Everywoman … Yes or No (1920), with José María Serralde Ruiz, Giornate del Cinema Muto, Streaming Day Two

 

Which is worse? A woman who has love and no marriage or a woman who has marriage and no love?

This year’s festival has a welcome strand on the great but otherwise slightly neglected, Norma Talmadge. Norma’s star does not burnish quite as bright in comparison with some of her peers, Mary, Lillian, Gloria and Mabel and they were all born between 1892 and 1894. Talmadge started at about the same time, with her first film in 1909, aged 15, and made hundreds of shorts before establishing her own production company with husband, producer Joseph M. Schenck in 1917 and going on to greater heights. A poll of picture exhibitors named Norma the number-one box office star in 1923 and the following year she starred in Frank Borzage’s Secrets, perhaps her best film alongside The Lady (1925) with the same director - and screening later this week! – Sidney Franklin’s Smiling Through (1922) and the comedy Kiki (1926) directed by Clarence Brown.

Perhaps she is too associated with Schenck in some minds and, for one reason or another, her career declined after their split in 1926, after she’d fallen for Gilbert Roland, even though Joe kept on supporting her commercially even as the ticket sales slowed and talkies loomed. New York Nights (1929) showed she could have cut it, there’s little of her Brooklyn accent, but when you’ve spent two thirds of your life acting, and you don’t ever need to work again, you can imagine why she would walk away.

Norma as the wealthy socialite

On her day I would contend that she was technically as good as anyone in terms of controlled screen emoting, beautiful and believable and just very, very competent without the intensity of Gish, the universality of Pickford or the quirks and comedy of Swanson or Normand. She was a kind of everywoman who excelled in melodramas, a big hit performer but one more of her time (oh, how I hate that phrase) in terms of style and fashion. As a screen phenomenon she’s up there though and worthy of study and respect; historically important, a wizard and a true star!

So, what we have is what we have and it’s great to see the two films streamed today, one a punchy short from early in her career, Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins (1912) and the other a typical hit from her imperial period, Yes or No (1920). Based on an interesting stage experiment written by Arthur Goodrich, which featured a split stage showing a rich and poor wife as they reach a crisis in their marriage, it allows Talmadge to play two characters, in the manner of say Mary Pickford in Stella Maris (1918) and, indeed, herself in The Forbidden City (1918) and Smilin’ Through, whilst she doesn’t match Pickford’s physicality, she does convince in both roles.

“Miss Talmadge wears a wig and some fine clothes in the one character, and her own tresses and calico in the other role, with equal grace.” J.S. Dickerson in Motion Picture News (17.07.1920)

Natalie Talmadge giving screen brother some stick.

Directed by R. William Neill, this Yes or No, splits the action between the two worlds with the emphasis more on the less predictable and more dramatically rewarding “poor story”. It’s a century old morality play and you really have to take that for what it’s worth.

We start in the spacious boudoir of the rich Margaret Vane who is fretting over a party she wants to have knowing that her businessman husband, Donald (Frederick Burton) is unlikely to be free to attend. Donald has health issues but he works his failing heart out for his wife to keep her in the manner to which she is accustomed to. It’s a miscommunication of almost Antonionian proportions and the harder he tries for her the more she feels ignored.

Margaret’s maid is Emma Martin played by Natalie, Talmadge Sister No. 3, as a feisty character who gives far better than she gets with the mostly useless men, whist also providing steadfast service for Margaret Vane. It’s good to see this most neglected of Talmadges in a dramatic role, she’s not got Constance’s pep nor Norma’s beautiful range but she’s no slouch as I’m pretty certain Mr Keaton discovered… Peg Talmadge didn’t raise any pushovers.

Gladden James up to no good...

Emma, appropriately enough, is sister to Minnie Berry (Norma again) who is the hardest-working mother in the bowery, feeding her two kids, husband, Jack (the always upstanding Rockcliffe Fellowes), and their lodger, Ted Leach (Gladden James who, lets be honest, is always trouble). Jack works all the hours God sends and studies in the evenings, desperate to make a better future for his family but this leaves Minnie at home and just a little bored. This Ted notices and he has plans to split the marriage just as, uptown, the sleazy Paul Derreck (Lowell Sherman), aims to woo Margaret away from her all work and no play hubbie.

