Friday, February 23, 2024

Wilfrid North | Hearts and the Highway / 1915 [Lost film]

the son who saved her father

by Douglas Messerli

 

Jasper Ewing Brady (screenplay, based on his novel), Wilfrid North (director) Hearts and the Highway / 1915 | lost film

 

Wilfrid North’s lost film of 1915, Hearts and the Highway was an historical drama produced by the Vitagraph Company in 5 reels.


      Against his will, the Earl of Clanranald (Charles Kent) has been called to a meeting of conspirators against King James II of England (Donald Hall), and is arrested as being a traitor and is condemned to death by James. The warrant, being dispatched to Edinburgh, is carried by Sir Harry Richmond (Darwin Karr), one of the King’s most trusted bodyguards.

        Distressed by her father’s mistaken arrest and condemnation, his daughter Lady Katherine (Lillian Walker) feels that she has no choice but to dress up the male attire of a highwayman in order to hold up the King’s messenger, relieving him of his message to execute her father.

       In the process, she is wounded in her shoulder by a sword, but nonetheless succeeds in securing the warrant and burning it.

       Upon hearing her story, Sir Harry promises he will do everything in his power to gain the release of Lady Katherine’s father.

        This is one of the many historical tales filmed by Vitagraph along with works in several other genres as they paved the way and defined the film industry for rest of the century.

         The noted actor/director Ned Finley, who later committed suicide when his career began to fail, played a character in this film named General Feversham.

          Clearly, the major interest in this film for LGBTQ individuals exists in the fact that it represents yet another of the several cross-dressing tales for both males and females of the early silent movies. And the film obviously bears some relationship with John G. Blystone’s 1925 work, Dick Turpin, also about highwaymen and their adventures which also contains incidents of female cross-dressing.

 

Los Angeles, January 25, 2022

Reprinted in World Cinema Review (January 2022).

Larry Semon | The Wizard of Oz / 1925

the princess vamp from kansas usa

by Douglas Messerli

 

Larry Semon and L. Frank Baum, Jr. (screenplay, based on Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz), Larry Semon (director) The Wizard of Oz / 1925

 

At least by this 1925 film, Baum and Semon has restored Dorothy (Dorothy Dwan) to her original Kansas location, living with Aunt Em (Mary Carr), Uncle Henry (Frank Alexander), and the farmhands we all know from the 1939 version. However, her Aunt and Uncle do not quite have the same open family relationship with her as they do in Fleming’s film, and the farmhands, particularly the two played by Oliver N. Hardy and Larry Semon are not simply friends—as are Hunk, Zeke, and Hickory—of a prepubescent girl, but are actually competitively engaged in trying to woo the young woman just about to turn 18 as the story opens. The third farmhand, Snowball, played by black actor Spencer Bell (who, to give Semon some credit, worked with him on several movies), obviously does not attempt to court Dorothy given US racist attitudes of the day, and his very existence alas occasions several other racist jokes and tropes. Instead of riding with the whites in the hunt in which they are caught up in the funnel of the cyclone, Snowball is jolted by electric lightning bolts directed to his rectum up to Oz.


      Moreover, Uncle Henry is not at all the dear ineffective farmer that Charley Grapewin portrayed, but an overweight surly hard-working hog-slopping bull of a man who actively shows his dislike of his “niece,” whom we soon discover is not truly family but a foundling left on their doorstep eighteen years earlier. Along with the baby, a letter was placed inside the basket to be opened up only on the girl’s 18th birthday, eventually revealing that she is actually Princess Dorothea, heir to the throne of Emerald City in Oz.  This was the same vampish version of Dorothy with whom director Richard Thorpe began his short tenure as a director for the 1939 version.

