A Romance of the Redwoods

A ROMANCE OF THE REDWOODS is an odd little film. This 1917 entry has Mary Pickford as an eastern girl who heads west to be with her uncle, her last surviving relative. In separate action we are introduced to Black Brown (Elliott Dexter) a desperado who comes upon the body of a dead man and changes clothes with him, assuming his identity. When a posse comes upon the dead man, they assume it's Black Brown.

In the mining town of Strawberry Flats, Dexter continues his charade as the dead man and everything goes well until Pickford arrives in town and takes up residence in his cabin. Of course he's still robbing stagecoaches. Pickford begins cleaning up the filthy cabin and comes upon a bandana with odd holes cut out of it. She holds it up to her faces and peers out through the holes.

She realizes Dexter is not Uncle John but he threatens to tell the world she's his gal if she breathes a word about his identity. Of course they fall in love.

The twist ending is quite good. Not a major vehicle for Mary Pickford, the film really stars Elliott Dexter, a favorite leading man of director Cecil B. DeMille. The location shooting is a plus. Look for Tully Marshall, Charles Ogle, Walter Long.

It sounds as though the production history of "A Romance of the Redwoods" is more interesting than the film itself, which is an unexceptional Western for the most part. Star Mary Pickford had only just wrapped production on what would turn out to be the most pivotal picture in her career, "The Poor Little Rich Girl" (1917), which helped cement her being type cast in childhood roles and introduced her most fruitful creative collaboration, with scenarist Francis Marion. Along with the subsequent WWI-era propaganda of "The Little American," "A Romance of the Redwoods" was one of two films she made with director Cecil B. DeMille. His career at this point was probably even more in flux, as he was experimenting with various genres at that point--before hitting on a formula of sex dramedies and, later, spectacles such as "The Ten Commandments" films (1923 and 1956). So, he made sensationalist psychological dramas, opera adaptations, historical epics and Westerns, among others. A director who would earn the reputation of being dictatorial, he had and would never again work with a star of Pickford's caliber. With her own tendency to demand creative input or control, this becomes a more compelling film to view when considering it as being pulled in sometimes divergent directions from two stars in formation. And that's not even to mention the role of frequent DeMille collaborator and another important female screenwriter, Jeanie Macpherson.

Similar to what the American film industry had recently done itself, the film begins with the uprooting from the East (had it been Fort Lee, New Jersey, the former capital of American filmdom, I suppose it would've been too on the nose), to move to California (and the Forest Moon of Endor). Whether the picture's nominal gold rush or the reality of the Edison Trust, the results are likewise gunplay and general lawlessness. Anyways, the story begins with a dual focus on Pickford's travels West and the Western trope of the "good bad man," who, in this case, steals her uncle's identity. William S. Hart played these bandit types who are reformed by a good, pointedly Christian and civilized woman better than anyone around this time in his own vehicles. The same plot emerges when the stagecoach robber and identity thief of this one meets his adopted niece, although it's complicated by the quasi-incestuous nature of this narrative and the queasiness one might feel towards the romantic storyline of Pickford's child-woman character, whom her fake uncle gifts a child's doll in the same scene he proclaims his love for her. The age gap between her character and another suitor seems even more stark.

Regardless, while DeMille attempts some grandiose views early on, including the stereotypical attack by Native Americans, a racial slur in the title cards included, a couple shots of the gigantic redwoods beside the diminutive Pickford, and there is some decent low-key lighting effects here and there, including from the home's fireplace (although not quite as impressive methinks as in DeMille's prior Western, "The Virginian" (1914), let alone the landmark "The Cheat" (1915)), the picture becomes increasingly one of intimate and extended takes of "America's Sweetheart." Playing the good bad man and lacking the subtle intricacies of Hart's expressive face, as well as lighter pull from always-second-fiddle co-stars in his vehicles, Elliott Dexter didn't really stand a chance at sustaining an honest dual focus in this one. He couldn't even always prevent his hair from obscuring a view of his face from the camera lens, let alone compete with the naturalistic acting of and brightness of the star of "the girl with the golden curls." She always seems to be involved in some bit of business and to be fully inhabiting her character--never merely just sitting or standing in stillness in some dated theatrical way of seeming to try to convey thought or internal conflict. She acts circles around everyone else in this one.

Inevitably, Dexter's character will convert to her rule. The rest of the townsmen, though, eventually break into their home and lock her in the barn as they attempt to play out the climax by themselves. Having none of that, Pickford employs some artifice to regain control of the scene. As another male character implores in his surrender, "Boys - I reckon when twenty men have been fooled by one small woman -- they'd better take their medicine!" And so did DeMille and the rest of his usual collaborators, and, not surprisingly, after two films with Pickford, he never worked with as big of a star again (albeit, there've never been many quite as big). This is Pickford's film.

