Coquette

More than the silents that preceded it, this is a rare glimpse into a world that is almost impossible for our generation to imagine. The acting style seems bizarre by modern standards. The characters walk as if they were trying to dance, and they speak as if they would rather sing their lines. Okay, sound equipment may have been awful then - "talkies" were brand new in 1929 - but that fact does nothing to make it less pretentious when the characters stretch their mouths to yawn proportions to utter dated lines like, "darling, I love you more than life itself."

Then there's the plot, another feature of this film that is as quaint as the acting and the dialogue. "Norma," played legendary silent screen actress Mary Pickford at the end of her prolific career, becomes "compromised" by a night with a boyfriend, Michael. Michael vows to marry her but instead finds himself in an angry confrontation with Norma's father, the doctor.

Father takes a gun to avenge his violated daughter - who is played, remember, by a 37-year-old woman. And poor Norma, finding her lover on his deathbed, pours forth a mind-numbing, melodramatic declaration of her love that had to have been way over the top even in those days.

But the most amazing part is the end, where the doctor is on trial for murder. Norma takes the stand to accuse her lover of rape and thus save her father, which she does admirably and with all the flourishes and eye-batting appropriate for the era. Suddenly, the father's conscience is stirred and he rushes to the feet of his daughter - this in a court of law - and pleads with her to let him take the blame with honor. The doctor eyes the murder weapon, a revolver sitting on a table before the judge, and then stands before the court and demands that he pay his debt to the state. Imagine that!

Father then rushes to the arms of daughter and begs her to "hug daddy" as she used to. What follows was surely, even to audiences of the day, an excessively-long, gruesomely-sentimental embrace. To a modern viewer seeing it in the contemporary context, it would clearly suggest incest, though this was certainly not the meaning of the scene. That done, father grabs gun and commits suicide in the courtroom. To the film's credit, the event is conveyed well by the sound of a single gunshot - no blood.

Pickford may have been the darling of silent film, and she was undeniably a remarkable actress in that setting. But her talkie debut is flawed in every conceivable way, from the bogus southern accents of her and others' characters to the comical arm gestures she makes to emphasize her schmaltzy love-talk with Michael.

You have to cut this film some slack not only for the year it was made, but also because sound movies were then in their infancy. Still, the story line and script are painfully exaggerated and the acting horribly stilted.

But is it worth watching? I say yes. It's important cinema history. And it's fun.

"Coquette" is an overrated picture, to be sure, but it is nevertheless worth seeing for its place in Hollywood's early history. It was Mary Pickford's first talking picture and for which she won an Oscar (probably weren't many nominees, this being 1929). Let's just say that there have been many better acting performances since then.

Have you ever seen a movie set in the 19th century which contains a live stage play, for instance, "Showboat"? That is what "Coquette" resembles, with exaggerated, overdone performances and the story confined to just a couple of indoor sets - there is only one outdoor shot in the film. The overacting in "Coquette" is a sight to behold, led by Miss Pickford, who chews the scenery in a hammy, overwrought performance. Yes, she is attractive but looks older than her boyfriends - which she was. Her main squeeze is the old buckaroo, Johnny Mack Brown, who does the best he can. Best acting honors, such as they are, go to John St. Polis, who plays her father.

It is a story of honor and customs in the Old South in the early 20th century, and some elements of the plot are tough to swallow, especially in 2011. The story is simple enough to follow, but the consequences of situations which would be easily solvable today leave the viewer perplexed.

But as I said, it's a famous picture and it has historical significance, so watch it if you get a chance and see what you think.

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.

The earliest sound movies quickly became known as "talkies", as oppose to "soundies" as one might expect them to be called. It makes sense though, because these pictures tended to have a lot more talking in them than did the sound films of a few years later. The reason is most of them were culled from stage plays (where speech largely takes the place of action) because this was seen as the most appropriate material for the new technology. And back then, theatre was not the prestigious medium it is today. Just as there have been B-movies and dime novels, so too were there plenty of cheap and cheerful stage plays ripe for adaptation to the screen.