       Here too we witness the tornado which, in this case not only transports Dorothy to Oz, but her uncle, and three farmhands, one of whom (the Oliver Hardy character) has already betrayed her by the time they arrive, and for the rest film is represented as a villain. Instead of new characters discovered in a world that clearly is no longer Kansas, the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion are simply costumed personas the three farmhands adopt in order to evade the evil dictator of Oz, Prime Minister Kruel (Josef Swickard) and his associates, Lady Vishuss (Virginia Pearson) and Ambassador Wikked (Otto Lederer). Caught by the soldiers devoted to this evil trio, the Scarecrow (Semon) and Snowball (dressed occasionally as the Lion) are sent to the dungeon, while Hardy’s character is made “The Knight of the Garter” and the Uncle is awarded the title of “the Prince of Whales.”

 


       However, even before the tornado brings Dorothy and her troupe to them, the citizens of Oz are “aroused,” as the intertitles describe them, by the fact that the Princess is missing, and Prince Kynd (Bryant Washburn) and the crowd demand that she take the throne. Interestingly, and completely unpredictably, the Wizard is called upon to distract the citizens, and does so by presenting what might almost be described as a vaudeville act. Placing an empty basket in front of

them, he waves a wand and out comes a marvelous female impersonator (played by the noted male impersonator of the day, almost as well known as Julian Etheridge, Frederick Kovert (credited here as Frederic Ko Vert) who, dressed in feathers and whose head is topped with a gigantic display of open peacock tails performs his famous Peacock Dance (which apparently was last seen in the now lost film directed by J. Gordon Edwards, The Queen of Sheba in 1921). So we now know at least that the Emerald City, in nothing else, can be said to attract some of the very best of gay performers. Ko Vert evidently also designed the movie’s costumes.

 

       With the sudden visitation of their Princess, Prince Kynd insists that she take on her formal role; but without removing Kruel, Vishuss, and Wikked the naive Kansas girl has difficulties ruling the kingdom, Kruel attempting to a find a way to marry her so that he might remain in power.

        This time ‘round there is no road trip for the central characters, and indeed little action as Semon turns almost all of the rest of the film to a series of vaudeville comic sketches, mostly involving the farmhands engaged in a long comic scene of hiding under wooden boxes in a kind

of exaggerated and jumboized shell game, and an equally long sequence that might have come right out of the later Abbott and Costello films where Semon and Snowball are locked up in a cage with real lions. Some of these skits involve what today we might describe as scenes out of reality TV show, particularly as Semon climbs a pair of towering parapets, swinging via rope to the other just as a cannon ball hits and destroys the one upon which he has just stood. He escapes the second parapet via a small rope ladder attached to a passing airplane piloted evidently by Snowball. The rope snaps at the very moment the Scarecrow is about to step into the plane, the film quickly slipping back into the frame of the story tale told by an old dollmaker to his granddaughter. We never actually need witness the sad ending, or even the happier one when Kruel is arrested and Prince Kynd and Princess Dorothea are about to be married.

 


       Obviously there will be no visits back to Kansas for this Dorothy, who has found the end of her utterly heterosexual rainbow. Maybe the Wizard, from time to time, can book some interesting LGBTQ entertainers like Ko Vert, but otherwise life ever after in this Oz looks to be utterly boring.

 

Los Angeles, June 18, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (June 2022).

J. Farrell MacDonald | His Majesty, the Scarecrow of Oz (aka The New Wizard of Oz) / 1914

preferring oz

by Douglas Messerli

 

L. Frank Baum and Louis F. Gottschalk (screenplay), J. Farrell MacDonald (director) His Majesty, the Scarecrow of Oz (aka The New Wizard of Oz) / 1914

 

Anyone who has seen only the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz might not even recognize most of the characters of Baum’s 1914 cinematic rendition; indeed some of the figures presented here had not even been properly introduced within the covers of his serial publication of books.



    There is no “Oz” per se, just the court and castle of King Krewl (Raymond Russell) which is often described by commentators as being Oz, but which is not necessarily how it’s described in

the intertitles. Krewl’s lovely daughter Princess Gloria (Vivian Reed) is of marrying age, and her father is determined that she shall wed the court courtier Googly-Goo (Arthur Smollet) who we fully observe only late in the film.

