Mary, Mary, Not Contrary

Madame's Nightshirt

Mrs. Peperium

To those who have never seen her --and two generations have grown up since she left the screen -- Mary Pickford epitomizes the tear-jerking stories for which the silent era is celebrated.  She is seen as a tragic little orphan, lost in the cruel world, at the constant mercy of Fate.  Her name is well-remembered as Chaplin's; while he is the undisputed representative of silent-film, she has come to represent silent-film tragedy.

Nothing could be more ludicrously inaccurate.  Mary Pickford was essentially a comedienne, although that description cannot do justice to her rich talents as a dramatic actress.

Her films were almost always comedies, the light episodes being laced with genuine pathos and much excitement.  They were sentimental, but seldom mawkish.  The character of Mary Pickford was an endearing little spitfire. She was delightful; she projected warmth and charm, but she had the uncontrollable fire of the Irish.  Whenever a situation got out of hand, she would not submit to self-pity. She would storm off and do something about it, often with hilariously disastrous results.

Her playing was completely naturalistic; neither her acting nor her later  silent films have dated in any way.  She seems as fresh and vital now as when she was America's Sweetheart. She had legions of imitators but no rivals.  The ideal American girl is still the Mary Pickford character: extremely attractive, warm-hearted, generous, funny, -- but independent and fiery-tempered when the occasion demands...   --Kevin Brownlow, The Parade's Gone By

I left the screen because I didn't want what happened to Chaplin to me.  When he discarded the little tramp, the little tramp turned around and killed him. The little girl made me.  I wasn't waiting for the little girl to kill me.  I had already been pigeonholed.  I know I'm an artist, and that's not being arrogant, because talent comes from God.  I could have done more dramatic performances that the ones I gave in Coquette and Secrets, but I was already typed.

My career was planned, there was never anything accidental about it.  It was planned, it was painful, it was purposeful.  I'm not exactly satisfied, but I'm grateful and that's a very different thing.  I might have done better; I don't know.  There are unexpected circumstances that hinder us, and we just have to put up with them.  We have to do the very best we can under pressure.

I think Oscar Wilde wrote a poem about a robin who loved a white rose.  He loved it so much that he pierced his breast, and let his heart's blood turn the white rose red.  Maybe this sounds very sentimental, but for anybody who has loved a career as much as I've loved mine, there can be no shortcuts.  -- Mary Pickford

Comments

[MCNS]

Who gave poor Mary the shiner at top? A falling-out with Lon Chaney?

[Basil Seal]

I think she was dating Ike Turner...

[big spaniel]

Back at the Big U, nearly thirty years ago, when I was a freshman, I attended a 4 or 5 hour Charlie Chaplin marathon, and developed a hard crush on Edna Purviance who was Chaplin's leading lady in a great many of his short films.

And Mitzi Gaynor still has the best legs I've ever seen ever (and better yet, they can actually dance......).