Maetime

In the heady,heedless glory days of cinema, Mae was the name on everyone's lips. Actresses named Mae (and,occasionally,May)came and went,ceaselessly,like the seasons, and for 3 decades they were marquis-dominant.This state of plenty assured variety of characterization.The Maes portrayed vamps,sweethearts,matrons and flappers, painted good-time girls and pale-faced saints.When the kliegs were dimmed for the day,they were limelight seeking gadflies and chaste stay-at-home darlings:there was a Mae for every taste. Headline-grabbers all,they were respected by critics and adored by fans.This legion of like-named stars were cinematic royalty,Goddesses of a charmed realm that, for one actress, held too little magic:she wished to be Queen Bee in a very real sense.That woman was the puzzling,ego-maniacal Mae Murray,the first up in this series.

Mae Murray

The Flapper-era had a louche boldness that seems invigoratingly modern,even through time's nasty 80-year interval.You get the feeling that you could sit down with these women and have a swig of whiskey,swap beauty tips and chat agreeably,even riotously,about art and intellect,men and mores.For all of their appeal,and their sassy cache as the first truly post-modern females,Flappers were very real women living in a time of immense upheaval.The new freedoms that they had were enjoyed on top of the ashes of a dead world;they were the result of the mass disaffection of a tired,war-raped generation,of men and women who had lost too much,far too soon,of a society desperate to put it all behind them as quickly as possible.
As is ever the case when society shifts into its next phase,the 1920's did not burst,whole and wholly uncomplaining,into the world:there were growing pains galore.Women were not all instantly liberated,nor did all wish to be. Men did not collectively cede to the new ways although many accepted the benefits inherent in such a shift.There were still Edwardian,and even Victorian,mores,habits and attitudes at play in ways both profound and cliched.
Mae Murray was an over-the-top, bejeweled, old-school vamp during the transitory period that saw the exotic Theda Bara type eclipsed by modern danger-girls in the mold of Bebe Daniels or Clara Bow.(Cinema Exotica became,in the '20's,the terrain of the boys,when the likes of Rudolph Valentino,Antonio Moreno and Ramon Novarro burned up the screen.)This, along with other acute factors,meant that her sojourn to the peak was short-lived.End-to-end,her career as a film actress lasted 15 years;her time as a star was,although forceful,compressed into the space of a few years in between.
She started her career as that most hoydenish of things, a Ziegfeld girl,which meant that,in later years, dances were woven into her films,whether or not they suited the narrative.The sets dripped with a decadent sumptuousness that was entirely unique to that period, and as far removed from the brightly elegant Art Deco drawing rooms that soon followed.Her characters lived in bizarre splendor,in an entirely fictional universe that was at odds with vibrant,striving reality;the difference is telling.
A few years later,after the Depression had spread her dark wings over the planet,Hollywood faced a similar dilemma:Was it better to mirror reality on celluloid or to hide it behind satin gowns and tuxedos,fast cars and grand pianos? The two paths had their vehement adherents;film from the 1930's is certainly the richer for giving expression to both views.Mae Murray's films had a gingerbread,European-Operetta quality to them that belied the changing nature of her time (indeed, she starred in the famous silent version of "The Merry Widow" opposite the deeply handsome John Gilbert, whose career went considerably beyond playing lover to Garbo).There was dancing, there was debauchery,there was a faux satiety, born of drinking life to the dregs though the cup was ever-flowing.
Always at the center of the reverie was dance-mad Mae herself.She was an attention junkie in a town that is not exactly known for its sit-by-the-fire types. "The Girl with the Bee-Stung Lips" was an unusual looking blonde,with dramatically curly hair;arresting instead of beautiful.Her largest feature,after her coif, was probably her ego.She hungered after the glittering lifestyle as portrayed in her films. To this end, she married Prince David Mdivani (her fourth husband)and left a lucrative career at MGM, convinced that she was worth more.She wasn't, and the sound revolution effectively ended her career.By this time, the landscape of cinema had changed dramatically;the death-knell for her type echoed for awhile, and then died along with her reputation, as she became mired in personal problems and the resultant bad choices.
She lived out the next 30-odd years in mostly horrific poverty and the even more unthinkable obscurity. That one of Silent Cinema's most original divas was arrested for vagrancy on a park bench is immensely sad. That she was unable to trace her path from one point to the other,completely unaware of how her life devolved from grandeur to disavowal, is sadder still.The title of her bravado-fueled autobiography says it all: "The Self-Enchanted".