Remembering the film’s called Yes or No, the women may have different answers to these propositions and to find out… you’ll have to seek this film out. Certainly, this is an impressive example of Peak Norma and you can fully understand how her millions of female fans would have responded to this fundamental answer to eternal questioning. Maybe because we’ve moved on so much as a society, we can be too complacent about the moral implications but not always and not all the time. No means no, means no.

Norma's character is very unsure of Paul...

Almost a decade before, a teenage Norma was playing her part in Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins (1912) a light comedy about a feuding family with father Noah (Van Dyke Brooke) who prefers the rough charms of bullying pugilist (Bill Brown) to his daughter Liza’s favourite ‘Enry (Maurice Costello). It’s knockabout fun and Norma stands out for having more about her than anyone else amongst the chaos. This was how to make your way in pictures; keep on top of the brief and get noticed.

José María Serralde Ruiz played along with suitable gusto and in that way the best players do, minded the viewer of 1920 emotionally as well as musically.

Talking of which, we also had maestro Stephen Horne streaming on Day Two… more on that later.

Larks in Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins 

Back home… Penrod and Sam (1923) with Stephen Horne, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto 39

 

Every October we travel in time and space to Pordenone in north-western Italy for a week of silent film, socialising and the odd few hours of sleep. In these Covid-curtailed times we’re still transported digitally and emotionally if not physically by the streaming of an event many call home, as Le Giornate Cinema Muto goes online-only. It’s the best we could hope for as we hope for the best… for cinema and for culture.

 

Festival director Jay Weissberg captured the moment as he introduced a collection of travelogues, taking us from monochrome New York to silent London, via tinted Ostend and eternal Egypt, a magical carpet ride of spaces and people that are recognisably the same as those we know. He quoted from a Michel Robida article: “A journey in one’s armchair – a journey of the mind – is the nicest kind of journey, because it’s what we want it to be, because there are no obstacles, and all our dreams are granted.”*

 

There’s certainly something dreamlike about the Svenska Biografteatern footage of New York from 1911 – used in August Blom’s Danish film, Atlantis (1913) amongst others – which captures the attitude of the locals proudly being photographed in front of impossibly tall buildings, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square, the Flatiron Building on 5^th Avenue and Broadway… It’s a glimpse of the future world as viewed by our great grandparents – railways over head and below, constant motion as motor cars vie with horse-drawn carriages and electric trams, with one family standing out as they’re chauffeured behind the ghost camera, that of Antoinette Lochowicz, identifiable via its number plate.

 

Accompaniment for our tour was provided by Mexico’s José María Serralde Ruiz, whose well-travelled improvisations perfectly matched our feelings of awe and longing, trapped, as surely now as the moment when the light first struck the nitrate elements of the time.

 

Tonight’s main feature was the recently restored Penrod and Sam (1923), the second of the film adaptations of Booth Tarkington’s novels about young Penrod Schofield as he grows up in a small town that is an idealised mid-western America before the Great War. Tarkington wrote three books on Penrod, and later The Magnificent Ambersons, and there are public domain audiobooks of his trilogy if you’d like to hear more. The story as seen through the film, is something of an updated Tom Sawyer, with plenty of underlying adult themes if you look hard enough.

Sam (Joe Butterworth) and Penrod (Ben Alexander)

The opening title cards dedicate the film to “The spirit of Boyhood which always has been and always will be the same… “ and what follows is a superb capturing of childhood concerns from director William Beaudine who brings out some extraordinary performances from his cast of kids and, indeed, their pets – take a bow Cameo aka the noble Duke, Penrod’s dog. Beaudine was adept at working with youth and went on to direct Mary Pickford’s child-like fable Sparrows (1926) as well as a talkie remake of this film in 1931 and many more including Billy the Kid Versus Dracula (1966) which may or may not be as childish as it sounds.

