irish blarney goes dutch treat
by Douglas Messerli
Luther Reed (screenplay based on the play by
Rida Johnson Young), Sidney Olcott (director) Little Old New York / 1923
Since Patrick dies on the voyage to the States to claim his fortune,
O’Day’s stepson, Larry Delavan (Harrison Ford)—friend to American icons Robert
Fulton (Courtenay Foote), Washington Irving (Mahlon Hamilton), and Henry
Brevoort (George Barraud)—is now set to inherit the money he had previously
presumed would be left to him. But at the very last moment, Patrick shows up,
actually Patricia (Davies) looking as best she can like a handsome, if somewhat
effeminate young boy, fresh off the boat.
Pat is openly rude, however, to Delavan’s fiancé Ariana du Puyster (Gypsy O’Brien) who, having just spent her mandatory year abroad, has returned from English with all the airs that an American female rube deems proper, wearing her lorgnette as if it were a scissors. And he is dismissive of Delavan when he joins his fellow all-night celebrants for a spree of drinking and gambling. But basically, Pat has fallen in love with him, and he, demonstrating some confusion, even if the script tries to bury his gender double-vision, by his attraction to the boy. Neither the studios nor producer William Randolph Hearst, Davies’ real lover, would have approved of even a gentle kiss on the boy’s cheek, but there are moments when Ford seems almost ready lean into a smooch, particularly when Pat gets out his harp to sing a song that shows up Miss du Puyster’s vocal pretensions. Much like director Paul Czimmer’s painter in The Fiddler of Florence of 3 years later, Delavan muses about his young companion’s traits that remind him more of girl instead of a man, but which nonetheless most confusedly attracts him. Yentl is hovering in the distance of film history.
As
smart as Pat has been in his investment, Delavan is an idiot with regard to his
sudden determination to support the local drunken firefighter Bully Boy
Brewster (Harry Watson) in a boxing bout against “The Hoboken Terror” (Louis
Wolheim), putting up his only asset, his house, to match the bet.
In
terror of the outcome, Pat sneaks into the fire station to watch the
match—young boys definitely being banned from in the rabble of the crowd. “The
Hoboken” is so stupid that at first it appears Bully Boy might win simply by
dipping his head away from the slugs and coming back with a few punches. But “The
Hoboken” evidently invented the term “dirty fighting” and soon has turned Bully
Boy into punching bag, Pat having no choice but to ring the fire bell which
sends everyone in the place on the run.
Delavan,
now the rightful heir, realizing that his eyes had not been truly deceived and
his heart can admit its affection, decides to join her on the voyage. We can
only hope that once they are married that every so often Patricia transforms
herself now-and-then back into the practical fast-thinking Pat. Delavan
definitely needs a pretty boy to help keep him straight.
This silent film was remade in 1940 with Alice Faye as Pat O’Day, an
Irish bartender whose female identity is never in question, who supports her
beau played by Fred McMurray (an actor who surely never knew that identity
might ever be followed by a question mark) by investing in Robert Fulton’s
Clermont, the entire story being focused on Fulton and Faye’s attempt to get
the local’s support, a long ways from the Finian’s Rainbow fantasy, “Glocca
Morra” indeed.
Los Angeles, May 16, 2022
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May
2022).
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