Peacock Alley

Imagine you're a moviegoer in 1930. Imagine you're also a Mae Murray fan. Never the most lauded actress, critics sneer at her affected posing, her dance numbers, her elaborate (and sometimes scanty) outfits, the sheer campiness of her films. However, you adore her in films like THE MERRY WIDOW, grand productions where she danced a steamy waltz with heartthrob John Gilbert and lounged about in elaborate gowns. Perhaps you can remember back to her early film career, when she was making light Cinderella-style comedies like THE DELICIOUS LITTLE DEVIL with Rudy Valentino.

Now imagine Murray-- a star you associate with glamor and dance-- trapped in a static, very talk-heavy film in which everyone involved is more concerned with where to position their mouths so the microphone will catch each over-enunciated, badly written bit of dialogue. Murray-- in her forties-- is playing an ingenue half her age, and barely conjuring any chemistry with the two wet blankets we're supposed to believe are madly in love with her. Bored and remembering the fluid camera of those pre-sound days, you appreciate fleeting elements of Murray's performance that recall her dance background-- the way she gracefully spins into a lover's arms, the way she walks across a room like she owns the place. But none of this can save PEACOCK ALLEY and you struggle not to nod off.

It was a very known fact that if people wanted a career in Hollywood, they shouldn't butt heads with MGM's president Louis B. Mayer. Mae Murray proved to be a prime example of what could happen if a person did. The veteran actress listened to the advice of her new husband, David Mdivani. He had assumed the role as her personal manager in 1926, and advised her to walk out of her MGM contract to become independent. One of Hollywood's more popular silent movie actresses who played opposite of Rudolph Valentino, was directed by Cecil B. DeMille, and was known as "The Gardenia of the Screen," Murray soon found out one doesn't get Mayer's blood pressure up without some sort of repercussions. Her acting offers with other major film studios dried up. Murray soon discovered she was being 'graylisted," meaning there was no official announcement for the studios to avoid hiring her, but it was secretly known throughout Hollywood circles not to do so.

Murray's career was in limbo until she connected with her ex, Robert Leonard, owner of the small movie studio Tiffany Pictures. Murray had formed the company with her then husband Leonard in the early 1920s, but her divorce from him required her to divest from the studio. She saw a chance to rejuvenate her film career by starring in her first talkie, Tiffany Pictures' January 1930's "Peacock Alley."

Alas, there would be no Cinderella story here. The movie proved to be a dismal financial failure. Even though Tiffany Pictures constructed elaborate sets for Murray's movie on a low budget, "Peacock Alley" did more damage to the actress' future ambitions than she ever could ever imagine. "Peacock Alley" was a reprise of her successful 1922 silent of the same name. The plot involves her desire to marry wealthy Stoddard Clayton (George Barraud), even though she doesn't love him. Her reasoning: "I'm running away from the doubts and uncertainty and problems of a woman who isn't married." Staying overnight at Clayton's suite, she later finds another option in Jim Bradbury (Jason Robards, Sr.), a Texan from her hometown. They marry, but Jim soon finds out about that overnight stay in Clayton's suite. Fireworks erupt.

"Peacock Alley" was universally critically panned by almost every publication. Typical was Photoplay's scathing assessment of Murray, whose other nickname was "The Girl with the Bee-Stung Lips." Describing the movie as "a sorry affair," the critic said Murray's performance was "more affected and more bee-stung of mouth than ever. You'll laugh at the drama and weep over the comedy."

Murray was so upset at the reviews she turned her venom over "Peacock Alley's" failure on Tiffany Pictures. She sued the company for $1,750,000, claiming the studio technical crew's incompetence was on full display throughout the film. She assessed the high damages based on her career facing ruination. This was the first court case in cinema where an actress sued members of a film crew for incompetence. Murray's case ended up not in her favor. After the trial, the actress did appear in two small movie roles the following year, but her on-camera presence failed to generate any further interest.

The man who gave her such bad advice, husband Mdivani, spent most of Murray's money she had earned throughout the years. The two divorced in 1933. To make ends meet, she found a job performing in the 1940s at New York City's Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe nightclub, which was famous for hiring silent film actors for its nostalgic "Gay '90's" shows. The aging Murray, in her mid-50s by this time, was criticized for wearing outfits designed for much younger performers and for applying heavy make-up to hide her deep wrinkles. Murray ended up in poverty, dying in 1965 at the Motion Pictures retirement home in Woodland Hills at 79.

"Peacock Alley" proved to be one of character actor Jason Robards, Sr.'s larger roles. He had a long career in film and on stage, beginning in 1921 and lasting through the late 1950s with his television appearances on NBC's 'Cimarron City.' But his visibility lessened as talkies took hold. He is the father of Jason Robards, Jr., who witnessed his father's struggles as the silent film actor hustled for parts to pay his family's bills.

