A Melodia do Amor

In the 1920s and early 30s, William Boyd was a busy actor...though not nearly as busy as he'd be starting in 1935 when he began making his Hopalong Cassidy films. In total he made 66 of them, though he made far more before this when instead of the hero, he played more a handsome leading man.

"Lady of the Pavements" was originally a silent movie with a few added bits of spoken dialog and some music. However, like so many of the movies where the sound was put on separate discs to be played on a record machine, most of the discs have been lost. You do, at least, get to hear the song near the end of the story. Overall, this isn't a big problem, as most sound on disc films ALSO had silent versions as well so they could release them in theaters which hadn't yet converted to sound. In one way, this is a good thing, as Boyd plays a German...and I have a hard time imagining him trying to effect a decent accent.

Regardless, perhaps one day the discs will be reunited with the film...as this HAS happened with many Vitaphone shorts. But as of 2024 this isn't the case and it's still a silent, though there IS a musical soundtrack which was probably added later...especially since it doesn't really seem to fit the movie much of the time.

The plot to this film is a bit difficult to believe. Karl is a German diplomat and he learns that his fiancee has been cheating on him. He confronts her and tells her he'd sooner marry a woman of the streets than her...and with that, she decides to exact her revenge for him saying this. She finds a street urchin (Lupe Valez) and dresses her up as a sophisticated lady and maneuvers to get Karl to meet and marry her. This does seem improbable and a big screwy...especially since the fiancee DID cheat on Karl. Despite this, does Karl stand a chance at having a happily ever after?

Artistically, "Lady of the Pavements" is a lovely film to watch. The cinematography is excellent and the film manages to make the most of the scenes between Boyd and Valez. As for the story, as I mentioned above, it's awfully farfetched...but is still enjoyable...though I must also admit that some of the love scenes are a bit sticky and occasionally Valez overacts a tad.

By the way, I have eaten at Au Chien Qui Fume ('The Smoking Dog Cafe') in Paris. It's a nice little restaurant and not at all a dump like it seems to be in the movie. Perhaps it's just a coincidence that the names are the same, though both are set in Paris. The restaurant, if you go, has a lot of neat artwork with smoking dogs and the food is pretty good.

In 1929 the great D.W. Griffith directed his final silent film, LADY OF THE PAVEMENTS. He re-shot a few scenes to add talking sequences and a few songs. The sound discs have mostly been lost. The film was also released in a full silent version, which exists.

This is an astonishing film, full of great cinematic scenes and two marvelous star performances. To think that Griffith was considered a has been when he directed this film! Count Arnim (William Boyd) is bored and is scheduled to marry the Countess Diane (Jetta Goudal)whom he does not love, but the marriage has been arranged. One night he visits her only to discover her lover sneaking out through a passageway. When he confronts her, she admits she is the mistress of the emperor. But he dismisses her, saying he'd rather marry a girls of the streets than this dishonest woman. Insulted, she hatches a plan to get even.

With her accomplice she finds a "girl of the streets" who can be trained and passed off as a lady to entice the Count. In a squalid cafe, they find Nanon (Lupe Velez). They offer to pay her for her time to play this "joke" on the Count. She accepts and is gussied up to be passed off as a Spanish girl of noble blood, just out of a convent.

Of course the Count instantly falls for Nanon and they plan to marry. At the wedding dinner, the cruel Diane announces a special treat for the guests' entertainment. She brings on the orchestra from the cafe and asks Nanon to sing one of her old songs. Humiliated, the girl tries to sing but breaks down and confesses all.

Diane, sure of her revenge boasts as the guests leave that the has given the count just what he asked for: a girl of the streets. But Nanon stands up to the Countess and admits she was a cafe singer but never a girl of the streets. She tells the story of deceit to the Count and then repeats the story to the guests still milling about. The Countess Diane is left alone in the room, a figure of scorn.

While William Boyd hasn't much to do here as the Count, the two leading ladies tear the place apart. Fiery Lupe Velez is superb as Nanon, taking full advantage of the comic scenes but then turning in a terrific dramatic performance in the finale. Jetta Goudal is gorgeous and lethal as Diane, using her haughty beauty to good effect.

Co-stars include Henry Armetta as Pierre, Franklin Pangborn as the dance master, Albert Conti as Finot, George Fawcett as the Baron, and William Bakewell as the pianist.

Karl Struss was the cinematographer and there are several great camera shots. In one, as William Boyd looks out a window as a departing coach, the camera follows his gaze out the window and down into the street and then reverses direction up and back through the window and past Boyd and across the room. It seems to be all one shot. In the finale when Lupe Velez is sure she has lost Boyd, she looks out and suddenly all the men in the room become William Boyd.

The Irving Berlin song "Where Is the Song of Songs for Me" is nicely sung by Velez and makes for a nice theme throughout the film.

For those who think Griffith could only do epics and rural melodrama, this is a must-see film.

LADY OF THE PAVEMENTS is not only DW Griffith's last silent film, it's among the last of his work in general. It is generally believed that Griffith lost his touch by the mid-1920s, but that's far from the case here. While the movie often seems more like a typical 1920s MGM product than the usual Griffith melodrama, it does have a few of his usual tropes: the innocent but spunky young woman, the (rather bland) male love interest, and a touch of social satire regarding the hypocrisy of the upper classes. Griffith's direction is superb, utilizing a series of creative tracking shots during one early sequence with William Boyd visiting Jetta Goudal's apartment. (Speaking of Goudal, she makes a great villain, absolutely hiss-worthy yet fabulous in her many elaborate gowns.)

The shining star of the effort is Lupe Velez, who plays an innocent young singer duped into a Pygmalion-style plot to pass her off as a noblewoman. This performance could have easily gone sour with a lesser performer: Velez is called upon to do the usual "hippity skippity" antics Griffith loved to see in his leading ladies, but she has such verve and charm that she manages to pull it off without becoming too irritating. It saddens me greatly that the discs for the sound sequences no longer exist-- I would have loved to hear her singing especially. As it is, we're lucky to have this little movie in the version we have at all. It's a charming fairy tale in the end and well worth the time of any silent film geek.