In
Our Dancing Daughters (1928) and Our Modern Maidens (1929), Joan Crawford epitomizes the daring flapper,
living only for the moment, the eternal symbol (one of many glitzy symbols) of
the 1920s. We continue today with part 3 of our series on the 1920s – Then and
Now.
Novelist-turned-Hollywood-writer
F. Scott Fitzgerald saw in Joan Crawford the essence of the flapper, as he is
noted to have remarked:
Joan Crawford is
doubtless the best example of the flapper, the girl you see in smart night
clubs, gowned to the apex of sophistication, toying iced glasses with a remote,
faintly bitter expression, dancing deliciously, laughing a great deal, with
wide, hurt eyes. Young things with a talent for living.
He
might have been describing her in these two movies. Our Dancing Daughters stars
Joan as a high-octane flapper or “modern,” her name for the first time above
the title. This movie and Our Modern Maidens are "modern" morality
plays of sorts – Joan Crawford is not so much a scandalous woman but a survivor on
her own terms in a fast-paced world. There is something brave and admirable about her, despite the implied warning about a life of burning the candle at both ends.
We
open on Joan Crawford during a frenetic shimmy as she changes into a party
frock for an evening out. Her well-to-do parents, played by Dorothy Cumming and
Huntley Gordon, give her free reign, and she adores them. They have a great
relationship.
This
is immediately contrasted with the less well-off family of a conniving mother
and daughter played by Kathlyn Williams and Anita Page. Her mother wants Anita
to marry rich and passes on the age-old advice that men want wives who are
virtuous – but to get them one must be only virtuous-appearing and yet not so
virtuous that one fails to entrap a male and drag him to the altar. This will
happen to our hero Johnny Mack Brown, the millionaire’s son.
Life
is a whirlwind of parties for Joan and her “crowd.” Dorothy Sebastian plays
Beatrice, a friend with a “past” which she loathes to confess to her intended,
played by Nils Asther. She eventually does confess, he forgives her, they are
happily married, but reminders of her past are thrown in her path every moment,
straining her marriage. It is not smooth sailing for those who are not virtuous
to begin with, even if their friends and their families give them pass.
I’d
have to say my favorite character is played by Edward J. Nugent, who also
appears in Our Modern Maidens as a slick-haired callow youth with a smart line,
a boyish worthlessness, and a tennis sweater.
He has enormous personality and plays to the camera very well. I get a kick out of him.
When
we first meet Joan getting dressed to go to her party, she goes downstairs –
every private home and every public ballroom is dripping with Art Deco
ornamentation – she has a companionable drink with her father, and is toasted
by three young men all standing at attention in their tuxedos. Each offers her
a sip from his glass, and she obliges because she is Diana the famed huntress –
not of men, but of life and good times.
When
she meets Johnny Mack Brown, she does not immediately throw herself at him but
she flirts with him and they develop feelings for each other. Anita Page,
however, openly throws herself at him in pseudo-virtuous manner – always
insinuating herself in between Joan and Johnny.
Johnny
is clearly smitten with Joan, but he is wary about her goodtime girl
reputation, and he feels he must uphold the family honor by considering the
matter very carefully. In the meantime, on an outing with the fake good girl
Anita Page, she traps him, with the help of her conniving mother, into not so
much proposing to her as refusing to embarrass her in public by saying, “Hold
the phone, I never asked you to marry me.”
He is too much of a gentleman for that.
Joan,
of course, is crushed. And she is angry, because she feels that even though she
has led life in the fast lane, she has never lied about herself or attempted to
trick anybody into marrying her.
She lashes out at Anita Page and her "nasty little mind.”
She is disappointed in Johnny Mack Brown but she doesn’t blame him. She understands
that one must play by the rules or at least accept the consequences for not
doing so. Anita marries Johnny, but they are miserable. She never loved him,
she just loves his money and she has grown bored stiff being the wife of the
millionaire’s son. She runs around on him.
In
a climactic scene at a party, she catches Johnny Mack Brown and
Joan having a quiet conversation and accuses them of infidelity. She has had a little too much to drink.
At
the bottom of a very long staircase are three scrubwomen, and she mocks them in
a way that will engender our pity for her. She asks them why they are working,
and thinking of her own self-interested mother, “Don’t you have pretty
daughters?” She knows she has been prostituted by her mother for a cushy life. Here we see what will be a theme in later decades for movies: The younger generation blaming the elder.
While
quite drunk, Anita will fall down the very long set of stairs, landing at the
feet of three scrub women in a terribly sad end to her life.
We cut to two years later when Joan returns from Europe and she will marry
Johnny Mack Brown. Moral of the story? To thine own self be true. And suffer the consequences.