(Note: Streamed from the 39th Pordenone Silent Film Festival, from a digitized 35mm, tinted/toned print from the George Eastman House. While scratchy, the picture quality was good.)

The western picture is almost as old as the cinema itself, and the genre and the medium to some extent developed side by side. Here, in 1917, as the feature film was becoming more the norm than a novelty, we see the western becoming more than just a genre in itself and becoming the backdrop for a romance.

Although parts of this story stretch credibility a little (this is DeMille, after all), the strength of the director and his long-time collaborator screenwriter Jeanie Macpherson in storytelling is evident. As was by now customary with his pictures, he economically introduces each character with a title giving their name followed by a brief shot which tells us everything we need to know. For DeMille this era was the peak of his visual storytelling abilities. One technique he uses is a quick shot of something happening out of a character's sight, yet which it is implied they can hear. For example, Elliot Dexter puts his ear to the ground, we cut to a close-up of horses' hooves, and we understand. It is not always so effective – for example the scene where Mary Pickford is startled by a wolf howling in the forest. From the way the sequence is edited it is not clear whether she is hearing the wolf or seeing it as well, even though we assume the former because it makes more sense.

One thing that sets Romance of the Redwoods apart from DeMille's previous effort, the spectacular Joan the Woman, is the frequent use of close-ups and multiple angles. This reflects changes going on in the cinematic form around the time, as more freedom was given to camera placement, and the idea of placing the audience inside the action gained currency. In the case of this picture, it of course enhances the ability to tell stories with images, but it also adds emotional and psychological weight to the scenes that need it. DeMille uses the soon-to-be standard trick of keeping the camera back for the purely expository stuff, then moving in close when a dialogue between two characters enters a deeper, more emotional level. It says a lot for his cinematic method that he manages to sustain a western with very little action, mostly through an air of menace, which inevitably gives way to romance.

This was Mary Pickford's first film with DeMille, and you can see she benefits from the time and space he allows his performers to act. Pickford was far more interesting before she began playing children, and here she is convincing as a youngster on the cusp of adulthood. Her most memorable moment in the film must surely be when she discovers Dexter's bandit mask. Horrified at first, she slowly lifts the rag to her own face – the scene is like a distant ancestor of Lorraine Bracco being given the gun to hide in Goodfellas. Elliot Dexter is adequate as the male lead, even if he does look more like a Dickensian villain than anything out of a western.

For all its merits, Romance of the Redwoods is a worthy yet somewhat bland entry in the DeMille canon. It is full of nice touches but lacks a real punch. What's more, the premise of the innocent easterner heading west was growing a little tired. It would be a few years yet before pioneer westerns The Covered Wagon and The Iron Horse would arrive to revitalise the genre.

I didn't know what to make of this Mary Pickford film. I've seen quite a few of Mary's films by now, and this one was just strange. There was no chemistry between Mary's character and the thief she falls in love with, no foundation for that to happen at all. The story was implausible; why would the girl stick around after she found out the uncle was dead? She should have turned right on home again. Instead she compromises her own honor by trying to save the villain, and then she tricks the law in order to escape with her "love". Poor script, to say the least. Not on par with Mary's other films.

Romance Of The Redwoods was the first of two films that Mary Pickford did for Cecil B. DeMille. Pickford came as part of the package when the Famous-Players Company merged with the Jesse L. Lasky Picture Corporation to form Famous-Players-Lasky which eventually was Paramount. Adolph Zukor asked DeMille to do a film with her and DeMille wanted a war film. Zukor insisted on a western first and we got Romance Of The Redwoods.

Both DeMille and Pickford came from the tradition of the Victorian Theater and in fact when DeMille was an actor he appeared with Pickford on stage in one production. Now she was a big star and rising and usually had her own way in terms of crew, script, and directing. That was not how DeMille worked and he got his way.

Romance Of The Redwoods sadly is terribly dated and could use some restoration. Mary plays a girl gone west to live with her uncle in the California gold fields. But her uncle was killed by Indians. Notorious road agent Elliott Dexter finds the uncle's body and swaps clothes and identity with him as he's looking to get out of the outlaw game as folks are getting tired of the lack of law and order and are ready to form a vigilante committee.

Mary, America's Sweetheart, faces a challenge in that she knows Dexter is not her uncle, but where else can a good girl go in those wild mining camps and keep her virtue. As for Dexter he's impressed with her virtue and the inevitable happens.

As another reviewer said, the ending is quite unbelievable but it was in keeping with the Pickford image and the mores of the times. Still it's sadly dated and probably won't find favor with current audiences.