Madame X

I have only seen three Ruth Chatterton films: DODSWORTH, FEMALE and MADAM X. I had never heard of Ruth Chatterton before I saw DODSWORTH and had no expectations regarding her as an actress. After seeing DODSWORTH, Ruth Chatterton's elegant persona entered my life forever. FEMALE, seen a couple of years later, was pure delight. What a find! A younger Ruth Chatterton, equally glamorous and equally brilliant, this time delivering a light, witty, winning performance. When I got to MADAM X, I was already a great fan of this divine actress. How can one describe the effect of her acting on one's feelings? I confess I was spellbound from the start. Chatterton's seamless technique renders her emotional outbursts painful to watch, yet we cannot move or breathe and just stand in awe, witnessing an exposure of emotion that is so raw and so true. I have read reviews that criticize Ruth Chatterton for the very qualities that I find attractive and unique in her acting. That only shows that taste is indeed a very subjective thing. MADAM X is an early talkie, static, old-fashioned, a shameless melodrama. I loved it!

Seeing this 1929 version of Madame X was quite a revelation, the only other version I had seen was the Americanized Ross Hunter soap opera production that starred Lana Turner in 1965. This film illustrates the problems of early sound production and how the players and directors had trouble adapting to the new sound medium.

Ruth Chatterton was nominated for her stage like overwrought performance as the degraded Madame X formerly Jacqueline Floriot. I'm glad that before seeing Chatterton I had seen Mary Pickford in the Oscar winning film for Best Actress, Coquette. Pickford's performance is no more overwrought than Chatterton's. The Academy voters I'm sure chose from a whole lot of similar product.

Lionel Barrymore was up for Best Director in the only other Oscar category Madame X was entered in. Barrymore directed a few silents, but after talkies came in he soon found himself in front of the camera. His direction is for a stage play, but again I'm sure no better or worse than his competition.

The play is of French origin and debuted on Broadway in 1910 with a run of 156 performances. The lead was Dorothy Donnelly whose reputation today comes from being the book and lyric writer for Sigmund Romberg for Student Prince, Blossom Time, and My Maryland. The author Alexandre Breson took his plot idea from Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Chatterton marries a cold hard self righteous Lewis Stone who when she gets no love at home, strays and seeks it elsewhere. Stone acts like Anna Karenina's husband and tosses her in the streets. And like Karenin, Stone tells his son, his mother is dead.

Fast forward about 25 years and Chatterton is now a poor man's version of Sadie Thompson. She hooks up with a South Seas low life in Ulrich Haupt who guesses her true identity and sees the blackmail possibilities in it. But when the idea is broached to Chatterton, she balks and Haupt pays the price.

This one as did the modern version had the Victorian ladies weeping every Wednesday matinée. Chatterton, Stone, Raymond Hackett as their grown son, and Haupt deliver their performances in true 19th century style.

The film is a curiosity and of course doesn't hold up well for today's audience. But in viewing don't compare Madame X with more modern work. It won't stand comparison that way.

I really liked this old antique! Even though the heavy theatrics of Ruth Chatterton, Lewis Stone, and Raymond Hackett showed through, it was interesting in getting people's emotions involved circa 1929. Remember this was the early talkie period and the actors were still projecting their emotions, feelings, excitement, etc from the more familiar silent period....talkies were the new medium but feelings, emotions came out from the silent mode. I thought the spoken dialog to be excellent even though stagy. The whole production, photography, lighting, camera work was also outstanding. Overall it was a very good melodramatic, emotional, and provoked much sympathy and feelings. I'm for one enjoy the early talkie period with all its antique, splendid grandeur. Lets dust off more of these films for our future movie and theater historic buffs!!

More of a curio, this was reportedly the first MGM film to have a microphone follow the actors (on a fishing pole) at the suggestion of director Lionel Barrymore. Maybe that's why he got an Oscar nomination. Surely not for directing the photographer or the actors. The direction seemed so devoid of creativity it became obtrusive: a static camera that refused to follow the actors. If an actor moved, it jumped to a two-shot. Ruth Chatterton, however, is excellent as the long-suffering mother who sacrifices herself to prevent harm to the reputation of her son, who defends her in a murder case without knowing she is his mother! And Lewis Stone, who never gives a bad performance, is also excellent as the man she abandoned. It's worth a look for the acting.

It's interesting that the rebellion against Victorian mores lasted until well into the 20th century. This story of the endurance of Mother Love and the cruel implacability of Victorian morality is much contrived ado about nothing.

Like too many early talkies it is extraordinarily dull: there is no background music, little cutting and the camera work is static. Self-indulgent, stagy scenes are allowed to run on for too long. The gloomy sets, dark painted flats such as one must have seen on the Victorian stage and as can be seen in early silent films, are only dimly illuminated. The gloss that MGM became known for is not in evidence here.

The only point of interest in this film is that it is a record of the talent and style of Ruth Chatterton, one of the foremost stage stars of the '20s, and a star of early talkie films. Unfortunately, though a definite professionalism and artistry are evident, they also expose her as a shallow and posturing actress. With her slack body, puffy face and large, bleary eyes, she exudes masochism and self-pity from her very first scene, and this sense of weary defeat is sounded again and again without variety. More of a problem is her voice: her plummy and very deliberate diction (perhaps a by-product of early sound recording) gives lie to what is supposed to be a display of deep feeling. Her performance is nothing but empty technique, all of which imitates and indicates intense feeling without actually showing any. Where is the energy and life of real emotion? It isn't here.

In fact, polished, lifeless performances like this suggest why Bette Davis's work in OF HUMAN BONDAGE was like a gust of cold, clear air in the movies: In that film, Davis is full of the grit, spite and energy of real life. When her Mildred gets angry, there is a real sense of danger and excitement in it, an almost out-of-control sexual edge. The tension, intensity and unexpectedness in Davis's best work is exactly what is lacking in Chatterton's playing at emotion. This film is strictly for students of early sound films, or devotees of outmoded styles in stage and screen acting.