragic clowns – who is very much in love with his wife Anna (Jacqueline Gadsden). Sadly, Anna’s not getting what she wants from the relationship and is making eyes at another performer, Crane (Lionel Barrymore). Anna decides to leave with Crane and in the bitter altercation that follows, Phroso is pushed from on high, falling silently, his legs lost for ever. It’s a tragedy and we feel for Phroso…

Cut forward to the talkie, directed by William J. Cowen, we start only with Huston now known as “Deadlegs” Flint. He drags himself around with the determined ease of a man who has had to re-purpose his body and who force of will still enables him to dominate all those around him. He’s a self-made monster driven on pure indignation with his remaining faculties refined by pure hate. We only discover the cause of his burning hatred later.

Flint holds court over a group of misfits all of whom are physically and mentally incapable of leaving his domain. There’s the English Cookie Harris (Forrester Harvey) whose criminal past locks him into African exile, Hogan (Mitchell Lewis)  and a woman whose purpose can only be guessed at, Tula (Lupe Velez  who is distractedly wrapped in a very pre-code cloth).

Lupe Velez and Walter Houston

This is very much the heart of darkness and Flint maintains control over the locals through magic tricks and stage craft, persuading them to do his bidding in stealing ivory from competitors. He’s saving up for a rainy day and the visit of an old friend… here called Gregg (C. Henry Gordon).

Phroso too has created his little empire on the same basis but his entourage is rather more homely – even including a Doctor (Warner Baxter) there to help control his constant pain. “Dead-Legs” Phroso has his men and the natives steal directly from Crane and his plan becomes clearer early on: he has been keeping tabs on a woman born to his ex-wife while she was with Crane and is intent on dragging her from her protected world into his as a part of his ultimate revenge on Crane.

Lionel Barrymore and C. Henry Gordon

The girl, Maizie, (played by Mary Nolan) arrives and is soon degraded and turned to drink by his vengeful master. Phroso will break her father’s business and force him to come to deal with him and thereby find the humiliated husk of his daughter…

Back in 1932 – is this getting confusing? – Flint has used a mixture of drugs, slavery and drink to pervert not only the girl, here called Ann Whitehall (Virginia Bruce) but also the doctor, (Conrad Nagel) who comes along just before she arrives. The two are helpless, addicted and drained with Crane intent on killing them both as softly as it takes…

Mary Nolan - before

The modern vogue for “pre-code” is based on seeking out evidence of a continuity of thought – un-guarded expressions regarding crime, sexuality and the desire to lift both legs up from the floor onto the bed should the need so arise. But this film is so dark I’ve even seen modern commentators describe it as more than a little depraved.

In 1928 a lot was left to the imagination and Chaney’s unmatched expressiveness carries across so much more than just a reptilian thirst for revenge.

He encounters his nemesis and the end game begins with Lionel Barrymore’s Crane edging C. Henry Gordon’s Gregg – he is much fuller as a character and his greater role in the plot is another way the story is made more complete.

Virginia Bruce - after

Flint’s actions, remaining unexplained largely, carry less impact and are seemingly just sadistic for the heck of it until long into the story. Phroso has motivation, if not necessarily full sympathy, but that may come later.

The two doctors are men of honour, the talker perhaps the less strong-minded but both the young women perform well – both pulled down from their pure-mannered education to the life of drug-addled, jungle prostitution:  Virginia Bruce just edging it with her words actually giving her the advantage over Mary Nolan for the only time in the contest.

Warner Baxter, Conrad Nagel and Virginia Bruce

No spoilers… how could I? This isn’t just one film but two although I’d strongly recommend a hot bath after the talkie and a strong drink after the silent.

Walter Huston does give a spectacular performance as the man with mind and body twisted by the need for the most distasteful revenge against the man who robbed him of his wife and his legs. But Lon Chaney edges it for his uncanny physicality: you believe his legs are useless and you not only hate him you cry for his loss as well.

Both films are available from Warner Archives the talkie is here and the silent is here.

Shearer vs Shearer… The Divorcee (1930) and Their Own Desire (1929)

In 1930 Norma Shearer was nominated for two Oscars for her performances in each of these films winning on Divorce but losing on Desire. Sometimes too easily associated with her mighty husband Irving Thalberg, Ms Shearer deserves a lot of credit for evolving screen acting from silent to sound along with Greta, Joan and co.

I like her relaxed focus, her uncluttered expressiveness and the unconscious way she’ll pay attention to the granular details in order to reinforce the naturalistic surface. She has energy – literally – standing up against the men as well as a wit and native intelligence which transcends her characters.

Norma Shearer

Then there was her look… falling somewhere between Clara/Jean’s inherent sexiness and Garbo’s ethereality, Norma had a naturally-fascinating face, one you could see on many streets but one that came to life on screen animated by a gentle expressiveness that presents convincingly as real.
In these early sound  films her voice can come across as slightly shrill and high pitched but that’s technology as much as technique and is more noticeable in Desire than Divorce. She may not have had Greta’s range or Joan’s ferocity but she was a force to be reckoned with even for her husband.

Norma gives Robert Montgomery a piece of her mind

Famously, Joan Crawford was up for the part in Their Own Desire with even Thalberg doubting his wife’s ability to sex-up. Norma’s response was to commission a photo shoot that so emphatically proved her point that she got the part. That’s acting… and the assurance of the moral high ground at home for months.