Our Modern Maidens is not the
sequel we might expect, at least not in terms of having the same characters,
but there is the continued theme of what’s a flapper to do to find true love?
Here,
Joan Crawford is called Billie, and an interesting point of trivia is that she
went by the nickname of Billie as a kid, and this is what her first husband, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., called her. This movie capitalizes on their real-life
romance by putting young Doug in the role of her boyfriend.
The
movie starts on the night of the prom where Joan is a senior at an exclusive
girls' school – again she is the rich, spoiled flapper with the zest for
living. Two jalopies careen down the road at night nearly causing a traffic
accident, and they pull up and have an impromptu prom on the side of the road, dancing to the music on the car radio. This is a generation besotted with technology, radio
and cars in a way that baffled their elders. Our friend Edward J. Nugent is
along for the ride in this movie as well, only here he plays Reg. Playing
fellows named Freddie or Reg pretty much indicates this is going to be a guy
with a hip flask in the pocket of his white flannel tennis pants.
Anita
Page is back along for the ride, only this time she’s not the rival nasty girl,
she’s Joan’s good friend named Kentucky. She is sweet, innocent, naïve, and as
loyal as a hound dog. She also has an unspoken crush on Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.,
and her infatuation with him is rather heartbreaking.
Just
as the title suggests, these young women are “modern." These are modern maidens
who crash life like they are crashing a party. On the train, Joan meets Rod
La Rocque, who is a wealthy man well connected in government. It seems that upon
graduation from college Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. wants to pursue a career in the
diplomatic corps. They believe that Rod La Rocque can open doors for them and
get him a post in Paris – Paris in the 1920s—this is about the only flirtation
we get with the famed expatriates of the decade.
Joan
Crawford flirts shamelessly with Rod La Rocque in order to wheedle a position
out of him for Doug, and Doug, though he has misgivings, goes along with it.
Anita
Page is also seen in many scenes strumming a ukulele. So far we are meeting our
quota of 1920s images.
At a party, again in the giant Art Deco ballroom, Joan
is the center of attention, dancing herself silly, playing drums, in a
whirlwind of jazz. Douglas get the spotlight, too, doing impressions—silent
impressions – of John Barrymore and Jack Gilbert and Robin Hood, perhaps a take
on his father? Joan disappears for a moment and then returns in a scanty outfit
with a wild pattern and performs not just for the crowd but specifically for
Rod La Rocque in a dramatic scene.
Douglas
knows she’s going over the top for his sake and he feels uncomfortable with it but assuages his discomfort by having a brief fling with Kentucky, who has such
a crush on him. He feels like a cad. “I was cad!” The title card tells us.
Meanwhile,
Joan gets herself invited to Rod’s hunting lodge, a rustic venue with knives,
guns and whips on the walls, guy stuff. Whips? He is in love with her and he
agrees to help Doug get a position in Paris because she affirms that Doug is
only a friend of hers. However, after the appointment to Paris, Rod La Rocque
reads in the newspaper that Doug and Joan are going to be married. Well now,
isn’t this awkward.
She
tries to apologize for shamelessly using him and leading him on, but he, hurt and angry, sets her up at his hunting lodge for a fate worse than death, and when
she shrinks from him, he goads her, “What’s the matter? I thought you
were a 'modern'!” Wearing nothing but his bathrobe (clothes got all wet in the rain), she submits to him because she
feels she owes him, but he pulls back and she admiringly says, “I knew you were
too decent.”
He
throws it back in her face. “It’s not decency. I just don’t want you.” It is a
great line and she is as shattered as she is relieved, because she is
ashamed.
Doug
and Joan have an opulent wedding, but Kentucky is clearly upset and not just
because she is losing Doug. Finally, Joan gets the truth out of her when Joan
discovers a doctor’s appointment card for “Mrs.” Kentucky. This is movie code
for Kentucky has gone to a GYN and she is pregnant.
“I
didn’t want you to know, Billie!” Kentucky apparently wants to spare both her
friends and when Doug enters to collect his bride and go on the honeymoon, he is flummoxed because he didn’t know Kentucky
was pregnant after their one fling either. “You poor, brave little kid!” Doug
says. Nobody seems to realize how humiliating this sounds, even in a silent movie.
Unlike Our Dancing Daughters, where Joan paid
the price of losing a lover but then eventually gets him back through the
convenient death of the third person in the triangle, this movie takes an
interesting turn. Joan simply gives Doug to Kentucky. We’re never told if Doug,
who is truly fond of Kentucky, really wants to spend the rest of his life
married to her. Nevertheless, this is
what Joan does because she loves both of them, and she skips out and pretends to be a true modern, an uncaring, selfish
woman with loose morals and no feelings, parading this persona for the sake of
the reporters, of her friends, and her father, who washes his hands of her.
