Piccadilly

As a way of telling a story, Piccadilly is an eye-opener. E.A. Dupont's camera, lighting, and tracking shots seem brand new for their time. Every scene thoughtfully composed, using foreground furniture or beaded curtains or half-shadow light to discreetly dramatize the "naughtiness" of its theme. The film is silent (with a haunting, jazzy score) made in 1929, 2 years after the birth of sound, but the restoration of this film is beautifully and carefully rendered. The acting, by "silent" standards, is subtly displayed and truthfully acted. Anna Mae Wong is certainly sexy. There is a kissing scene which occurs underneath a newspaper that leaves much to the imagination.

For me it was a wonderful discovery (on TCM).

With a very interesting blend of elements including a convincing Jazz Age setting, effective expressionist-style photography, and a tight story filled with human passion, "Piccadilly" would make for interesting viewing in itself. But it is Anna May Wong's dazzling performance that stands out, even above everything else in the movie.

Set in the "Piccadilly" night club, the story ostensibly stars Jameson Thomas as the club owner, and Gilda Gray as one of the club's star dancers. But it's Wong's character who drives most of the story, and indeed, as soon as Wong comes on screen, it quickly becomes hard to pay much attention to the other characters, except insofar as they interact with her and her plans. The rest of the cast is solid, and there's nothing to criticize about their performances, but they cannot compete with Wong.

What makes Wong's performance so stunning is not only her obvious allure, but also the way in which she plays the role. She communicates a great deal about her character's thoughts and feelings by the most economical and well-chosen of gestures and movements, and by so doing she makes her dominance over the other characters quite convincing. Her little smirks can be devastating, and her subtle encouragements can be nearly overwhelming.

The story is told with good style, making very effective use of lighting and settings to complement the fluid cinematography. The opening sequence is well-conceived, both in pulling the viewer into the world of the characters, and in setting up the story. This part also includes a brief appearance by Charles Laughton in an amusing role.

From there, things build up steadily to a melodramatic, twist-filled final 10 minutes or so. The climactic series of events is made more effective by the careful build-up, and by the way that Wong has made Shosho such a vivid and believable character, one who is more than capable of creating strong feelings in the other characters. It all makes "Piccadilly" well worth seeing.

The nominal star of "Piccadilly" is Gilda Gray, but the real star of the film is Anna May Wong. She has the major part and shows her superior acting ability. In most of her film appearances she is cast as a villainess, a sinister two-dimensional oriental woman, but here she is given full rein and shows that she can carry a picture. She was given only one starring role with her name above the title, in "Daughter Of The Dragon" two years later. She, of course, played a two-dimensional oriental villainess.

She is beautiful as a British cabaret dancer who captivates the club's owner (Jameson Thomas). In one scene she lets her shoulder-length hair down, and she is gorgeous. He throws off his Caucasian girlfriend, which doesn't sit well with her. Strife and bitterness take hold as the story descends into melodrama. This is your best chance to see Anna May Wong at her best, and imagine what her career might have been.

PICCADILLY (1929), a fun-to-watch account of a sexual triangle which unfolds, to fatal effect, in a London nightclub - all pencil thin moustaches, louche owners and jazz dancing. As directed by Dupont it is a film which showcases its lurid (if ultimately unconvincing) storyline very well and entertainingly enough, even if one can imagine a Von Sternberg version using the same elements, which included orientalism in the form of Anna May Wong as an exotic temptress, much more effectively. Dupont's career went off the boil at the end of the silent era, previously however he had notable successes with this sort of thriller-esquire showbiz material as VARIETE. PICCADILLY also features a notable cameo from Charles Laughton as a drunk man with a dirty plate.

Tracking through a bustling nightclub kitchen, back into the scullery, amidst steaming washtubs, the camera finds a woman in torn stockings dancing a slow shimmy on a tabletop: a slow upward pan reveals the alluring Anna May Wong in a Pabstian moment of erotic revelation. In the course of this drama, director E.A. DuPont devises several more such clock-stopping moments as the star poses behind an etched glass screen or stretches her body in a geometrically beaded gown.

When Wong makes her debut before the nightclub audience-- sporting an ersatz Thai get-up and fluttering her fingers this way and that---it is clear that she really can't dance at all, ironically making DuPont's contribution seem even more impressive . When this performance causes an unlikely sensation, rival dancer Gilda Gray gets so jealous that she faints in a heap of feathers. [Famed as the actual creator of the shimmy, Gray demonstrates it here with lots of vigorous jiggling.]

Paralleling her rise to dance stardom, Wong's wardrobe gets increasingly elegant, while the conflicts mount: quarreling over nightclub impresario Jameson Thomas [a nicely subtle performance], Gray argues "He's too old for you!" and Wong ripostes "You're too old for him." Both have a point. Eventually, with the help of some Limehouse ruffians, a gun, and a dagger, it all ends in a courtoom.

Apart from a brief appearance by Charles Laughton as a fastidious diner, DuPont pays no attention to the café society patrons of the Piccadilly Club. His interest lies with the performers---including skinny Cyril Ritchard as a hoofer---and in his own adventurous style: the camera seldom stops moving, once even circling 360 degrees, yet the end impression is not of indulgent artiness. DuPont points the camera down through the whirring blades of overhead fans, or into distorted mirrors---virtuoso effects but somehow serving vitality, a sense of events happening in the moment.

The distributor, World Wide Pictures, uses the end titles to trumpet its memorable motto: "Photoplays made where the story's laid".