The Trial of Mary Dugan

Norma Shearer is a kept woman. Her lover dies with a knife driven into his heart, and she is quickly arrested for his murder. H. B. Warner is the prosecuting attorney. Lewis Stone her defense lawyer. As the prosecution goes on, Warner paints a picture of Miss Shearer that is very damaging; Stone deflects many of these points. Just before Olive Tell, the dead man's widow testifies, Raymond Hackett appears. As Miss Shearer's brother, he is permitted to sit at the defense table. Miss Tell's testimony is very damaging, and Stone refuses to cross-examine her. Hackett, as a California lawyer, argues with him, until Stone resigns. Can Hackett save his sister's life?

The chance of getting an accurate depiction of a trial is close to zero, but this does a pretty good job. The one exception is the transfer of attorneys. Stone cannot simply resign, he must ask to be relieved; Hackett, as an out-of-state lawyer has no standing in another. State's court. He must be approved pro hac vice, usually with a local lawyer to serve alongside. Otherwise, the handling of court procedure is pretty good, if a bit informal.

That said, the performances are terrific! A good deal of the credit must go to director Bayard Veiller, who wrote and directed the play version on Broadway. Although the camera is still, rapid cutting by editor Blanche Sewell keeps up the pace, and the shifting balance of evidence is exciting. Big emotions are on display, but although I might decry them as stagey in another movie, here they seem natural and justified. Neither did I expect the outcome.

This movie was redlined in many locations because of the detail of Miss Shearer being a kept woman. It also vanished, although it was remade twice: once by MGM in 1941, and another time by the BBC. Without mentioning the technical issues that afflict many a 1929 movie, including this one, it would be very good. Understanding those issues, it's excellent.

In The Trial of Mary Dugan, Norma Shearer introduces for the first time her voice to audiences who adored her in silent movies. It's a heavy drama about a wronged woman on trial for murdering her married lover, and while it's a prime part for any actress of the time period, it's not a very good movie. It's very obvious this is a movie made in the transition from silent films to talkies. Some actors flub their lines, the set is very simple, and the camera angles are unimaginative. Norma doesn't even speak for a good chunk of the movie, but instead gives exaggerated expressions in close ups. When she is given the opportunity to speak, she's pretty awful. She either screams, rushes her words, or covers her mouth in mock-horror. I think she needed a year or two to get used to the microphone.

This is also very obviously a pre-Code drama, with prostitution at the forefront of many scenes. There's an incredibly unrealistic interrogation with the district attorney, H.B. Warner, attacking Norma Shearer about her relationships with her sugar daddies. The line of questioning would have been stopped in real life, and objections of irrelevancy would have raised constantly, but it's all a dramatic show to make the audience feel for Norma-and also to shame women into not becoming mistresses. If you take money and an apartment in exchange for other favors, you might wind up on trial airing every single bit of dirty laundry from every single man you've ever seen! After 1934, the entire line of questioning wouldn't have been allowed, and neither would the words "naked" and "go to bed". However, in exchange for the racy dialogue and subject matter, the 1941 remake gives audiences a better story and better acting. I saw the remake first and found it very entertaining, with passionate performances by Robert Young and Laraine Day. I was excited to see Lewis Stone in Robert Young's role, but his part wasn't even present in the original. There are still two lawyers defending the accused, but the first is her hired attorney-portrayed by Lew-and the second is her brother. To see her defended by her boyfriend, you'll have to rent the remake-which I recommend you do anyway.

DLM Warning: If you suffer from vertigo or dizzy spells, like my mom does, this movie might not be your friend. When Norma enters the courtroom in the beginning, the camera puts on a kaleidoscope effect for about 30 seconds, and that will make you sick. In other words, "Don't Look, Mom!"

M-G-M's second "all talking picture" ("Broadway Melody" was number one) is set entirely in a court room, except for a brief prologue at the murder scene. In the rather clever hands of director/writer Bayard Veiller, this device (carried over from his stage play) concentrates our interest and attention, rather than dissipating it. Of course, the electricity is sparked not only in the attention-grabbing twists and turns of the brilliantly constructed plot itself but in the ruthless thrust and parry of witness examination, especially when these verbal shocks and barbs are delivered by such skillful players as H.B. Warner and Lewis Stone. The big surprise, however, is that boyish Raymond Hackett (who left movies altogether in 1931 to concentrate on stage work) and Norma Shearer (making her talkie debut) deliver such powerful performances. A little stagy, it's true, but nonetheless effective. A particularly well-chosen roster of support players also adds to the tension.

Production values are high, although some viewers might find the stop-and-start, state-of-the-art sound recording a little distracting.