“What
you think of a girl going on a honeymoon alone. Modern, isn’t it?” For a moment,
our Edward J. Nugent steps out of his callow youth role and attempts to stand
up to the crowd with her to give her support, but she kindly and sweetly says
she is going alone. She will take no one along the path to perdition with her.
She
goes off to Paris, but she is eventually joined by Rod, still reading about her
in newspapers. He still loves her, and
she will go back with him to his cottage in the Argentine.
It doesn’t seem like the “modern” thing to
do, but perhaps the 1920s flappers were having second thoughts about the whole
flapper thing. Society might have gotten
a little tired of the wild party, too. A
huge hangover was coming at the end of 1929.
The
decade was notable for being perhaps the first wave of a future norm where the
youth of the country seemed to run the show. Their tastes and their interests
were catered to, and created, American pop culture.
Both
Joan Crawford and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., are quite good in this movie, both
attractive and able to woo the camera with a glance or a clinch, or, as in Joan’s
case, a spirited Charleston, and we can see why Joan Crawford became a star in
this role of the flapper. She gets to show a lot of different emotions like
selfishness, regret, loyalty, love, shame. She laughs, she cries, she dances.
It’s
a silent movie but there are sounds added to the track in which we hear the
buzz of a crowd, a radio announcement. There is no dialogue except for what we
see on the title cards, but there is incidental background noise, a way to ease
us into sound pictures. Our Dancing Daughters made her a star. It has been reported that she climbed out of the
lesser roles in Hollywood by making the producers notice her when she
moonlighted in dance contests. She “rocked”
the Charleston, and the Black Bottom.
Douglas
Fairbanks, Jr., and Joan were married just before the movie was released and they
were married for four years. But unlike the characters of the “moderns” she
played, she was not welcome by Doug’s father, Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., and stepmother,
Mary Pickford, and she felt out of place in their world. Her background was really
more like the shop girls that she would portray in the 1930s, beginning with
her next film released in 1930, which was considered the third in the trilogy
of films, called Our Blushing Brides.
That one is a sound film and we see that Joan makes the transition to sound
recording very well. She does not play the same character, of course; she plays
a department store clerk and her love interest is Robert Montgomery. When glancing at this trilogy of films, we can
see where Joan’s career and film persona was headed, and where the country was going,
too. The flashy “moderns” she played in Our Dancing Daughters and in Our Modern Maidens were left behind in
the 1920s. When the party ended, the
flapper had either left the room, or was passed out on the floor.
In
Our Blushing Brides she’s the working
girl, who might be Cinderella, or maybe just another dame down on her luck.
Women revolutionized the decade as much as they scandalized it. Fashions, mores, work force, and the economy rode the waves of women's empowerment. This was gently satirized in Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967), as we mentioned in the intro, but our now somewhat condescending view of that era and its women belies the fact that they set the stage for much of the twentieth century.
Women revolutionized the decade as much as they scandalized it. Fashions, mores, work force, and the economy rode the waves of women's empowerment. This was gently satirized in Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967), as we mentioned in the intro, but our now somewhat condescending view of that era and its women belies the fact that they set the stage for much of the twentieth century.
Come
back next Thursday the 22nd when we discuss the last film in our 1920s
series, a Marx Brothers romp, The Cocoanuts
from 1929. It reflects not only the
zaniness of the 1920s, and of the Marx Brothers brand in particular, but also
hints at our near future as it makes fun of the Florida land boom that went
bust in the middle 1920s, a forerunner to the terrific stock market crash just
a few months after the movie was released.
The
first two posts in this series are the intro here, and The Racket (1928).
2 comments:
I wonder how Joan felt about those days and her image as she matured. Did it seem like yesterday or another life?
When I was a kid my Nana taught us the songs of her youth. I don't know where I learned about them, but I asked her if she was a flapper. She said no, but she was a hockey player and showed us her team picture. There's always a lot more to an era than those stereotypes, but those stereotypes remain because at their core there is a truth to what they represent.
Joan Crawford's unique ability to survive as a top star all those years seemed to hinge on her remaking herself in each decade. I don't know how intentional it was, or if she just had a canny ability to go with the flow. I wonder if she looked back on it, or just kept moving.
Hockey-playing Nana. I love it. The era did seem to influence pretty much everybody, flapper or no. My mother was a child during the decade, too young to be a flapper, yet she wore the bobbed hair. Her mother, who had been a young woman before WWI, and an immigrant to boot, is shown in photos of the day with bobbed hair and a drop-waist dress. My father's mother also bobbed her flaming red hair, to the consternation of her husband. Her reply to me in recounting the story was, "So what? It was MY hair." They were both in thirties, settled married women with children, but the fashion and the attitudes -- at least a little of it -- filtered down.
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