Coquete

I caught this film on TCM recently. This was actress Mary Pickford's first 'talkie.' At times, the acting is rather wordy and staged, but then it was a stage play before the film. But Pickford does shine in certain scenes, showing us why she was a superstar. In the film, Pickford plays Norma, a southern belle type whom we assume can have her pick of any beau in town. But she falls hard for handsome working class Michael (Johnny Mack Brown)someone her father considers beneath her. Things come to a boil when Norma spends the night with Michael at his cabin, and her father explodes with anger, killing Michael. Pickford is riveting in the death scene, and the courtroom scenes later where her father is on trial for killing Michael. This is not a perfect film by any means, and at times the actors' voices fades - not certain is this is the age of the film or the creaky new sound technology of the day. Either way, I had to crank up my television to hear what the actors were saying from time to time. Pickford's Oscar for this film was probably a way of honoring her for her many films and stardom rather than for her actual performance here. Still, the film is worth catching - despite its flaws.

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.

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)!

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?

It's rather unfortunate that this is the only film for which many current movie fans remember Mary Pickford, because of the neglect of silent films and because of the undue weight given to well-known but arbitrary motion picture awards. While she is often unfairly blamed for the mediocre quality of "Coquette", the fault really lies elsewhere. Without a thorough adaptation of the material to make it more suitable for the screen, hardly anyone could have performed well enough to make this much better.

The story did hold possibilities, but it's the kind of familiar, rather routine melodrama that needs interesting characters, unusual situations, or snappy dialogue to make it work. There is none of that here - only a talky and generally predictable script, which would work better as a stage play or even a radio play. Neither Pickford nor Johnny Mack Brown has much of a chance to give it life. They do their best, and they simply perform their roles as they were written. Nor is it one of the worst movies ever - it does contain some stretches of genuinely good acting, and the story is at least a little better than the warmed-over scenarios of so many recent movies.

Pickford deserves to be remembered for her many fine performances during the silent era. She could also have made top quality talking films if she had been given the chance, but she was never given roles that allowed her to use her greatest strengths. Further, in the early sound era, producers and directors were overly interested in dialogue-heavy pictures like this, which seemed impressive at the time only because talking pictures were still a novelty. Audiences of the day enjoyed them, but now they look as dated and dull as today's over-praised computer-imagery extravaganzas will look in fifty years or so. None of that is the fault of the actors and actresses of the era.