Verkaufte Töchter

Silent movie with music soundtrack is best known today for being the movie that made Joan Crawford a star. She's good here but shown up by Anita Page, whose drunken histrionics provide the movie with its life. The lack of vocal dialogue greatly helps the presence of Johnny Mack Brown, possessor of one of the worst Southern accents the big screen ever saw. First half hour is a little tedious. It's a series of scattered scenes showing flappers hoofing it up and bickering with their mothers who don't want them to be tramps. The rest of the film deals with love triangle between Crawford, Mack, and Page. The over-the-top ending is the best part. Good for curiosity's sake.

The movie that launched Joan Crawford's career, and which so nicely captured some of the spirit of the flappers in the late 1920's. The scenes of her cutting loose with the Charleston amidst art deco furnishings are certainly the highlight. The plot itself is a pretty thin morality tale. Crawford and Anita Page pursue the same newly minted millionaire, who confuses who is "the pure one" and of course gets it wrong. Perhaps it's understandable, since there is a lot of dancing, legs, and playful kissing of guy friends to go around. There is an undercurrent of the double standard common for the time (how interesting this was made in the same year Woolf gave her 'A Room of One's Own' speeches); Dorothy Sebastian plays another character who must live down her past, and convince her husband to forgive her for it.

The movie is silent and not in the greatest shape anymore, but that might have added a little to its charm. It's also interesting to see the short hairstyles, cloche hats, and the dialog:

Offering a drink: "Li'l hot baby want a cool li'l sip?"

After a big kiss: "What a service station *you* turned out to be!"

By the shoreline, to a pretty song; ah youth: "It's such a pleasant thing – just to be alive!" "You want to taste all of life – don't you?" "Yes – all! I want to hold out my hands and catch it – like the sunlight."

This late silent film with synchronized music score and sound effects made Joan Crawford a star at MGM. The film was a huge hit at the box office.

Crawford stars as wild Diana Medford, a rich rich who is a leader in her set of young wealthy country club types. She's a real life-of-the-party type but is actually "good." Her rival is Ann (Anita Page), a beautiful blonde who has been raised as a mantrap. She's a deceitful liar just like her mother (Kathlyn Williams). There's also Bea (Dorothy Sebastian) who's made a few "mistakes" but is a decent young woman.

Into this swirl of country club dances and rivalries comes a handsome young millionaire (Johnny Mack Brown) who's taken with Crawford's high spirits, but as soon as she learns how rich he is, Page moves in on him.

Brown seems helpless against Page's simpering helpless act, and with the help of her grasping mother, they corner Brown into marrying Page. Crawford is devastated. Meanwhile, Sebastian's new husband (Nils Asther) is having trouble accepting his wife's "past."

A year later, the marriage between Page and Brown in rocky, especially since she's now dallying with Freddie (Edward Nugent). They show up drunk at a party where Crawford is, and the sparks fly. Brown discovers exactly how he was tricked by Page and admits if was really Crawford he loved ... and still does.

Things come to a violent climax.

Crawford and Page are excellent. Crawford does a couple of wild dances and Page excels in a drunken hysterics bit. Brown is suitably handsome. The film is also famous for its spectacular Art Deco sets and snappy jazz baby costumes.

This film established Joan Crawford as a star at MGM where she joined Marion Davies, Norma Shearer, and Greta Garbo as a queen of the lot. It also positioned Anita Page, Johnny Mack Brown, and Dorothy Sebastian at MGM as it transitioned to talkies.

This is one of the great surviving flapper films from the jazz era.

Wealthy and flashy Diana falls hard for Ben Blaine--who unjustly interprets her vivacity as looseness and in turn falls hard for prim and proper Anne--who is in fact a vicious gold digger with a heart of stone. Will Ben ever see through Anne's facade and realize Diana's true worth? Directed by Harry Beaumont with sets by the legendary Cederick Gibbons, OUR DANCING DAUGHTERS was bright, sharp, pretty to look at, and just sexy enough to make the censors fume--the type of film that MGM seemed to produce by the bushel during the late silent era. The studio expected it to perform well, but there was no reason for anyone to think it would generate more than passing interest, much less a legendary star. But it did.

