Review - The Reckless Age

August 28, 2021
 
The Reckless Age – U.S., 1924
 

On IMDB, Heinie Conklin is credited with appearing in more than 500 films over his forty-four year Hollywood career, a distinction that earned him a spot on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Conklin was of German heritage, a fact that led him to adopt the moniker Charles Lynn early in his career. Later on, he reclaimed his family name, but continued to perform as “Charlie,” a result, it is said, of anti-German sentiments that existed in the United States at that time. I have seen a number of his films, and while I can’t recall any of his performances in them, I have a measure of respect for him. He survived the switch to sound, the rise of the studio system, and the insecurity that its fall brought to those unfortunate enough not to be a member of the Hollywood A-list. I say all this because I want it to be clear that what comes next is not personal. In truth, it’s not even professional. It is more a comment on the anonymity of the people above him and the matter-of-fact nature in which his role was likely cast.
 
See, in Harry A. Pollard’s The Reckless Age, Conklin plays an African-American taxi driver, and to say he doesn’t fit the role would be a colossal understatement. In fact, his appearance is so jarring that it takes you out of the moment. I found myself reflecting on the fact that just a few minutes earlier, we had seen a family of African-Americans at a train station, none of whom had been played by a Caucasian in blackface. There had also been an African-American worker on the train – also not played by a blackfaced actor. Any of them could have played the taxi driver. It was a reminder of the blight that blackface and yellowface left on Hollywood and how it has the potential to tarnish otherwise decent films.
 
The Reckless Age is a silent romantic comedy that no doubt influenced many films that followed, such as It Happened One Night, Charade, and Roman Holiday. It stars Reginald Denny as Richard Minot, an employee of an insurance provider whose job responsibilities are closer to Michael Clayton’s than any other character from silent films that I can think of. In the film’s opening scene, we learn that a certain Lord Allan Harrowby (William Austin) wants to insure his wedding, which is quite unusual to say the least. The deal is simple: If the marriage does not proceed, Harrowby will get $10,000; if he is the reason for its cancellation, he gets nothing; and if he does indeed walk down the aisle, he’ll have married into a wealthy family and all will be well. After all, he owes a bit of money, and as he puts it, he has to “take his creditors’ interest to heart.” Minor is the insurer’s insurance policy.
 
And with that, the film has put itself in a proverbial corner. See, Harrowby has to be a rather upstanding fellow; otherwise, he’d play around, the case would be closed, and the film would be over in fifteen minutes. Thus, when doubt is cast upon his identity, there’s a serious lack of suspense. Another misstep occurs early on in the film when a character’s identity is revealed in an intertitle. We then watch Minor and that character exchange glances, elicit smiles in the other person, and flirt in that cute way that two people do when they are absolutely thrilled to be in the other’s presence. Later, they finally get around to introducing themselves, and low and behold, it’s the person we already knew it was, and I couldn’t help wondering why Minor hadn’t known that beforehand. It certainly would have made his character more interesting. As such, he just comes across as unprepared for his big case.
 
A film like The Reckless Age can only end one way, and Denny is not the only star of the silent period to make films that had pre-ordained finales. All of the three greats comedians of the silent period – Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd – left their characters in predictable, crowd-pleasing positions – either married or satisfied that he had performed a good deed. Their gift was to make their characters’ final states feel both earned and eagerly anticipated. To his credit, Denny and his collaborators got this, so while their film has far too many characters and a couple plot points that stretch on longer than they should, whenever Minot and Harrowby’s fiancée, Cecilia Meyrick (Ruth Dwyer), grace us with their collective presence, it’s pure movie magic.
 
Part of this is due to how well they make us believe that their characters’ instant connection – surely Hollywood’s greatest contribution to romantic fantasy – is the kind that, were it to be unacted on, would create lifelong heartache and regret. And then there’s Meyrick’s 20^th century persona. This is a truly independent young woman, and were it not for the conventions of 1920s upper class society, she would probably be living a life of travel, discovery, and romance on her terms. In fact, several scenes in which she increases Minot’s determination by making him feel as if he’s failed brought a rather self-aware smile to my face. I truly hope the two of them made more films together.
 
