heterosexual heathens
by Douglas Messerli
Sam Taylor (screenplay, based on a story by
Karl Vollmoller), D. W. Griffith (director) Lady of the Pavements / 1929
The real gem in this 1929 silent picture story
of revenge is Lupe Vélez who plays the sleazy cabaret singer, Nanon del Rayon,
of The Smoking Dog (I’m not making this up). Working for Papa Pierre (Henry
Armetta) Nanon holds the attention of her customers and D. W. Griffith’s camera
whether singing “You Tickle Me—I’ll Tickle You” or her chaste love song, which
Griffith later recorded and released as a disc to accompany the picture (and
which amazingly made it onto the pirated DVD from a televised broadcast I’d
purchased online).
Prussian attaché serving in Paris, Count Karl is about to marry Countess
Diane until he arrives at her mansion unexpectedly one evening only to discover
her having sex with the Emperor himself. The old-fashioned kind, Karl will not
excuse the behavior of his future wife, even if it’s the emperor who visits her
bed, suggesting he’d be better off married to a lady of street than to the lady
who moments before ruled his heart.
If
Nanon at first visually looks the part, the Chamberlain and dance teacher
M’sieu Dubrey (Franklin Pangborn) find it nearly impossible to teach the girl
anything beyond a clumsy curtsey. Although they’ve dressed her up in a lovely
gown for the ball, she keeps lifting up her skirt and petticoat as if she were
about to launch into a raunchy can-can or, more precisely, she were trying out
for the title role of Charles Walter’s The Unsinkable Molly Brown
(1964).
The more the Chamberlain and the prissy sissy Pangborn attempt to
instill a bit of self-control, the wilder Nanon gets until finally even the
arbiter of correct demeanor realizes he’s met his match. When the Chamberlain
leaves the room on an errand, the film’s queer finally decides to give it up
and join the heterosexual heathens, attempting to plant a smooch on his utterly
resistant hussy’s lips, resulting in a hurricane of fury as she knocks him the
ground, tops his frail frame and begins to beat him to a pulp until the
Chamberlain returns to break up the one-sided battle; and even then she’s ready
to take him down again until he has no choice but to slink out sight and out of
Griffith’s movie in order to allow the film’s more predictable goings on.
Obviously Nanon, especially after the Chamberlain’s visit, has her
doubts, despite the fact that she has also developed a crush on the Count. But
to save her lover the embarrassment and herself the pain when he discovers the
truth of her former life, she’s prepared to go on the run until Diane, ready to
go the whole hog with her evil plot, convinces her to follow her heart.
The two marry, Diane insisting on throwing the couple a grand dinner
party for which she secretly hires the rustic orchestra of The Smoking Dog,
forcing Nanon to either pretend not know her long lost friends or admit to her
native habitat.
She temporarily loses her stuck-up hubby, but he soon comes round to The
Smoking Dog to claim his wife, realizing that love is always more important
than a perfect pedigree. Only Pangborn, had Griffith let him hang around, might
have disapproved of their closing kiss.
Los Angeles, November 14, 2021
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (November
2021).
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