September 21, 2017
Hoodlum, The – US,
1919
Mary Pickford had it.
By it, I mean that practically indefinable
set of qualities that propels someone to that rarefied status that many actors
strive for but few achieve – that of the
greats. The greats are spoken of
with a certain reverence, they impress far after their time has passed, and
their movies remain untouched by the erosion and depreciation that years of
cinematic changes and the evolution of storytelling can have on them. And even
when the films themselves are less than stellar, they are elevated by the mere
presence of the star at their center. This is the case with Sidney Franklin’s
1919 film The Hoodlum.
In the film, Pickford plays Amy Guthrie, the pampered and
temperamentally challenged granddaughter of Arthur Guthrie (Ralph Lewis), a
rich and powerful businessman who believes in crushing his competition and
using those in lower classes for his own nefarious purposes. There’s even a
reference to framing an innocent man for a crime that his company committed.
Guthrie soon invites Amy to go to Europe with him, yet despite her initial excitement
– and the thrill of shopping for new travel accessories – she quickly sours on
the idea, an act that shows how truly spoiled she is, for only those with a fractured
sense of privilege would view such an opportunity as imposing hardship on them.
Ultimately she decides to hang out with her father (T.D. Crittenden), a “sociological
writer” penning what he refers to as his life’s work, on Craigen Street. Amy
reasons that if it’s good enough for her father, it’s good enough for her. She
is in for quite a rude awakening.
From here, The Hoodlum
becomes a virtual depiction of culture shock. First, there’s rejection, then a
quiet acceptance accompanied by an attempt to fit in, and finally full
acceptance with a tinge of preference. Modern viewers will recognize the duck-out-of-water
plot line and see its twists and turns coming a while away. The film devotes a
great amount of time to showcasing Amy’s attempts to assimilate and,
unfortunately, not enough time to showing her transformation. Craigen Street
has its fair share of suffering and financial hardship, but The Hoodlum lumps all of their
experiences into one heartbreaking example of a sickly mother and her
impoverished children. And while the moment is startling and abruptly changes
the tone of the film, it is also entirely simplistic and seems to suggest that
if this one family is helped, the
community’s worst suffering has been relieved. The film then quickly shifts
from dealing with poverty to the restoration of a wrongly-convicted decent man’s
good name.
As I watched The
Hoodlum, I was somewhat uncomfortable with its handling of the residents of
Craigen Street and Amy’s attempts to fit it. Was the film mocking them through
Amy’s use of their vernacular and habits, or was it being respectful by depicting
her being like “one of them”? Early on, I sensed it was the former; later on, I
adopted the latter view. I was also a bit bothered by the character of Amy’s
father. Practically a non-entity in the film – he takes Amy to Craigen Street
and subsequently disappears – he seems to be living there for purely selfish
reasons. He doesn’t appear to be trying to draw attention to the plight of the
poor or influence the actions of the local government. He just wants to write a
great story, and he even chastises Amy for putting his efforts at risk. It is
telling that we never see him talking to his neighbors or interacting with the
local children. Instead, we see him sitting in a mosquito net eating dinner, an
image that implies a rather sheltered and cut-off existence. His actions bring
to mind the worst examples of “slumming it.”
It would be easy, therefore, to find fault with The Hoodlum, and while I indeed have my
misgivings, they seem almost insignificant. This is Pickford’s film, and her energetic
presence and stirring looks at the camera make such reservations seem petty.
Her performance is a grand showcase of her range – from the pouting young lady
we see if the film’s opening scenes to the fun bad-kid character she adopts
later on to the mature adult who ultimately chooses right over family. We see her
go full circle. In between are some amazing moments. In one, she engages in a
Chaplin-esque dance with a man with an umbrella, moving unnoticed in step to
avoid the rain; in another, she looks at a family in need, and we see the full
expression of her realization of just how much suffering exists outside the guarded
walls of her grandfather’s estate. True, the film all too often chooses comedy
over drama and some of its characters turn decent on a dime, yet Pickford makes
up for it. She does it all, but this is not surprising. After all, she is Mary
Pickford. (on DVD as part of the Mary
Pickford: Rags & Riches Collection)
3 and a half stars
No comments:
Post a Comment