no wedding bells
by Douglas Messerli
Wilfrid North (director) Bunny’s Dilemma / 1913
In her 1914 interview with John Bunny—only a
year after the 11-minute movie I am about to discuss—the famous Djuna Barnes
describes the actor as not at all being the humorous figure he is in the
movies:
“Having pieced together necessities of the
soul and the humor that gets past with the solemnity that holds the two down to
earth as ballast, and having attained with the piecing a weight nearing the 300
mark, John Bunny, moving picture actor and little friend to the thin, looks at
you out of prolonged almond eyes wherein is the shadow of the veil drawn aside,
and a great sadness that seldom reaches his public.”*
Bunny spends most the interview touting his
intelligence for having left the stage to appear in movies, and his
determination to make movies better. But despite his declaration of his love of
baseball, the sea, his wife, two boys, and friends, his greatest joy seems to
be the idea of being “set...adrift in a log.” In short there is something in
Bunny’s comic performances that is also sad, a kind of loneliness that accepts
the status quo with equilibrium the way Buster Keaton would later come be
described as a “comic of resistance” as opposed to those comics like Chaplin,
the Marx brothers, and others who were comics of “energy, enterprise, mischief,
and mayhem.”**
Even when Bunny acts to counter and protect himself from what he sees as
danger ahead, it backfires on his character, leaving him after with even less
that that with which he began. He is left without, lonely, sad, a bit like
being adrift in a log.
A
perfect example of this is the 1913 film Bunny’s Dilemma, directed by
Wilfrid North, who was evidently the go-to director for cross-dressing comedies
of the second decade of the 20th century.
In
this instance, Bunny was living apparently with a man described by the script
as “Cutey” (Wally Van), but who the Moving Picture World synopsis names as Jack
Holmes. Why the two men are living together is never established, but as in
many of Bunny’s films it takes only the slightest of circumstances to get Bunny
to dress up as a woman.
Since Bunny has managed to be a bachelor all of his life, his sees no
reason to change his ways, and to trick the insistent aunt, whom he has never
met, he confides with his roommate “Cutey,” the two of them cooking up a plan
where Jack will masquerade as Bunny, and Bunny will dress up as a female maid.
No
sooner has Bunny gotten into female dress than the aunt and Jean arrive, the
younger woman being so beautiful that he is tempted to immediately disclose his
real identity. But Jack, also quite smitten with the guest, immediately takes
over, demanding the maid to set out preparing tea and dinner, while he begins
to flirt with the young lady, Bunny stubbornly watching over them as he
performs his activities with regret.
By
this time Bunny has become so smitten with Jean, that he writes her a letter,
pushing it under her bedroom door. In the letter he sweetly asks her to meet
him in the arbor near the garden early the next morning.
She, believing it is the attractive “Cutie” Jack, quickly prepares for
the early morning tryst, but as she quietly passes Aunt Eliza’s door the old
woman hears her footsteps, and, rushing out of her room, confronts her cousin.
Seeing the letter in the girl’s hand, she grabs it from her, declaring that
Jean will not be able to keep that appointment, determining that she herself
will take her place.
Covering over her face entirely with a hat and veil, she arrives at the
arbor, where Bunny flirts with her, finally attempting the raise her veil for a
kiss, when he is startled to discover that it is not the beautiful Jean, but
his aunt.
Even more painful is Bunny’s discovery that Jean and Jack, in the
meantime, have crept to the spot out of curiosity, observing the entire farce.
Bunny’s crestfallen face breaks even the stern visage of Aunt Eliza who
opens her heart just enough to allow Jack to bear off Jean as the prize, she
willingly accepting his offer. Poor Bunny sits meditating on his sins of
deception, eventually deciding that it is all for the best. He will never
marry.
Bunny himself was
happily married, so he claimed; but his character, just as Barnes described him,
seems alone and endlessly sad.
*Djuna Barnes, “John Bunny” in Interviews (Los
Angeles: Sun & Moon Press), p. 120.
**See Adam Gopnik, “Silent Treatment: The Case
for Buster Keaton,” The New Yorker (January 31, 2022).
Los Angeles, February 2, 2022
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (February
2022).
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