Rosita

"Set the table for three. Tonight we feast with death!"

It's a simple story and it moves a little slowly at times, but to see Mary Pickford playing a street musician and dancing a little jig, flirting with a traveling nobleman, and fending off the advances of the horny king, all under the direction of Ernst Lubitsch, hey I'm in. It's actually kind of hard to tell it's from Lubitsch, though the sets are gorgeous and the crowd scenes suitably lively, with the exception of this intertitle, which I chuckled over: "Good news! His Majesty graciously consents to your being shot." This is Pickford's show though, and she's as charming as ever.

Long relegated to incomplete 16mm reduction copies, "Rosita" was finally restored a couple years ago by the Museum of Modern Art after the repatriation from Russian archives of the only known surviving 35mm nitrate print. I'm elated to finally put a picture to the production history--and its somewhat notorious afterlife. To the bafflement of film historians, star Mary Pickford suppressed it--encouraging its demise into the obscurity it found itself after its initial release and up until its recent restoration--and in later years, such as for Kevin Brownlow's book "The Parade's Gone By...," stated her detest for the film. I took a class on Ernst Lubitsch in college, too, which only wet my appetite more for a film already on my wish list. While the classic studio system was emerging in Hollywood and elsewhere by 1923, it's important to remember what big deals director Lubitsch and actress Pickford were. He become unrivaled as having been the most esteemed director in two nations, Germany and, then, the United States, became the only director to head a major Hollywood studio, and at the time, he was fresh from a string of successful costume spectacles after having mastered classical continuity editing in "Madame Dubarry" (1919). He demanded complete control of his films and got it, including running his own production unit at Warner Bros. after making his first American film. "Rosita" is the exception to this authorial control.

That's because in emigrating to Tinseltown, Lubitsch ran into an even greater force of the movie world in "America's Sweetheart." Pickford was the author of her image. One of the four founding stars of United Artists, along with Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks and D.W. Griffith--the four biggest names in 1919 Hollywood, in other words--she exerted far more control over her films and the business behind them than have just about every other movie star ever. She was already running her own production company, and Lubitsch became her employee. Later, she was also a founder of the Academy, later best known for the awards they hand out annually (take a look at a photograph of the Academy's founders sometime to see the one woman in a room full of men). In recruiting the German-Jewish filmmaker, the 30-some-years-old hoped to break away from her usual roles of playing prepubescent girls and otherwise non-sexual child-women. It was a formula that was largely established and continually repeated since at least "The Poor Little Rich Girl" (1917).

Contrary to later claims by Pickford and repeated by some writers, "Rosita" was a financial success--probably making over a million dollars, a healthy box office back then. One study (published in "An Evening's Entertainment" by Richard Koszarski, who ironically later repeats the falsehood that it was a failure) estimates that it was tied for the fifth most popular film of 1923. Moreover, as film historians like Kristin Thompson ("Lubitsch, Acting and the Silent Romantic Comedy") have discovered, Lubitsch and Pickford appear to have had a good relationship in the 1920s. If not for the financial shortcomings of United Artists, they planned to work together again--signing Lubitsch to make films for the studio, including Pickford vehicles. Even when that fell through, she later called upon him to help with the editing of "Sparrows" (1926). Correspondence shows her at the time claiming, "I still believe he is the greatest director in the world," which is in stark contrast to a quotation from Brownlow in her later years stating their supposed mutual dislike of each other and remembering "I thought he was a very uninspired director." Although, elderly Pickford was quite right that Lubitsch was "a director of doors." Seriously, nobody was better at it. For Lubitsch's part, biographer Scott Eyman claims that despite squabbles over production control and insensitive mockery during filming by cast and crew of his thick accent and poor English, he never spoke ill of her, publicly at least. Regardless, neither star would work on a film with someone with such comparable clout in the industry as themselves again.