     A sensible girl, she has her eye on the Gardener’s son, Pon (Todd Wright), a cute enough chap but not at all the kind of man her father imagines for a son-in-law. Krewl, catching them mid-kiss, scares the young man away; but Pon soon returns via a gardener’s ladder to reassure Gloria that he will love her for eternity.

     This time Krewl scares him off with two palace guards. And in order to make certain that Gloria will not continue her foolish infatuation with Pon, he pays a visit with his daughter to the local Witch, representing no particular direction, Old Mombi (Mai Wells), who has just captured a young lost girl from Kansas wandering around the forest, Dorothy Gale (Violet MacMillan), the first of the characters who today’s movie-goers might recognize.

      But this is not at all Garland’s Dorothy, since she has no dog, no particular destination in which to travel, and certainly has not discovered anything like the Yellow Brick Road which she might follow. As Mombi becomes distracted with the visit of the King and his daughter, Dorothy wanders out of her hut, meets Pon and mostly listens in on the evil doings of the King and Mombi through a back window.    

 

    What we discover is that Mombi, summoning up three of her sisters in witchery, intends to freeze Gloria’s heart so that she can love no one and therefore me mindlessly married off to Googly-Goo or whoever else Krewl has in mind. They succeed nicely, demonstrating to the audience through a kind out-of-body depiction how the normal heart, with just a little bit of ointment rubbed across the breast, becomes covered over with frost. And before you know it, Gloria has been transformed into a being so without will and thought that you might imagine they’d given her a lobotomy instead of a heart transplant. For most of the rest of the movie she simply wanders, following along with Pon and Dorothy. Once Mombi realizes her slave is gone, she attempts to chase her down through the vast woods of Oz, adding to the ever-increasing number of individuals on their way to nowhere.

       As film blogger J. B. Kaufman and several others have noted, it is almost as if Baum and the music composer Gotschalk were making the story up as they go along. As Kaufman writes: “Baum clearly felt bound to no particular scenario in constructing his films. Instead he unleashed his imagination, indulging in a kind of freewheeling whimsy as he concocted new adventures in the land of Oz.”

       They first meet a young boy (performed as a trouser role by Mildred Harris), Button-Bright who has absolutely no purpose in the film and basically admits it upon first meeting Dorothy and Pon (“I’m lost. I don’t know where I came from. And I don’t care.”). He follows along, simply adding to their growing posse.

      As the two plot out their future plans, they encounter the Scarecrow (Frank Moore), who we’ve previously seen created and, through a dance of the fairies and an Indian Princess in a “Spirit of the Corn” ceremony, was turned one autumn night into a living being. Helping him down from his pole they hardly even get the time to ask him if he’d like to join them. Mombi has caught up and, still weak in the legs and unable to run as fast as the others, the Scarecrow is attacked by the Witch, who pummels him with her broomstick and pulls most of the straw from his innards. Pon, Dorothy, and Button-Bright return to restuff their friend as they make their way now, so they have decided, to Krewl’s castle in order to usurp his power, declare the Scarecrow King, and help Gloria unfreeze her heart, an act which Pon has been trying to perform all along.

      Soon after, they discover along their path the Tin Woodman (Pierre Couderc) outside his Tin Castle. Dorothy takes out the oil can, and he fast becomes another friend. As they all rush into to his castle, evidently to rest up for the night, Mombi overtakes them once again, this time threatening the Tin Woodman who, finally irritated with her machinations, takes up his axe and chops of her head without even a pause of consternation.

 

      In probably the only true camera trick of the film, the headless Witch, now left alone, briefly reaches out with her hand trying to find her missing head and, when she discovers it, plants it back upon her neck. This time in her rage she changes Pon into a Kangaroo (the several animal figures of this work, including the mule, the kangaroo, and later the lion being all performed by Fred Woodward).