Coquette comes from a play by the rarely-remembered theatre legend George Abbott along with Ann Preston Bridgers, and is essentially a melodrama-by-numbers. All the familiar hackneyed elements are here – a flirtatious young woman, a disapproving father, a gun going off and so on. It is all a rather silly affair, putting some rather large strains on credibility in its final act. And in its translation to the screen it has retained the structure of a theatrical play. On the stage you can't cut back-and-forth from one place to another, so big chunks of plot will take place consecutively, often in the same room. And this looks odd in a movie.

Coquette is probably best remembered now as the movie for which (mostly) silent star Mary Pickford won her only Oscar for acting. The deservedness of this award has since been called into question. Her performance is an abundance of mannerisms, but while certainly overt it never quite goes over-the-top, which is a fair feat given the plot requires her to go through every conceivable emotional state. She is actually at her best when saying nothing, such as the odd little expression that crosses her face at the end of the court scene. The best turn however belongs to John St. Polis, who gives a nice solid performance. Theatrical, but solid. By contrast though, the unbearable woodenness of John Mack Brown is like an acting black hole, threatening to drag what little credibility the movie has left into oblivion, and would have succeeded if someone hadn't had the good sense to pop a cap in his ass halfway through. Ironically Brown was to have the most lucrative post-Coquette career of all the cast, albeit largely in B-Westerns.

The director may seem like a strange choice. Sam Taylor was first a gag man and then a director at Hal Roach's comedy studios, but lately he had got into drama. Staging in depth was always one of his fortes, and he makes some neat little compositions which really give definition to the limited number of sets. For example when Brown first comes on the scene, he has him in the background with Pickford on screen right and Matt Moore a little closer to the screen on the left, creating a zigzag pattern. He also makes some attempt to bring a bit of cinematic dynamism to what is essentially a filmed play, making sharp changes of angle at key moments such as St. Polis's walking in on Pickford and Brown, but by-and-large the fact that nearly everything takes place in one room – or rather a frontless set – is inescapable.

Perhaps we shouldn't be too hard on Coquette, as its flaws are really only the flaws of its era. And in all honesty, if you try not to take it too seriously it can be enjoyed on a certain level, especially since it runs for a mere 75 minutes. But then again, there were also plenty of pictures from this early talkie era – yes, even as early as 1929 – that managed to rise above their circumstances. And after a look at how much talent and imagination there really was in Hollywood at the time, it's not difficult to see how Coquette could have been so much more.

The Broadway play COQUETTE ran for a year in the late 20s, starring Helen Hayes. Mary Pickford hoped that this vehicle would be a solid entrance into the new sound medium as well as scuttle her "little Mary" image that had plagued her for the last decade.

At age 37, Pickford is too old to play Norma Besant, BUT she looks great so the age factor is not really a problem. The problem is the play. It's creaky and far-fetched and doesn't work as a late 20s film. The fault is not with Pickford, who turns in a terrific performance although in a few spots it all gets rather stagy.

Also very good is Johnny Mack Brown as Michael. He exhibits some real fireworks in the argument scene with Pickford's father (John St. Polis). But these 2 good performers can't save the film from the rotten acting of St. Polis (he plays a despicable character) and William Janney who plays brother Jimmy. Matt Moore plays a sad-sack suitor to no great effect, and Henry Kolker is over the top as the prosecuting lawyer.

The screenplay is probably too close to the stage play, and director Sam Taylor seems to have absolutely NO ear for dialog or eye for composition.

Despite the antiquated story about southern pride and the value of truth, Pickford and Brown are well worth watching. Louise Beavers is also good as the maid. The court room scenes are solid with Pickford giving a terrific performance as the irony of the murder become clear. Her final scene, walking from the court house and down the street is quite memorable in its beauty and simplicity.

Yes, Mary Pickford won an Oscar for this performance, but the award is likely for the 20 years of films and superstardom she brought to this talkie debut. She was the biggest star in films for many, many years and deserved the Oscar for this brave performance, even if the film itself is not terribly good.