Coquette

The chief flaw of Coquette is the generally poor quality of the sound which sometimes fades entirely, making it difficult to follow the plot which is propelled mostly by spoken exposition as opposed to purely cinematic techniques. The play on which it is based was a hit for Helen Hayes on Broadway but was sanitized and oversimplified for the screen (not at all unusual in those days). Dialogue and acting are florid and broad but nevertheless the story does manage to hold the attention. A doctor's daughter (Mary Pickford) outrages her tradition- bound father (John St. Polis) by falling in love with an uncultivated fellow from "the hills" (John Mack Brown). A fatal shooting results, but I won't give away the exact circumstances here.

Although she was in her mid-30's at the time of filming, Pickford is convincing, if somewhat mannered, as the maiden with one foot still in girlhood, displaying wide emotional range and a masterful command of her body, no surprise considering the physicality of her long silent film career. Her diminutive stature also works in her favor. When she sits in the maid's lap for consolation she really does look like the little girl she had played for so many years. Sadly, she is made to spend a great deal of time sobbing hysterically. (Vivien Leigh had to deal with the same requirement in Gone with the Wind ten years later.) Although not much of an actor, John Mack Brown has a kind of animal appeal, with a relatively deep, strong voice which registers clearly; one can understand why he became a popular player in talking films. Here, he seems to seesaw between menace and tenderness and you just have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise you cannot believe Pickford's feelings towards him. St. Polis has a stately presence and a sonorous, trained voice and seems the most comfortable of the supporting players in his role. The character of the black maid played by Louise Beavers departs from the norm; she moves torpidly and even talks back to the master's teenage son when he tries to rush her through her chores.

There is a lively scene at a country club featuring a jazz band and young revelers stomping to the hotsy-totsy musical numbers with wild abandon, suggesting that the later jitterbug and sixties dances did not come out of nowhere. The courtroom climax is hard to swallow – did judges in the South or anywhere else ever allow witnesses to sit in the laps of defendants for long personal dialogues while on the stand?

The first few Oscar ceremonies were, perhaps inevitably, characterized by films whose appeal has faded with the passage of time; this one – which gave "America's Sweetheart", Mary Pickford, her Best Actress nod – is certainly among the biggest culprits in this regard! Indeed, the film has virtually no reputation outside of this fact – and it is not even favourably discussed among its leading lady's most representative work! Incidentally, this marks my introduction proper to this most beloved of Silent stars – having previously only watched her in a couple of D.W. Griffith one-reelers from the early 1910s and her uncredited cameos in two of even more iconic husband Douglas Fairbanks's vehicles; for the record, I do own SPARROWS (1926; her best-known effort), THE TAMING OF THE SHREW (1929; the only official pairing of the famed Hollywood couple) and SECRETS (1933; Pickford's swan-song).

Back to COQUETTE: the plot is redolent of the hoariest stage melodramas – and the treatment is accordingly antediluvian. A flirtatious girl turns the heads of many local boys, but herself has her heart set on ne'er-do-well John Mack Brown (another popular name back then, but subsequently forgotten); however, their romance finds strong opposition from her doctor father – because the old man deems him below her station. Though Brown accepts to undergo a period of separation in which to prove his self-sufficiency and commitment, he turns up at a party three months in advance and even persuades Pickford to spend the night with him at a remote cabin. The next morning all hell breaks loose, as he presents himself before her father intent to ask for her hand, but the gruff patriarch will have none of it, goes after Brown with a gun and fatally shoots him! The lawyer father of one of the heroine's rejected beaux pleads with Pickford to save her dad from the gallows by making a "beast" of Brown; she refuses at first but relents when taking the stand at the subsequent trial. The doctor, understanding the nature of his daughter's sacrifice and mortified of his own actions, then takes the matter in hand and shoots himself on the spot with the very same gun that instigated the tragedy.

Despite having such luminaries as cinematographer Karl Struss and art director William Cameron Menzies among the credits, as I said, there is nothing remarkable about the film's style: actually, the whole Southern atmosphere drowns the interest all the more with the embarrassing repetition of such corny phrases as "honey precious" (the way in which Pickford addresses her father!), her pet phrase "adowable {sic}" and that of her younger brother, "jiminy"! With respect to the actress' personal contribution, I concede that the last act gives her ample opportunity to display a fair level of histrionics – but, having just watched fellow nominee Corinne Griffith in THE DIVINE LADY, I feel that the latter (mostly silent) performance, survives much better at this juncture…though I have yet to check out Ruth Chatterton in MADAME X, Jeanne Eagels in THE LETTER and Norma Shearer in THEIR OWN DESIRE (while the Betty Compson nod in THE BARKER, regrettably, seems lost to the ages)!

"Coquette" is an overrated picture, to be sure, but it is nevertheless worth seeing for its place in Hollywood's early history. It was Mary Pickford's first talking picture and for which she won an Oscar (probably weren't many nominees, this being 1929). Let's just say that there have been many better acting performances since then.

Have you ever seen a movie set in the 19th century which contains a live stage play, for instance, "Showboat"? That is what "Coquette" resembles, with exaggerated, overdone performances and the story confined to just a couple of indoor sets - there is only one outdoor shot in the film. The overacting in "Coquette" is a sight to behold, led by Miss Pickford, who chews the scenery in a hammy, overwrought performance. Yes, she is attractive but looks older than her boyfriends - which she was. Her main squeeze is the old buckaroo, Johnny Mack Brown, who does the best he can. Best acting honors, such as they are, go to John St. Polis, who plays her father.

It is a story of honor and customs in the Old South in the early 20th century, and some elements of the plot are tough to swallow, especially in 2011. The story is simple enough to follow, but the consequences of situations which would be easily solvable today leave the viewer perplexed.