      By the next morning the odd mix of friends, Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Dorothy, and Button-Bright, along with Gloria and the Kangaroo now wandering behind them, set out on their further adventures, this time like Jim and Huckleberry Finn in a raft with Scarecrow performing as the polesman. Alas, his pole gets caught in the bottom of the stream and he with it as he briefly slips underwater to experience a world of puppet fish and even a mermaid before he finally crawls back up the pole and is saved by a giant bird who grabs him up in his beak and drops off nearby where the others come back to shore. I might add, since we are talking about the film’s sexual significance, that by this time nearly all the male figures of the film, Pon, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodman, so we are told, have fallen in love with Princess Gloria even without a heart thump back in their direction.










      The next day on the raft results in further adventures as they meet up with a wall of water that forces them toward the sky and then back down into the normal waterbed with the help of a camera tilted to one side and then the other.

       At one point they encounter the one and only Wizard (J. Charles Haydon), not at court, but as a traveling salesman with a red wagon pulled by a sawhorse. To rid them of the Witch, the Wizard asks them each to climb into the narrow wagon, while Moobi attempts to follow, the others escaping out a bottom chute. Having entrapped her within, the Wizard takes out a huge can marked “Preserved Sandwitches,” pushing Moobi in the can and quickly covering it as he paints out the “sand” and the final “s” to describe the newly preserved product. Shrinking it down to normal size, he puts the bottle in the pocket of his vest.

 

      The Lion (Woodward again) makes a brief appearance, but seems comfortable at home in the friendly forest, and not at all cowardly as he complains of being in the 1939 version. When he meets up with the gang, very late it the film, he lumbers along with the rest of the posse, but as the group attack Krewel’s castle, discovers that he cannot climb up the wall as the others did just before. Whether he’s afraid of heights or simply displaying a large beast’s limitations is not made clear. But in any event, he misses out on the later palace battles and festivities.

        Dorothy and her gang easily overtake Krewl and Goggly-Goo, who for the first time we actually witness in action, perceiving him perhaps as a foppish sissy-boy—the only outward gay character in the film—although after seeing Krewel duel beside him, we might recognize that the King seems equally effeminate—which perhaps explains his determination to keep him near through his daughter’s loveless marriage.

 

      No matter, the Scarecrow, who has borne the slings and arrows all the soldier’s bows without bodily harm, is declared King, and the court celebrates when he finally finds a way to settle down upon the throne, having never been a very steady being on his feet. The Wizard shows up for the coronation ceremony, unleashing the Witch if she promises to unfreeze Gloria’s heart. She agrees to do so, and the newly awakened, kisses the Kangaroo, turning back into Pon. Everything seems to have turned out just the way it was supposed to, with Dorothy having no intentions of returning back to Kansas since it’s quite obvious she prefers Oz.

 

Los Angeles, June 18, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (June 2022).

      

Douglas Messerli | Early Wizards

early wizards

by Douglas Messerli

 

I love The Wizard of Oz and every gay-boy-born-before-1960’s favorite musical diva Judy Garland who sings all about the LGBQ+ Rainbow long before it was ever imagined, as well as that “sissy” of a lion (Bert Lahr), so you might certainly describe me as “A Friend of Dorothy’s.”




      I also recognize that all those who join Dorothy Gale along her Yellow Brick Road trip to the Land of Oz are fully outsiders, in danger from all sorts of authority figures—although in this film, except for the Munchkin town council, authority is primarily matriarchal (including Auntie Em and the homegrown broomstick rider Elvira Gulch) coming from outsiders of another sort, witches good and bad. And even the great Wizard of OZ, a presumably patriarchal figure of heterosexual normality, is finally recognized to be fraud who goes floating off into the greatly inflated nowhere, while Dorothy gets a ride home just by clicking her lovely ruby slippers, which I’ve worshiped at the shrine in which they are now held many a time since they happen to be located in the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences Museum in Los Angeles across the street from where I live.