As for the film itself, I wish I could say it was an artistic triumph. To be sure, it has its moments, and while Pickford couldn't quite pull off the Pola Negri type here of a vixen Spanish street singer turned concubine to a womanizing king in a royal love triangle, or rather rectangle, it's hardly the embarrassment she later made it out to be. If one wants to see "The Girl with the Golden Curls" give a truly humiliating performance, check out her Oscar-winning (proving the industry has always been awful at rewarding themselves) role in "Coquette" (1929), a creaky and ludicrous early talkie. And, if you want to see her successfully escape typecasting, try "My Best Girl" (1927), her last and one of her best silent films.

Lubitsch surely deserves some blame here, too. There is a brilliantly comedic scene where the camera remains stationary as Pickford repeatedly passes by a fruit bowl before plucking from it, which recalls a similar scene in "Lady Windermere's Fan" (1925), and the picture is mostly technically competent. All-time-greats cinematographer Charles Rosher and art director William Cameron Menzies are credited on the production, so it of course looks good. There's a good double exposure for a shot as seen through a mirror, and a camera pan does well to indicate further spying in the same sequence through a window. And there's some genuine carnivalesque atmosphere with scenes full of countless costumed extras amidst large sets. But, despite Lubitsch's later insistence that American silent films were too wordy, there are a good many title cards here, too.

Worse, there's a huge missed opportunity in the wedding scene. Earlier in the picture, when Don Diego and Pickford's Rosita are being arrested, there's an insert close-up of them holding hands. Later and since estranged, their marriage is a convoluted arrangement made, ironically, by her rival suitor, the King, to make her a countess before executing Diego. Y'know, so that her servants will respect her. And, Diego goes along with it because he wants to be shot to death like nobleman supposedly are, I guess, and not hung like an animal.... Anyways, the two are to be married without seeing or knowing who they're marrying. Of course, we know that won't work, but Lubitsch and company entirely blunder the opportunity for the two to recognize each other by touch--recalling that prior arrest scene--when they again hold hands during the blindfolded wedding ceremony. Instead, Pickford breaks into histrionics and wild gesticulation as she uncovers their masks. That right there in a nutshell is why "City Lights" (1931) is a masterpiece, and this isn't (if you've seen that Chaplin film, you know what I mean, and if you haven't seen it, see it already--it's a masterpiece).

Speaking of Chaplin films, Lubitsch would kick this pseudo-historical, costume quasi-drama habit after seeing another 1923 release, "A Woman of Paris." As Thompson, among others, discussed in her essay and I cover more about in my review of Lubitsch's next film, "The Marriage Circle" (1924), he hit upon the sophisticated romantic comedies, including the comedies of remarriage, for which he'd become best known--films full of visual wit and nuanced acting and that were directly influenced by Chaplin's film. One may see some hints of what's to come here, including with the amusing scenes of infidelity early on as the King chases after countesses and, better yet, with the reactions to such by the Queen. Interestingly, the Queen is played by Irene Rich, who would play a more elaborate variation on the game of looks she participates in here and in a more central part in Lubitsch's first American masterpiece, "Lady Windermere's Fan." By then Lubitsch understood and had the control to rely on visual humor and not on intertitles--to the point that his Oscar Wilde adaptation includes not one of the playwright's famous epigrams. Rich managing to steal the show in her few minutes in "Rosita," hinting at the comedy-of-remarriage formula, may've been instructive, too, for Lubitsch to give her the most important part in his later film.

Nevertheless, this is a fine restoration, including tinting/toning and some hand-coloring for fire and fireworks. The score, too, was reconstructed from the original. It's a pleasure just to finally put a face to the production narrative oft repeated in silent film history writings.

"Rosita" (1923) stars Mary Pickford and is directed by Ernst Lubitsch; so...it should be a dynamite piece of film viewing. It's certainly not bad, but it's no masterpiece. Mary is a street singer during what appears to be some century in Seville hundreds of years ago. She is a sort-of François Villon poet/singer who chooses to snipe at the reigning king and his government and the taxes imposed which siphon the wherewithal out of the peasant class. By the upper classes Mary is constantly monikered 'harlot'. She is eventually dragged away by nasty government agent during Carnival festival, but a noble steps up, one who is recently returned from serving military service, and he stops the agent; then gets into a sword duel with him; kills him; then is put into prison where in the morning he will be hanged. Mary is put into the same prison. I'll let it hang there so you can find the film and watch to see what occurs!