Valentino

An Intro to Valentino

The appeal of a select few actors is set in granite. Their charm, talent, looks and personality put them so far beyond the vicissitudes of changing times and tastes as to be untouchable.Gable,Cooper, Brando, Newman, Tracy and Cagney are a few inhabitants of that celluloid Mt. Olympus.

For most stars,mass appeal is an ephemeral,touchy and short-lived phenomena, remaining alive in the general consciousness about as long as a single Presidential term. They are recalled fondly, if vaguely, by their aging contemporaries. To later generations, they are little more than an oddly familiar name, whose face and accomplishments remain hidden.

Rudolph Valentino's name, face and reputation are still easily called to mind, even to those who are not old movie buffs.He was the Silver Screen's original Latin Lover, opening the door for the dozens of imitators who,eager to cash in on his fame, quickly followed.His Italian good looks were considered swarthy and not quite safe:they drew hordes of female fans in to theatres.The name Valentino was--and is--a byword for suave,exotic male sexuality.(Unlike his brunette distaff counterparts,his appearance did not automatically relegate him to the role of villain.)

The scope and avidity of his fame knows no modern correlation. In fact, it is hard to fathom any 21st-century actor attracting such obsessive,naive devotion. Brad Pitt and George Clooney do not come within a light year of the kind of interest that Valentino, in his five years of fame, engendered.He would probably have sympathized with Sinatra or the Beatles during their first few years of acclaim;they are the only male stars to ever reach his level of hysteria-inducing stardom.

With the hollow mask of his image locked into place for nearly ninety years, and all of his original fans having long since followed their idol to the grave,it is only with supreme difficulty that we can break through to the kernel of his appeal.Too much time has passed, and taken with it all remaining vestiges of pop culture naivete, to see, exactly, what his contemporaries saw when they settled into the plush seats of their local movie house to gaze up at his image.

His mannerisms were a little to large for the magnifying quality of the movie camera. Coupled with the improper pace that silent films are usually,and imprecisely, run at on modern equipment, his movements and expressions can come across as jittery or over-wrought.Subtlety,which is found in abundance in the best silent films, was not his strength.What he possessed was an in-born charisma that the camera picked-up on and enhanced beautifully.It made him a commanding figure, and the center of every frame he inhabited, even when the plot was silly.Of course, no one went to a Valentino flick for intellectual stimulation.They flocked to his films because he was exotic eye-candy and,as such, was an ideal starting point for their escapist fantasies.Absurdities of plot or character were part of that fantasy world and,to a degree unthinkable today, not necessarily that far removed from the real world.Rudolph Valentino starred as 'The Sheik' in the same era that Lawrence of Arabia became a legend, setting off a rage for all things generically 'Arabic'. Movie romps were merely one result of what was then a real fascination.

When not kitted out in high-camp theatrical glory as a sheik or matador, he was a decidedly handsome man.This is readily apparent when you study his photographs.Something of the charm and mystery that his peers saw comes through when he is in repose.We are no longer quite as psychologically disposed to dish out the star-worship that he was forced to endure.From that angle, at least, there will never be another Valentino.

Forget Tax Day...Remember Greta Garbo, Instead

Too many words have been devoted and expended on the elusive Swedish Sphinx for the meagre words that I write to illuminate or deepen the discourse.Is there really anything new to be said, by anyone, that will enhance our understanding of the tight-lipped, late legend? Yet fans, writers, and critics by the millions remain entranced, enamored and intrigued by the star and her secretive ways, nearly seventy years after she last appeared on movie screens.

Acting-wise,she was competent and distinct, with a handful of memorable performances.She famously made the transition to sound late in the change-over, her cold mystery enhanced by her thick accent:she was no foreign-throated casualty.Yet her greatest roles were in silents,where her innate mystery was bound tightly to her muteness.Her strength as a performer shone through in her incandescent expressiveness.The ability to convey the universe with a single look--in the dart of an eye or twitch of the lips--was the true victim of the sound era.It took with it subtleties and nuances, and broad sweeps of emotion, that have not been witnessed since.