      Yet for all that, I—who have blithely argued for many a work of cinema that no one previously imagined as being queer—have some great difficulty in perceiving the 1939 masterpiece and all of its previous manifestations—which include The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1910); Dorothy and the Scarecrow in Oz (1910) now lost; Land of Oz (1910) also lost; The Patchwork Girl of Oz (1914); His Majesty, the Scarecrow of Oz (1914, also titled The New Wizard of Oz); The Magic Cloak of Oz (1917), The Wizard of Oz (1925), and The Wizard of Oz, an animated version from 1933—as  true queer works of cinema, in the sense of sharing the sexual interests of the LGBTQ community. I’ll certainly go with the queer, which is why I have permitted this discussion in these pages, but I have qualms about arguing these remarkable fantasies’ place in the homosexual / transexual / transgender spectrum. I’ll save my discussion of the most significant of these films, the Norman Taurog, Richard Thorpe, George Cukor, and Victor Fleming-directed The Wizard of Oz for my 1930s volume. 

       But in these pages I will discuss the “actual” rather paltry LGBTQ-like figures in two versions of this work, the first of which appears regularly on gay lists, His Majesty, the Scarecrow of Oz, while the other far more queer-involved work, Larry Semon’s 1925 version, The Wizard of Oz has never been mentioned, to my knowledge, as being of LGBTQ interest

 

Los Angeles, June 18, 2022

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (June 2022).

Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle | Miss Fatty's Seaside Lovers / 1915

the beached wail

by Douglas Messerli

 

Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle (director) Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers / 1915

 

I have come to realize, particularly when speaking of early 20th century LGBTQ films, that it is important to distinguish between characters appearing in “drag” and those dressed as women or men portraying people of those genders in their roles. The distinction is important because the first assumes its audience knows the figure is pretending to be someone of another gender while the other portrays the actor, even if recognizable, as attempting to convince us that they are of that gender. Today we might express the difference as creating a situation that is close to “camp” humor in the first instance. The reason that Stan Laurel is so funny in That’s My Wife (1929) and Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis* are absolutely hilarious in Some Like It Hot (1959) is because they quite obviously are not women—even if all the other characters seem to be oblivious of that fact— but are simply “pretending” to be. We wink back at their wink despite the blindness of those they are attempting to fool.



     In the early Old Maid films and other one-reelers starring female impersonator Gilbert Saroni, the women he portrayed may look funny, but might be mistaken for ugly women nonetheless, and the humor arises from the appearance and behavior of the female character not from our knowledge that this is a male performing her. In the works featuring Edith Storey, Marion Davies, and Louis Brooks as boys or men, their outward appearances are quite convincing, Davies and Brooks presenting themselves as rather strikingly good looking young men, their intention being illusion not audience recognition of their transformation into another gender. Indeed, although I have included their works in this volume, one might well ask whether these roles have anything to do with LGBTQ sexual behavior. Is a straight man or woman acting as a gay man or lesbian, or the opposite, a lesbian or gay man performing a heterosexual character really any different? Yet in each case the situation calls up a questioning of gender of sexual difference, which is why I’ve determined to include them. 

      Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle’s performance in Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers of 1915 is queerly somewhere in between. In this silent work Arbuckle plays the daughter of a rich “mothball” magnate, Mr. Finnegan (Walter C. Reed) who along with Fatty’s mother arrives at a seaside hotel to enjoy the pleasures of the ocean and beach.



      It is not that Arbuckle cannot possibly convince us of being a female—his face is actually rather attractive in makeup surrounded by a curly wig—but strikes us, nonetheless, as a hilarious simply because of her/his weight. Much like Saroni it is this woman’s appearance that occasions the audience’s laughter, not the fact that we see the male actor as preposterous in the role. Someone who had never before seen or heard of the hefty male comedian might see Miss Fatty as simply a buxom, grossly overweight maiden.    

      Even attempting to remove herself from the carriage which has transported her to the seaside hotel is a near impossible task as she pulls and pushes in both directions in an attempt to extract herself from the vehicle’s narrow confines.  She finally comes out backwards with a big, dusty flop onto the street, as the so-called “mashers” rush to upright her, she, in response, kicking them with front and rather delicate back-kicks for their efforts, perceiving them evidently as being after only her father’s money in their attempts to court her.