This film is certainly worth seeking out for the fan of the early talkie. It was Norma Shearer's first talking picture, and she still has a thing or two to learn about acting in the age of sound film at this point, but she still pulls off an admirable performance. However, at first you wonder if she is ever going to speak at all.

The camera is still nailed down at this early point in talking film - early 1929. Thus the film consists of just a few static scenes, with about 90% of the film taking place in the courtroom at Mary's trial. Mary Dugan (Norma Shearer) has been found by the police at the side of her dead lover. He has a knife sticking out of his back, and she is covered in blood. The dead man is wealthy and married, and Mary is a "fallen woman". She is thus assumed guilty of the crime and put on trial for her life. Lewis Stone is her attorney, and H.B. Warner is the prosecuting attorney. Early in the film, Mary's brother (Raymond Hackett) bursts into the courtroom and objects to how Mary's attorney is conducting the defense and requests that the judge allow him to take over. He is, as luck would have it, an attorney himself. How the mystery unravels of who did kill Mary's lover is quite interesting, although there are a few glaring hints throughout the film. At one point the guilty party says something that practically paints a sign on himself/herself (I'm not telling you which!) that says "I did it!". Even if you figure out who did it, you'll want to watch to the end to figure out exactly why and how.

Getting back to Norma Shearer, her chance to speak extensively before the camera comes when she is put on the witness stand, never a particularly good idea if you are actually a defendant, since any attorney ( a good one) will tell you that the object of the criminal defense is to prevent the state from making their case, not to give them openings for making you look guilty. However, her testimony largely turns into a soliloquy that is fairly effective and shows the beginnings of what will be much better acting in such films as "The Divorcée" and "A Free Soul". She overacts some, and does come close to chewing scenery, but in the end resists the urge. Raymond Hackett, whose film acting career would last only a couple of years more, gives a fine performance as Mary's brother and second defense attorney.

What has always made me a fan of the early talkies is their experimental nature, the fact that everyone seemed to forget how to talk and behave naturally even though this is what people did whenever the cameras weren't running, and that everything becomes subservient to the tyranny of the microphone. This film is no exception. For example, there are a number of witnesses who seem to be given an opportunity to testify for no other reason than to launch a mini-vaudeville act without the pesky movement that was so troublesome to deal with in early talking film - Lilyan Tashman's turn on the stand being particularly amusing. When one witness says something unintentionally humorous one trial attendee bursts out laughing for a full five seconds before everyone else in the room joins in. One can only wonder what the purpose of this awkward silence was. And then there is the judge. He largely just sits there while the D.A and defense attorney stand next to each other smirking and making jabbing remarks like a couple of fans of rival football teams. Only when an attorney makes a formal objection does the judge reluctantly take charge.

Note that this film is largely precode, since although Mary has lived the life of a fallen woman, she is allowed a happy ending. After the Breen era of the motion picture code begins in 1934, if such a film as this were allowed to be made and exhibited in the first place, it would have to end with a meteor landing on Mary and thus show her paying for her sins, or some other such nonsense.

And now this American peasant must take her leave since all this talk of trials has made me hungry for a TV dinner and some Court TV.

Finally got to see this early MGM talkie.

After a ponderous start and despite the stable camera (we get long and medium shots and close-ups) and directed by the unknown Bayard Veiller (who also wrote the Broadway play), the story really takes off after about 15-20 minutes.

Norma Shearer in her starring talkie debut is good in the talkie parts but overacts badly in the reaction shots. But a fascinating pre-Code look at the trial of a "bad" girl. Once the trial gets going and the story gets more complicated it's quite fascinating. Lewis Stone and H.B. Warner are the lawyers, Raymond Hackett is the brother, Lilyan Tashman is a snooty showgirl, Olive Tell is Mrs. Rice, Myra Hampton (another showgirl) is hilarious--she can't say "thick," and Adrienne D'Ambricourt is the maid. They are all quite good.

Although stagy by modern standards and a little hammy, for a 1929 talkie it's quite engrossing. I notice that the actors have to place themselves in odd positions to fit into the camera shots. For example, during interrogation scenes, the opposing lawyer comes and stands behind the questioning lawyer. And as with most early talkies the editing is bad, with many shots held long after the dialog has stopped.

Another stagy tactic is that when the witnesses talk, they turn toward "the jury" which is the camera (and us).

A very impressive talkie debut for Norma Shearer.

Oh... Hackett and Hampton were married when they made this film. After their divorce in 1935, Hackett would marry silent-screen superstar Blanche Sweet. They remained married til Hackett's death in 1958.