Begins slowly. The story is a good one. What happens, though, is that this should have been a good drama. Even a few Pickford light moments would have worked to make this work if it had remained a good drama. Instead...it turns into a second rate meller/romance. Mary doesn't seem happy during this film. Something must have been up. We know historically that is true.

Well worth the watch. But this one does NOT have the Lubitsch touch. Instead, this one's 99 minutes is simply too long. I enjoyed the ending, but I knew it would happen the way it did. Probably would have been better with the Hitchcock touch; or simply letting Mary do her own version. This is on the new Blu-Ray release from Grapevine Video, a Kickstarter project with work done by Jack Hardy and a piano musical score by David Drazin. Score is good, though the Carnival scene music is a tad overwrought.

Also appearing with Pickford are Holbrook Blinn as the king; Irene Rich as his wife, the queen (and who is the person I think did the best job of characterization, and was a pleasure for the little time she appears); George Walsh as Don Diego, Mary's love interest; Mathilde Comont as Mary's mother; George Periolat as Mary's father; and many, many others. Supposedly Charles Farrell and Marion Nixon are here somewhere.

Mary Pickford was a stickler for preserving a large body of her films. She prized almost every movie she was in, and, unusual for an actress, she collected scores of prints of her work. One notable exception was September 1923's "Rosita." She demanded and was handed over almost every existing print distributed a few months after the movie was released. With the exception of one: a print 90 minutes long was found in 1960 in the Soviet Union, and given to New York's Museum of Modern Art, much to the consternation of an aging Pickford.

No explanation for Pickford's obsession in destroying the film was given. It wasn't because of any negative reviews. In fact, it was just the opposite. "Nothing more delightfully charming than Mary Pickford's new picture Rosita has been seen on the screen for some time," wrote the film critic for the New York Times.

"Rosita" was certainly a landmark motion picture, mainly because it was German director Ernst Lubitsch's first United States film after directing scores of German movies for nearly ten years. Pickford, just turning 30, had yearned to escape her popular child roles (played as an adult) and witnessed Lubitsch's sophistication on the screen as the panacea to that change. She contracted him to come to America and apply his craft with her as a lead. Once on shore, Lubitsch learned the actress wanted to make a film on the then popular genre of an elaborate costume drama. The director shot down one Pickford suggestion, while his desire to direct a version based on Faust was nixed by Pickford's mother because of a baby-killing scene. They settled on a 1872 opera about a libertine Spanish king who falls for Rosita (Pickford), a poor but very popular singer in Seville, Spain.

Pickford gave no reason for her unusual confiscation of "Rosita." One theory is she realized after seeing the finished print that she wasn't the heroine of the story; the Spanish queen is. Another is she wanted to forget what she later claimed was Lubitsch total authoritarian behavior. "I detested that picture," said the elderly actress years later to biographer Kevin Brownlow. "I disliked the director as much as he disliked me." But contemporary sources at the time of "Rosita's" production claim, beside a language barrier between the actress and the director, the two got along charmingly on the set. She wrote after the completion of "Rosita" that Lubitsch was " the best director in the world." They had planned to make more films together, but tight funds at Pickford's United Artists precluded such a working relationship.

"Rosita" turned out to be a tremendous hit, gaining the number six best box office position of 1923, and established Lubitsch's America's credentials. Warner Brothers signed him to a three-year, six picture lucrative deal, with total freedom to select his actors, crew and most importantly, final say in the finished product.

Pickford did, however, preserve one reel of "Rosita," a sequence that has gone down in classic film lore where she uses a fruit bowl as a prop to ward off the aggressive king as he tries to seduce her in his suite.

Pickford is impressive as the poor peasant entertainer with whom the King becomes ridiculously obsessed. Having seen some of Pickford's earlier 'little girl', romanticism movies this was a refreshing change and demonstrates how she was able to extend her range given the opportunity, utterly convincing as she is playing the fiesty young rebel as a woman with attitude. She reminded me of our contempory performers such as Madonna. Always amusing and beautifully composed by Lubitsch, whilst not a classic a highly enjoyable film.