      Later in her room, the three suitors again attempt to once more please her, one playing the piano while the other two dance with her in a manner that reminds one of “ring-around-the rosy” until her kicking, hitting, and spinning them out of control ends with the two landing up in a pile of the floor, at which point her father throws them out, following it soon after with the defenestration of the piano player.

      Indeed, much of the humor of this short arises not as much from Miss Fatty’s appearance as it does from the fact that such an enormous log of a being is so amazingly agile, even acrobatic. Mack Sennet recounts his first meeting with Arbuckle remarking that he “skipped up the stairs as lightly as Fred Astaire” and “without warning went into a feather light step, clapped his hands and did a backward somersault as graceful as a girl tumbler.”

      Arbuckle’s absolutely elegant back kicks, swift turns, and slaps of her three suitors is at the heart of the comic pleasures of this otherwise not so very funny skit. This work provides the perfect example of what is described as “slapstick” comedy.

       It helps that the three “mashers” are played by the great Harold Lloyd, Sennett Studio regular Edgar Kennedy—remembered by many, despite his more than 500 other on-screen roles, as the lemonade vendor harassed and provoked by Harpo and Chico in Duck Soup (1933)—and regular Arbuckle antagonist Joe Bordeaux.

      Silent screen character actor Billie Bennett plays Miss Fatty’s mother, Mrs. Finnegan. After Bennett stopped acting she opened a renowned high-class bordello in Los Angeles—in which the prostitutes were made up and even surgically transformed to look like famous actresses of the day—that catered to MGM out of town and international distributors and exhibitors.


      The big event of Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers occurs when she dons her extra-large stripped swimming suit, delicately holds a tiny toy umbrella, and lumbers to the beach. Inexplicably choosing a rock on which to sunbathe, she is suddenly surrounded by the incoming tide, being eventually washed from her former resting spot. Going down into the ocean depths several times, the young Miss Finnegan cries out for help, one of the three suitors attempting to rescue her with a small boat that one readily perceives will have a great difficulty holding Miss Fatty’s girth. She crawls onto the rowboat only to be washed overboard once again, this time the “surf cops” attempting to save her. The surf, however, apparently, is growing wilder with every moment, and they too fail to rescue the maiden.

      Eventually she swims in by herself, angrily assaulting her first would-be savior (Bordeaux) by picking up and throwing him far out into the waters, where he struggles to save himself as well. When she discovers that her parasol has been broken, she breaks into tears, hugging the two remaining mashers closely to her chest.

 

*I just realized while writing this that in Some Like It Hot Lemmon’s Daphne, given Lemmon’s totally masculine face, is clearly a man playing a woman in drag, while Curtis is so pretty as a male that he looks quite lovely as Josephine, somewhat resembling someone like Eve Arden. This perhaps explains why Wilder and co-writer I. A. L. Diamond kept shifting Curtis in and out of male attire throughout the film, to remind the audience that Curtis was, in fact, a man.

     As I note below, I wrote this essay on January 16, 2021. On February 5, 2021 I saw, for the first time The Celluloid Closet, the film based on Vito Russo’s truly groundbreaking book The Celluloid Closet: Homosexuality in the Movies (1981, revised in 1987), works I had purposely delayed in seeing and reading so that I might come to my own collation of films without the assumptions and preconceptions that might have influenced my perceptions through Russo’s viewpoints.



    On February 5, 2021 I finally saw the film based on Russo’s book. In the movie, to my great surprise and delight, Curtis claims he based his characterization of Josephine, in part, on Eve Arden. I had never read of this or heard this from anyone else to my knowledge when I wrote the above note, and I chose the Arden picture rather at random. If nothing else, it shows how successful Curtis’ portrayal was.

 

Los Angeles, January 16, 2021, addition February 5, 2021

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog and World Cinema Review (January 2021).

 

Index R-Z

Angelo Raaijmakers I, Adonis / 2021 Peeter Rabane Firebird / 2021   Tyler Rabinowitz Catalina / 2022 Tyler Rabinowitz See You Soon / 20...