Garbo's appeal also resided in a shocking, pulsating sexiness that was entirely absent from her sound films. Watching her burn across the screen--especially in tandem with her brief, real-life lover John Gilbert--must come as an unexpected gift to anyone who has only seen her Depression-era historical films, mild and tamped down stuff in comparison.She was effective and restrained in the latter yet entirely without the emotive,pliant passion found in even her crudest silent.

The legend that is Garbo has been swallowed whole, without consideration of nuances, and spit back out in a few small yet readily identifiable pieces. Most of those remaining pieces are concerned with her private, post-film life rather than the work and craft that made us interested in her in the first place.Her personal choices,while certainly iconoclastic,remain separate from her real legacy:it would be an act of beauty and rebellion to remember her for her occasionally accomplished artistry and always magnificent presence.

To Tide You Over.....

Gloria Swanson-"Queen Kelly"

LA SWANSON

Gloria Swanson is the very definition of nonpareil. There has been no one, in the unbelievable 95-years since her film debut, to approach, even by a nautical mile, the shining facets of her peculiar gifts. She possessed an inherent singularity which, when coupled with a steely-nature, was hell-bent on carving not just a niche for herself but inventing a new species, of which she was to be the sole exemplar. And she was.

Her film career proper started in comedies. She was a teenager when she found herself doing the slapstick game in movies for Mack Sennett and, later, for Triangle Pictures. She had a transformation at the hands of Cecil B. DeMille. Now known for his extravagant epics, he also turned out sophisticated fare, which Gloria found herself the centerpiece of for several years. She became a true worldwide phenomena during that time.

She was tiny--not quite 5 feet tall--but broke the delicate-woman-as-china-doll mold by being a bona fide, elegant fashion plate. She was never coy or child-like; drollery and repartee were more her thing. This attitude extended to her attire: there was always something slightly odd--what we would call fashion-forward or edgy today--about her appearance. She was the most stylish star of silent cinema yet her look, like the lady herself, was beyond the reach of anyone who desired to copy her.

Her features were not pretty in any accepted sense: she was sharp-angled with large eyes. Yet her looks,falling short of the ideal, somehow transcended convention to become beautiful. Film loved her. She is always luminous on screen, and in photographs, at eighteen or eighty.

In many ways, her life, career and genuinely unconventional attitude seem, on the surface, to be of text-book quality. If that is so, it is only because she authored the text-book to which the public, and later stars, have spent their lives studying.

Married multiple (in her case, 6) times? Check.Married to a movie star AND minor royalty? Check. Acted the diva? Check. Earned huge salaries? Check. Was mobbed wherever she went? Check. Never appeared in public looking less than perfect (for SEVENTY YEARS of stardom)?Check. Lived through scandals and thrived? Check.

Yet, all it takes is a minor excursion into the interior to find that, not only was she a true pioneer in the cult of personality,but a deeply-dyed believer in holding true to your own character, however unconventional. She had three children--two to whom she gave birth--and flaunted them in a profession, and at a time, when to do so could be career suicide.She equally embraced her many grandchildren. She was a health food fanatic decades ahead of the curve.

She gamely joined the medium of television in its live heyday, even hosting her own show: other movie stars soon followed. She remained stylish until the end but became, from the 'fifties onward, more accessible to real women. She designed fashionable clothes for plus-sized women at a time when they had few options. She helped develop a natural cosmetics line fifty years before that became the rage. In 2009, while pure cosmetics are widely available, they have yet to become the norm.She was also an accomplished artist and able singer.

She was a star of the brightest light who never ceased working long hours. If she became famous and wealthy, it was largely through her own physical,mental and artistic toil. She never tired of putting in an extraordinary effort to achieve, and then maintain,her special status. During her many years of inactivity in film, she found other ways to feed her muse, and herself. When she got it all back again--thanks to a legendary performance in 'Sunset Boulevard' (1950) opposite William Holden--she held onto it permanently, with an attitude and ethic as keen as ever.

Gloria Swanson's life was dramatic, long and varied. She lived to tell the tale on herself in her autobiography "Swanson on Swanson". As with all such projects, it should be taken with a grain of salt but it still remains a must-read for any true fan of cinema when it was silent. Its brush-strokes are expertly applied, not a bristle is askew. It paints Ms. Swanson exactly as she wished to be remembered: hard-working, sincere, witty, independent, smart, pioneering, loving,imperfect,modern, strong-willed, talented, accomplished and entirely unique. How many of those qualities were held by the real woman can be attested by the accounts of her contemporaries but that is hardly the point.