 

Right here in 1923, he captured the life of a pre-teen as accurately as the Swedes shot those New York streets with be-freckled Ben Alexander (11 and a ½) coached and edited to a very impressive performance as the pugnacious Penfold. Penfold, together with his best mate Sam Williams (Joe Butterworth), lead a gang of boys dedicated to re-enacting battles based on very-specific childish logic and they also have a boys-only members club called the In-Or-In Lodge, which has a strict no-girls allowed policy – not even for Majorie Jones, Penfold’s “most beautiful girl in the world” – and a rigorous ’nishiashun ceremony.

Penfold is immediately shown to be, almost literally, at war with big Roddy Bitts (Buddy Messinger) the son of the richest man in town, and the story starts with light-hearted run ins between Roddy’s rebels and Penfold’s “Federal” forces. The rules of engagement are largely non-contact and wooden swordfights can only be won by first contact with the opponent’s clothing.

Boy's club

Interestingly Roddy’s most valiant soldiers are his “colors”, two black brothers Verman (Joe McCray) and the younger Herman (Gene Jackson) who are both treated as equals in the gangs even though they look noticeably poorer. Again, both lads give excellent performances and their position in the film feels so much more natural than other black performers in many other productions of the time.

 

Herman gets captured by Penrod and Sam and hidden in Penrod’s elder sister’s wardrobe until further notice. War is Hell.

 

We soon get to meet that sister, Margaret, (Mary Philbin, who’s next film was a staring one, in Erich von Stroheim’s Merry-Go-Round) as well as the parents, Dad (the super Rockcliffe Fellowes) and Mom (Gladys Brockwell, possibly Brooklyn’s eye-roll champion of 1915…) and the family dynamic unfolds. Dad’s about business, his evening cigar and the newspaper whilst Mom looks after the housework not covered by their black housemaid and Margaret is in love with Robert Williams (Gareth Hughes), Sam’s elder brother.

Ideal American Family

Herman’s escape from his wardrobe cell, hidden under one of Margaret’s dresses is typical of the tone of the film’s mostly slapstick first half but things do take a darker turn as the boys themselves take things too far in victimising their underserving enemies, bookish Georgie Bassett (Newton Hall), whilst their deserving ones, Robby, backed up by Dad (William V. Mong), up the ante by levelling false accusations and getting Penrod a “good lashing” from his father’s belt.

 

There’s a growing dislike between Penrod and Robby that gets more intense and, as they’re destined to become grown-up rivals like their fathers, there’s no particular happy ending other than the wealthiest having the fewest real friends. Even Mr Burns has Smithers…

Mary Philbin and Gladys Brockwell

Stephen Horne’s accompaniment played deeply on the narrative and emotional vectors as he presented slapstick lines at helter-skelter pace, aiming, as he said in the after screening discussion, “… to create the feeling that it was fun but… slightly out of control and that at some point (the fun) would come to an abrupt halt!” It was the kind of sure-fingered and thematically premeditated improvisation we’ve come to expect from Mr Horne and he rounded off the viewing experience with rich dashes of humour and a melodic flourish.

 

Also in the discussion, Katherine Fusco, associate professor of English at the University of Nevada, Reno, observed that the boys are imitating the adults and also instructing them as it is only through remembering how it felt to be a boy that Penrod’s father is able to help his son whereas Robbie’s Dad is millions of dollars away from being able to empathise. This has echoes today but it's fascinating to see how US writers and film makers have always been suspicious of capital wealth – not so much as socialists - far from it - but in the way that money brings conflicted priorities that, if not addressed after salutary lessons are learned, will bring nothing but bad fortune to you and those you are supposed to love.

Celebrating the spirit of '76!

So, Penrod and Sam was far from child’s play (sorry) and is a typical Pordenone gem, one that was very well polished by this Library of Congress restoration!

 

More to come for the next week and full details are on the festival website. The films are available to view for 24 hours so you can still catch the show if you’re quick.

 

* Images de Paris. Girouettes. Les rêves tournent au gré des vents, La Presse, 22^nd October 1934

Duke waits to hear his master's voice...

Pordenone