But as I said, it's a famous picture and it has historical significance, so watch it if you get a chance and see what you think.

I think it is profoundly tragic how very destructive and negative a lot of the reviews have been (on this IMDb site) about Coquette......A truly wonderful vignette, and slice of life, of American life in the late 20s.

It is truly unfair to compare Coquette to the standards of 21st Century Cinema. There is a lot that can be said for enjoying a film simply from a historical perspective. There are so many, many historical nuggets, and vignettes, which can be extracted from this film. I am not speaking just from a cultural or societal level; I am also speaking

specifically from a cinematic level.

We do have to appreciate, as another reviewer pointed out, where Hollywood was coming from, when this film was produced. And we have to give credit to the first brave souls who endeavored to participate in an "early Talkie". These folks (especially the actors, many of whom spoke, for the very first time)were indeed pioneers!

We also have to acknowledge the fact that Mary Pickford won an academy award for her work here. As much as some of the other reviewers said that she was AWFUL, and should have stuck with "Silents", I think it speaks for itself that her peers gave this coveted award to her. This probably also suggests that many movie-goers, from the late 20s, probably loved her, and this picture (even if THEY could see, back then, that it was not perfect).

As difficult as it was for me, to put myself in the shoes of a 1929 audience, I think that I successfully managed to do this, while I watched it. I was born 30 years after this film came out, so it was a task to put myself into the head of a man who had been raised on a steady diet of Silent Movies.

It was so exciting, watching Mary speak, knowing that she had been a HUGE STAR, for YEARS, in Silents, and finally the world was confronted with the total package of Mary Pickford-----her movements, her persona and her voice. That, in itself, was probably enough to absolutely THRILL audiences, who had loved her before she spoke. It must have been truly fascinating to hear what their heroine's voice sounded like, after all those years.

A few general comments about the cast:

John St. Polis (who played her father):

What a terrific actor! What a great voice! He undoubtedly had been on stage and had learned his craft so very well. I loved him in the court room scene when, as the dignified, noble father, he took his lumps for his mistakes (and was a part of that huge, climactic surprise, that took place in that room). He died, 17 years later, at the age of 70.

William Janney (her brother, Jimmy):

Now I will give credit, where credit is due. He was terrible, absolutely terrible, for almost all of the movie. He overacted in the most cartoonish, nauseating manner. Perhaps some of his later work was better. He died 63 years later, at the age of 84.

Mary Pickford:

Though she began her performance, weak, and could be accused of overacting, she got better and better, as the film wore on. By the time we reached the part, where she embraced her lover, in the woods, and told him how much she missed him, and loved him, she was giving a command performance; no question about it! She was helped by some really great dialogue, from the writers. There were quite a few other scenes, where her performance was just sterling!! She died, in the late 70s, at the age of 87.

I could go on, and on, with the cast. I truly loved this film, for what it was worth. I thought the story, and the twist ending was incredibly and wonderfully masterful! I agree with another reviewer who said that the ending was just lovely, and beautiful (it shows Mary's character walking down the town square, with round-shaped light bulbs, from the buildings and stores, slowly lighting up, and glowing, one by one, by one). The picture then fades to its conclusion, with soothing, peaceful music, accompanying it.

More than the silents that preceded it, this is a rare glimpse into a world that is almost impossible for our generation to imagine. The acting style seems bizarre by modern standards. The characters walk as if they were trying to dance, and they speak as if they would rather sing their lines. Okay, sound equipment may have been awful then - "talkies" were brand new in 1929 - but that fact does nothing to make it less pretentious when the characters stretch their mouths to yawn proportions to utter dated lines like, "darling, I love you more than life itself."

Then there's the plot, another feature of this film that is as quaint as the acting and the dialogue. "Norma," played legendary silent screen actress Mary Pickford at the end of her prolific career, becomes "compromised" by a night with a boyfriend, Michael. Michael vows to marry her but instead finds himself in an angry confrontation with Norma's father, the doctor.

Father takes a gun to avenge his violated daughter - who is played, remember, by a 37-year-old woman. And poor Norma, finding her lover on his deathbed, pours forth a mind-numbing, melodramatic declaration of her love that had to have been way over the top even in those days.

But the most amazing part is the end, where the doctor is on trial for murder. Norma takes the stand to accuse her lover of rape and thus save her father, which she does admirably and with all the flourishes and eye-batting appropriate for the era. Suddenly, the father's conscience is stirred and he rushes to the feet of his daughter - this in a court of law - and pleads with her to let him take the blame with honor. The doctor eyes the murder weapon, a revolver sitting on a table before the judge, and then stands before the court and demands that he pay his debt to the state. Imagine that!

Father then rushes to the arms of daughter and begs her to "hug daddy" as she used to. What follows was surely, even to audiences of the day, an excessively-long, gruesomely-sentimental embrace. To a modern viewer seeing it in the contemporary context, it would clearly suggest incest, though this was certainly not the meaning of the scene. That done, father grabs gun and commits suicide in the courtroom. To the film's credit, the event is conveyed well by the sound of a single gunshot - no blood.

Pickford may have been the darling of silent film, and she was undeniably a remarkable actress in that setting. But her talkie debut is flawed in every conceivable way, from the bogus southern accents of her and others' characters to the comical arm gestures she makes to emphasize her schmaltzy love-talk with Michael.

You have to cut this film some slack not only for the year it was made, but also because sound movies were then in their infancy. Still, the story line and script are painfully exaggerated and the acting horribly stilted.

But is it worth watching? I say yes. It's important cinema history. And it's fun.