Born in 1904, Lucille Le Sueur endured a hardknocks childhood to become a popular chorus girl in New York night spots before signing with MGM in 1925--and renamed Joan Crawford she churned out some two dozen films in three years without setting the world on fire. Until, that is, MGM allowed her dance on table tops and despair of winning her true love in this slickly produced, well acted, but essentially formula melodrama. And even today it is still possible to see what all the fuss was about: not only was she bursting with youthful energy and appeal, it was the first film in which Joan Crawford really LOOKED like Joan Crawford, and although still limited her acting chops weren't half bad either.

The overall cast is particularly strong, with Anita Page turning in a memorable performance as the pretty but wicked Anne and Dorothy Sebastian as Bea, a good girl with a few missed steps in her past; male leads Johnny Mack Brown, Nils Aster, and Edward J. Nugent provide solid support as various love interests; and Kathlyn Williams proves memorable as Anne's manipulative mother. While OUR DANCING DAUGHTERS will never rival the truly great films of the late silent era, it is still a lot of fun, and those who want to see Crawford's first cinematic hurrah will not be disappointed.

GFT, Amazon Reviewer

If you have ever stumbled onto one of Joan Crawford's films from the 1950's such as Queen Bee or Sudden Fear, what you see is the caricature of Crawford that she herself seemed to endorse: tough, ballsy and no nonsense. She's inhumane, unreal and kind of scary. You have to wonder where this woman came from and why she is considered a Star. Check out "Our Dancing Daughters" to find out why. At the very least it showcases an appeal that Crawford had that was completely gone by 50s. In it she plays Diana Medford, a rich society girl who is also a great dancer. The plot is simply about a cat fight between Crawford and Anita Page over the rich Ben Blaine (Johnny Mack Brown). Page disparages Crawford to Ben and ends up married to him but Ben never stops loving Diana. Thanks to a melodramatic ending (complete with a drunken confrontation and a fall down a stairs), Diana and Ben end up together (or so it is inferred). So plot wise, there's not much to it and for a lot of people, the film won't hold much appeal outside of seeing what Crawford was like very early in her career. I'm interested by the films of stars that "made" them famous. Too often the films that stars are remembered for aren't really the ones that show their appeal. Take Clark Gable. He's mostly remembered for "Gone With the Wind" but is he really that good in it? I don't think so. He's much better in "Red Dust" and "It Happened One Night". Those are the films where is appeal is very clear. For a somewhat more contemporary view, take someone like Tom Hanks. What is he known for today? "Forrest Gump"? What made Hanks initially appealing to audiences were his comedies like "The Money Pit" or "Turner & Hooch"" and "Splash". Getting back to Crawford and "Our Dancing Daughters" it's this early appealing side of Crawford that is so interesting. She's very attractive here. Not beautiful but very pretty and that's an important distinction: Crawford connected with her female fans (and supposedly her fan mail greatly increased after this movie) because she was accessible, not an aloof, above it all beauty like Garbo. You genuinely feel for her as the movie progresses and then there's a protectiveness that develops in the viewer. At the end, when she "triumphs", you feel like the order of things has been restored. These feelings are due entirely to Crawford. What is fascinating is how completely opposite her later films are. Some of them are grotesques and others just feel clueless like Crawford was trying anything to bring back success. Crawford was good in "Mildred Pierce" but after that each of her films became more strained and some (like "Torch Song") were truly odd and campy. Crawford's legacy would have been completely different had she simply faded away like so many stars of the late 20s and 30s did. Perhaps most are forgotten (does anyone outside of film buffs really talk about Norma Shearer?) but is being remembered now as a grotesque, campy figure any better than being forgotten?