Alas, despite its title, only a few scenes in The Reckless Age really give Denny a chance to display his comic chops. Fortunately, those rare moments are a delight. Minot’s taxi rides provide Denny ample opportunity to display his skills at physical comedy and a late tussle in which he is outnumbered is delightfully silly. Also impressive are a few scenes with Dwyer in which Denny is able to let him tough-guy demeanor down and play the love-struck young man who suddenly thinks he has a chance with the woman of his dreams and can’t contain his excitement. I now understand why Kevin Brownlow considered Denny to be one of the top five comedians of the silent era.
 
Is there too much going on in the film? Sure. I certainly could have done without the missing necklace, the imposter, and the best friend, yet I absolutely adored the way Harrowby’s answer to every predicament is to look at Minot and ask him what he is going to do about it. There’s also a clever bit in which we meet another member of British royalty, and darn it, he looks so much like Harrowby that you’d swear eugenics was at work in the palace. And then there’s Denny and  Dwyer, a comic pairing on par with Chaplin and Edna Purviance, Lloyd and Mildred Davis, and William Powell and Lyrna Loy. Really, they’re that good together. They make a likeable film a must-see, and that’s saying something. (on DVD and Blu-ray as part of Kino’s The Reginald Denny Collection)
 
*The Reckless Age is a remake of a lost 1919 film entitled Love Insurance.

Review - It (1927)

April 18, 2019

It – U.S.., 1927

An existential question: What came first: the concept of It or the article defining It? I ask this because the answer actually changes what would naturally follow the publishing of Elinor Glyn’s article in the movie It, which was based on Mrs. Glyn novel of the same name. In Mrs. Glyn’s words (she appears in the film as herself), “With It, you win all men if you are a woman, and all women if you are a man. It can be a quality of the mind as well as a physical attraction.” Now, if this is a new concept that no one has thought of, then all over the United States, people would have a reaction similar to that of the character Monty (William Austin). He clearly has never thought that such a thing as It existed, so naturally he goes and looks for proof of it, staring at the faces of both men and woman, as if searching for evidence of an attraction of such might that resistance is futile. However, if It has always existed, then Monty’s reaction is peculiar. When a term or concept conforms to or substantiates something we have sensed but not been able to put into words, one’s reaction is more likely to be that of acknowledgement or relief that you can finally say what you have long had an inclination to be true.

And what about someone with It? Do they know they have a quality that others do not, or is It something they have to be told they have? Do they notice the stares and envious looks and smile, or do they spend their days in ignorance, never realizing the power that they have over the opposite sex? Is having It a blessing or a curse? After all, how many times do we read reviews that seem to suggest that a stunningly beautiful actress is somehow not believable as a scientist or doctor?

Those looking for answers to questions such as these would, perhaps, be better off not watching Clarence G. Badger’s 1927 film It, for, truth be told, I’m not sure that anyone involved in the film had a clear concept of what It was. Perhaps that is why the film gives us an amalgamation of the above ideas. It is undeniable unless you choose to deny it; it is irresistible provided that you are not strong enough to resist it; and it has always existed, yet had to be defined for people to have any notion of its existence – and this apparently includes people who have It.

The film begins just after the publishing of an article on It, In an early scene, Monty, one of those people I can only assume was born wealthy and has never worked a day in his life, surprises his wealthy friend Cyrus Waltham (Antonio Moreno), the new boss at the “world’s largest store.” Monty comes across Mrs. Glyn’s article and becomes obsessed with proving its veracity. First, he studies Cyrus’s face and comes to the quick summation that he doesn’t have It, a conclusion the film will eventually abandon. Then he begins, almost like a judge at a beauty pageant, to size up the female employees of the department store. Soon, he sees Betty Lou Spence (Clara Bow), and just like that, he has found his first authentic example of It.