Be aware this is the second version (early talkie) of a silent picture, although the DVD cover is from the silent one. They both feature the same story played by the same actress (Mae Murray), but in quite different circumstances. The first was made in 1921 and released next year, directed by her then-husband Robert Z. Leonard and with a luxurious look. This silent version is supposedly lost. Some photographs exist showing the peacock gown featured in this DVD cover, which pertains NOT to this picture.

Miss Murray was an ex-Ziegfeld girl famous in the 1910s and 20s for the way she staged her dances and for her make-up (she was known as "the girl with the bee-stung lips", her star faded and is said to have been the inspiration for Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard). She partnered in Tiffany Productions, responsible for the two versions.

The story offered here has its main point of interest in Miss Murray's character having or having not been unfaithful to her brand-new husband; a secondary point for some may be to see Jason Robards Sr. Playing this role. There could be another one in a Spanish early Technicolor dancing sequence (Tiffanny also made Mamba trying to compete with newly assembled MGM), stills of which also exist, but this has been plainly DELETED, leaving a noticeable gap leading to an abrupt and rather unbelievable ending. Aside from these, I can see no other qualities. The story is outfashioned even for its time (but probably not for 1922) and it resents a total lack of rythm, "running" at a tedious pace. The image quality is poor. The sound equals it. Miss Murray looks unatractive and cheap. Even so, judge for yourself, as it may be the only chance to have an idea of this picture.

Peacock Alley is the name some hotels name their lounges or restaurants, like the Waldorf at N. Y. or the Willard Hotel in Washington. If you look at the pictures, it might have been this one the inspiration for the first sequences.

By the way, if anyone knows of an available copy of the 1921-2 silent version I'd be glad to know it (UCLA/LoC are said to own some fragments).

ATTENTION ! For those wanting to watch the missing TECHNICOLOR dance sequence, go to the link at the External Links section.

Silent film star Mae Murray's career crashed and burned in her first sound outing, Peacock Alley. The girl with the bee stung lips, more dependent on her feet than voice in her silent period shows why as she insipidly squeaks out a performance that put a fork in her career.

Cruising the night life scene at an upscale dinner club (Plaza Suite?) Claire Tree picks up wealthy bon vivant Clayton Stoddard for what he hopes will be a night of seduction that instead turns out to be an all night chit chat. When her hubby to be (Jason Robards Sr.) shows up the next day they immediately marry and end up at the same hotel. A thuggish house dick recognizes her and determines she's a bimbo on the make. It gets ugly and the newlyweds separate despite Stoddard's vain attempt to explain matters.

A little chunky, sporting a double chin, a bit long in the tooth (she made the silent a decade earlier) Murray simply looks and sounds silly in her lengthy tet a tet with Barraud delivering her lines at times like the interior monologues from Strange Interlude when she's supposed to be connecting with him. Her scenes with a heavily caffeinated Robards fare no better.

A color strip exists of Murray dancing and singing that is missing from the print I viewed but it is clear it was not about to save the picture or her career with the damage being displayed in monochrome already.

In addition to Murray's cringingly poor performance blame should also be affixed to the lack of direction by Marcel DeSano who looks like he's letting his entire cast figure it out for themselves. Along with primitive sound and the mediocre look of typically tarted up Tiffany art direction Peacock has nothing to preen about.

My research about TIFFANY STUDIOS has revealed that initially they were a production house for Mae Murray films directed by her husband Robert Z Leonard. In 1924 when the three separate Metro and Goldwyn and Mayer studios amalgamated to form MGM, many tech and crafts persons and actors where not included. These outcasts reformed at a grander more ambitious Tiffany and released their films thru the MGM distribution network. However MGM did not want Mae Murray (too much Norma Desmond for their liking) but did want her husband Robert Z.

As a result Mae and Z divorced and his career continued at MGM and she was cut loose. When Thalberg rival John Stahl took over Tiffany in 1925 his plan was to be an MGM equal and produce sophisticated glossy urban dramas cluttered with expensive props and costumes and out dazzle and out tech MGM. For a while his ambitions were successful and Tiffany began to produce some very good films like THE LOST ZEPPELIN and MAMBA. However they also gambled again with Mae Murray and this film, a remake of her 1922 opus was produced as a glamorous talkie, all set in a hotel full of snazzy dazzling props. Mae unfortunately must have dominated the whole proceedings as her first super style talkie and spends the entire film posing and looking towards Jupiter. At the 30 minute mark, dull proceedings liven up considerably in a very dramatic exchange about who spent the night where and some good direct dialog erupts. There is also a very well dressed deco apartment which now is almost the entire reason to see the film. A short satirical color sequence is inserted where Mae badly dances whilst believing she is funny. This is a laborious creaky talkie but intermittently fascinating for its ambitious glamor by a studio which folded in 1932. Robert Z had a successful career at MGM again and Mae faded into poverty and obscurity until SUNSET BOULEVARD was made based on Mae's enduring belief she that would make another comeback.