Polly of the Circus

This was the first production of Goldwyn Pictures and the story is quite different (and better!) than the 1932 remake starring Marion Davies. Mae Marsh as Polly is literally born into the circus and orphaned as a child when her aerialist mother falls from the wires. Young Polly is raised by Toby, a circus clown, and becomes a trick bareback rider. She is badly injured in the ring and is taken to the nearby home of a minister (played by Vernon Steele) to recover. Polly thrives during her stay of several months, and the pair fall in love. Naturally, the town gossips are agog. After learning that Toby has fallen ill and needs money for a doctor, she enters a horse race with her circus mount Bingo and wins. But it's too late, Toby has died. After a few more downward turns, it all works out in the end. Mae was sweet, the horse race exciting and well-shot and the circus scenes (featuring a real circus) are authentic.

The first goldwyn picture pulls out all the stops - the racing scenes are as good as it gets - circus scenes brilliant - acting is great

Oh, silent films, At their best they stand tall with the greatest titles that cinema has had to offer in all the years since "talkies" first premiered. Even when a silent picture is less than perfect, they still tend to be duly entertaining - yet at their most unwieldy, these early movies bear unmistakable indelicacies that limit our engagement. Such difficulties may include (and are not limited to) stilted plot development, an overwhelming sense of staged inauthenticity in the way each scene is put together, or overzealous use of intertitles that make a feature feel more like the simple relation of written words with select moments given visual depiction. To varying degrees, 1917's 'Polly of the circus' seems to carry each of these issues. That doesn't mean that it's not enjoyable, or a suitable diversion in its own right - but I think this may land among those silent pictures that typify what some modern viewers, struggling to engross themselves in the era, find arduous about it.

That's the bad news, alongside use of blackface (sigh), instances of sexism, and the fact that this probably isn't a movie I'd suggest for someone who isn't already enamored with silent films. Still - 'Polly' is an admirable production, rather grand when you consider the many extras, the build of scenes including circus acts, stunts generally, and the animals involved. The feature plays with timeless themes: frivolity versus uptight social expectations; relatively progressive values (as reduced to a direly simplified representation here as "the entertainment industry") versus tradition and moralizing cultural norms; charity and compassion versus zealotry and unmoving rigidity in personal beliefs; maturation and personal growth; young love; and so on. Whether these themes are utilized to meaningful ends is one question for each viewer to ask for themselves - and another is if these themes are overdone, undercooked, or just right as they appear.

For what it's worth, more so than not I think 'Polly of the circus' comes off as a success. True, even putting aside specific thematic content, there are antiquated norms and values herein that one must abide. However, I'm gratified to say that these are actually repudiated by the film in its course of events. Moreover, the narrative is complete, and compelling enough to hold at least my interest. Intertitles and characters serve their purpose; scenes are capably dynamic in their writing and realization to keep one's attention, if not raptly. Yes, very plainly, some bits are certainly more rich, absorbing, and otherwise worthy than others - but then, so it is with most movies, no? The performances of the cast are likewise just stimulating enough, characterized by modest illustration of nuance, range, and physicality, to provide some believable hint of the actors' skills, and to bring the roles to life.

I think one needs to remember that 'Polly of the circus' is a product of its time - not to excuse any problems it may have, but to reflect that the type of entertainment it has to provide is much simpler, geared for a different audience in a time and society that has changed so very much. If I were watching this in 1917, maybe I'd be singing another tune. Even with that context, though, I think this effectively only just rises above being merely "passable." I like it well enough - honestly, I want to like it more than I do, and at the same time wonder if I'm being too generous. But I think it's safe to say this is a picture to view out of curiosity and broad interest in cinema rather than particular need or desire. Everyone involved does their part, and does it well, to craft the motion picture. It's just that even with a strong finish, the end result doesn't wholly demand viewership in the way the best of movies do; the real-life history of the title (its special meaning for Goldwyn Pictures, which would in time become MGM; its seeming loss, and eventual discovery in the Yukon) almost threatens to overshadow the content.

'Polly of the circus' is worthwhile if you happen to come across it, but I don't think you need to go out of your way for it. Recommendable especially for those who already have a soft spot for the silent era.

194 years after the movie and we still have pharisees in the church - judging others and pointing their boney old fingers without showing love, or mercy.

Pointing this out was the highlight of this movie.

It is a pity the final scenes were so rushed, there needed to be another fifteen minutes to wrap things up without rushing it so much.

This early Goldwyn picture is an ambitious piece that intended to nurture not only the corporation, but its star, Mae Marsh, recently poached from D.W. Griffith. It is a pretty good effort, with its Mark Twain-style opening, although the many titles and overt sentiment drag a bit until Lilian Ward falls from the high wire.

After all the kids grow up, a decent plot involving ministers, the circus and a well-photographed horse race ensue and matters are satisfactorily resolved at the end. The modern viewer may have some issues, like the white actors in blackface, but Mae Marsh is her charming, fluttery self. It was undoubtedly an excellent money-maker for the Goldwyn Corporation (later MGM) and a boost in the careers of not only the uncannily named Edwin Hollywood, but cinematographer George W. Hill, who a dozen years later would be MGM's go-to director for rough fare.