So, just who is Betty Lou? If you expected her to be the city’s most popular socialite, you’re mistaken. Instead, she is an ordinary person - single, employed, not economically secure, and, to her credit, nothing she does reveals any awareness that she has It. Perhaps I should add a caveat to that last sentences – nothing she does reveals any awareness that she has it yet, for just as Cyrus’s It status fluctuates, so too does Betty Lou’s. More on that later. Her first look at Cyrus is enough for her to wish that she’d get him for Christmas, and she exclaims, “Hot socks – the new boss.” (No, really.) From there, the film is really about her pursuits of him – the first to get him to notice her and the second to break his heart.

I suppose your level of interest in the film depends on whether you accept scenarios in which two people are said to be in love with little or no time devoted to developing this attachment. If the film is to be believed, It is all that is necessary for two people to fall in love, and it justifies all of the eccentricity that follows. I found it a stretch, and my mind began to contemplate other reasons for Betty Lou’s instant attraction, such as the economic security that landing him would get her. After all, if Cyrus really has It, why is Betty Lou the only one of his employees or work acquaintances pursuing him? At least, Betty Lou has two admirers, although even that number seems a bit low for someone with It. Interestingly, as strong as It is in the film, it is no match for social constraints.

There’s a nice bit toward the middle of the film involving Molly (Priscilla Bonner), a friend of Betty Lou’s whose recovering from giving birth and staying with her for economic reasons. There is no mention of the baby’s father, and a later scene may remind viewers of the end of Chaplin’s The Kid. Personally it made me reflect on the powerlessness of single mothers and the prejudice that society had for those that broke long-standing taboos concerning sex and pregnancy. I wanted more of this storyline, and I was pleased to see it used as Betty Lou’s motivation in the second half of the film. Does it negate the film’s central theme of It? Slightly, yet it also realistically points out the obstacles that class and traditional views have historically put in front of love.

The heart of the film is of course Betty Lou, and it is obvious why the role gave Clara Bow the status of It-girl. She is every bit the picture of a 20^th century woman – feisty, determined, independent, principled, and uncompromising. She knows what she wants, and she won’t be deterred by setbacks. As for Bow, she was every bit as talented as you’ve heard. There’s an ease to her performance, a naturalness that draws the viewer in. Watching the film, I marveled over the joy she seemed to be having playing particular scenes, only to then remember that many of these blissful moments were close-ups and likely to have been played to the camera and not a cast member. A good example of this is when Betty Lou is interacting with Molly’s baby. Another occurs at the Ritz, when Betty Lou is trying to get noticed by her oblivious knight in shining armor. I look forward to seeing more of her films.

So, I liked It. I even got a kick out of Monty’s quirkiness, yet part of me can’t shake the notion that the film has more in common with How to Marry a Millionaire than Paul Fejos’s Lonesome. By playing fast and loose with the concept of It, the film weakens its central notion of It existing in the first place. Thongs of men should be fawning over Betty Lou, and Cyrus should be flirted with constantly. I suspect the times didn’t allow this. However, by focusing so much on the question of will they or won’t they, a key character gets lost. I refer of course to Adela Van Norman (Jacqueline Gadsden), the woman Cyrus may or may not intend to marry at the beginning of the film (the movie only tells us of her interest in tying the knot with him), and if we think about it, most of us are a lot more like her than Betty Lou. Adela has known and stood by Cyrus for most of his life, and she has grown fond of him. But she’s traditional and safe. She would never think of throwing herself at Cyrus or making him jealous by dating his best friend. She’s the kind of people whom men often overlook in pursuit of what’s exciting and new. However, isn’t that the type that we often look back on as the one that got away? (on DVD)

3 stars

*The DVD of It that I watched was released by a company called Mr. FAT-W Video. Other than slight cropping during the opening credits, the quality is quite good, and I have no hesitation recommending it.