The nominees include… Their Own Desire (1929)

Belle Bennett, Norma and Lewis Stone

Their Own Desire was directed by E. Mason Hopper, written by the ubiquitous Frances Marion based on the novel by Sarita Fuller. It was released just after Christmas in 1929 and is a slick early talkie with evident “pre-code” leanings…

Cue Norma in tight top and jodhpurs (the swim suit comes later…) taking part in a polo game, playing daughter Lucy - aka “Lally” - to her lovingly-competitive dad, Henry Marlett (Lewis Stone). She falls and there are anxious minutes as she recovers yet she won’t let a little winding slow her down.

A bit like my weekends...

Back home to see mother, Harriet (Belle Bennett) who seems old before her time, especially in comparison to the widow Beth Cheever (Helene Millard) a woman who hasn’t forgotten where the peroxide bottle is. She’s clearly on the lookout and, whilst Lally makes fun of this she doesn’t suspect that there’ be any danger…

Cut forward some months and the worst has come to the worst and Lally still knows nothing even after her parents have agreed to divorce which they are hoping to disguise by her and mother going off to Europe for a few months…

The other woman...

But Lally blunders across the truth when she walks into her father’s workshop to find him and Mrs Cheever in a compromising cuddle. She can’t take it all in and refuses to balance her father’s wish to spend time with “The one” against her mother’s misery.

Meeting Mr Wrong?

Team Mom heads off on their break and Lally meets a sparky young man called John (Robert Montgomery) whilst demonstrating a sleek swimsuit at the local Lido. He sneaks a sub-aquatic kiss and a romance begins. All is swimmingly-swell until a fateful moment when he reveals himself to be Mrs Cheever’s son.

Oh delicious pain… Can Lally be involved with the son of the woman who ruined her parent’s marriage? No spoilers… 

And the winner is… The Divorcee (1930)

This film was released just under four months later and, allowing for the Thalberg’s Christmas break and January skiing holiday, must have taken less than three months to produce.

Directed by Robert Z. Leonard from a novel by Ursula Parrott, The Divorcee is a “tighter” film and less obviously melodramatic than Desire. The drama comes out of the central couple’s relationship and the eternal questions of fidelity and communication between men and women.

The guests are all shocked in different ways...

It starts off with a gathered of NYC high-flyers at a large log cabin – large enough to include the wise-cracking housekeeper Dorothy (Judith Wood) and separate rooms all round.

As the jollity proceeds, everyone wonders where Ted (Chester Morris) and Jerry (Norma Shearer) are? Jerry’s former/nearly-love (?) Paul (Conrad Nagel) stands watch at the door; still hoping, still pining whilst a young woman Dorothy (Judith Wood) looks longingly at him: a daisy chain of the disappointed.

Ted and Jerry encouraged by a local youth...

We cut to Jerry and Ted enjoying some affectionate larks by a stream as he kind of pops the questions and she, kind of, accepts – it’s carefree as emphasised by a young boy urging her to say yes “for the love of Mike” as he waits to resume his fishing… They return to the party to congratulation and celebration led by Ted’s best mate Don (Robert Montgomery – again!) as Paul turns quickly to the bar with disastrous results. As everyone leaves he crashes his car disfiguring Dorothy for life and eventually marrying her out of the obligation of pity.

Shifting forward three years we re-join the crowd at a party to mark Ted and Jerry’s anniversary. All looks to have been blissful until an uninvited guest arrives: Janice (Mary Doran), a woman who seems on familiar terms with Ted.

Oops!

Now comes the test as Ted reveals to Jerry that he had a one-night stand with Janice…. Protesting that “it “doesn’t mean a thing…” Ted clearly isn’t able to admit or comprehend the huge misstep he’s taken and, with a business trip looming, he’s about to be away from two whole weeks before he and Jerry can really process the betrayal… and, by the time he gets back things have developed momentum.

Ted departs that night and one thing leads to another as Jerry  gets tipsy with kind, loyal Don and, as the curtains are drawn in his apartment Jerry decides to “balance the account”.

Jerry about to balance the account...

Jerry’s not really that kind of girl and on Ted’s return, as he tries to go back to normal she reveals the truth (careful to keep Don’s name out of it). Oddly enough Ted takes this badly and seems to have lost touch with the whole “meaning nothing” vibe... He loses it and Jerry, realising by now that she’s married to a narrow-minded hypocrite, decides to become the kind of lady that he imagines men to be: she will enjoy herself.

Ted turns to drink and runs off to Europe whilst Jerry enjoys a string of relationships smartly represented by various tableaux involving Jerry’s and a variety of suitors’ hands as they hit the towns… Are they punishing themselves or trying to run away? The escape is going well until Jerry finally runs into Paul again…

The Divorcee is a better film than Desires both technically and in terms of content but I think Norma Shearer’s performances are equally good in both and she is the main reason to view. For all the sexy pre-code accoutrements – infidelity, wine and skimpy – both films are ultimately morality tales that promote the values of loyalty, forgiveness and the importance of love over pride.

The Divorcee is available as part of the Forbidden Hollywood box set volume two whilst Their Own Desire is on Warner Archives DVD.