She took the raw material of her being and shaped it into exactly the version of herself that she desired. As someone I know loves to say, "Your perception is your reality." Gloria Swanson's perception was her reality and, by her careful filtering, it has become ours as well:she remains modern, relevant, stylish and highly watchable.

Photo: Gloria Swanson in 'Don't Change Your Husband' (1919).

If I Were a Slapstick Comedienne....(Circa 1914)

I would:

1-Lift up my petticoats and get my feet dirty.

2-Chase (quite literally) after men and not be branded a loose woman ( also known as a hoyden).

3-Learn to drive a roadster, recklessly, at top speed.

4-Do my own daredevil stunts, such as:

5-Fly planes and dive off of teetering platforms.

6-Be tied to railroad tracks and get myself out of trouble, without relying on the "hero" to save the day and my skin.

7-Get paid for acting infinitely, energetically silly.

8-Always win the last laugh and the leading man, by film's end.

9-Not worry about acting like a "lady" at all times, on or off screen, as no one will expect me to have the morals or decorum of the Gish Sisters.

10-As a funny girl, I will be allowed to do things that heroines, vamps and real-life women cannot do without offending prevailing morals and dignity, such as: kiss, argue and kick pompous person in the derriere.

11-Make heaps of money and spend it all on things I did not know existed when I was poor. This is de rigeuer. I will buy gold lame slippers, ostrich feather hats and exotic frippery. I shall eat bon bons.

12-Have my entire family--parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncled and cousins--move out to sunny, Southern California and get them all put on the studio payroll.

13-Move behind the camera and direct and write films, for myself and others. I won't get credit for at least 75 years but it will be a lark.

14-Always look pretty and fashionable in all situations, no matter how absurd or impossible.

15-Work long days and party all night, every night, for at least 3 years. Everything in California is cheap and plentiful. Makeup can cover anything, don't you know.

16-Take "The Cure" once a year. See above.

17-Play practical jokes between takes. No one will be safe from my impish humor.

PHOTO: Mabel Normand

There Once Was a Girl

The talented, whimsically no-nonsense silent film comedienne Mabel Normand died 79 years ago yesterday. Her effervescence lit up early movie screens as the reigning funny lady of the flickers. She, along with the entire young industry, learned camera-acting the hard way, on her feet with the film rolling. At a time when making movies required a physical participation and recklessness almost entirely unthinkable for today's stars ( unless you are, perhaps, Daniel Craig ), even the most delicate flowers exerted, sweated and risked life and limb for the sake of economy, realism and speed.
Mabel learned to drive a car, not well but intoxicatingly fast, at a time when many men had never sat behind a wheel. She climbed up and on things, including the wing of that even newer mode of transportation, the aeroplane. She also went behind the camera, out of necessity and sheer why-the-hell-not-ness, before film-making was even film-making, before it became the near-exclusive purview of men. Even Chaplin, whose genius is more readily remembered than Mabel's, though none-the-greater, owed her more than his ego would ever admit. She helped teach him a thing or ten about being funny for the camera, of which he knew next to nothing before she waltzed his way and showed him how it was done.
She was model-pretty, a man-magnet who cared more for jewels and furs than settling down, much to the chagrin of Mack Sennett and countless other suitors and would-be Romeos. She caused some scandals the old-fashioned way ( by actually doing many of the crazy things that the papers and movie weeklies said she did) and others by knowing the wrong people ( she was involved, though not implicated, in the murder of faux-English Aristo director William Desmond Taylor). Her career never fully recovered from the mountain of bad press.By this time, her health and looks had been tragically undermined by increasing drug use and illness. A late marriage to star Lew Cody did nothing to stop her career from hemorrhaging.
She died of tuberculosis at only 37, many years a has-been.Be sure to check out the wonderful tribute on YouTube that is embedded to the right.Although they can only begin to hint at the talent, inventiveness, and kinetic beauty of Mabel, there are several other short clips available on that site. For any one that has ever seen the otherwise excellent film 'Chaplin' (1992, starring a sublime Robert Downey, Jr.), please try to erase Marisa Tomei's representation of Mabel Normand from your mind. However satisfactory you may find that performance, no stand-in could ever begin to capture the luminous energy, wit and appeal of the real woman. Thanks to YouTube, the lady can finally speak for herself to an even wider audience than she enjoyed in her own brilliant, unforgettable heyday.