Suzanna

Suzanna is a very odd movie in a number of respects. Unlike any of Mabel’s other features, it is a historical costume drama prompted, in its style and settings, by The Mark of Zorro and The Sheik (the wild horse rides through the desert with wide skyline, for example, with respect to the latter) -- though we would never mistake the hero, Walter McGrail, agreeable as he is, with either Fairbanks or Valentino. But, of course, this is not intended. Suzanna is, after all, Mabel’s picture -- not the leading man’s. Also, in doing a film with an early Californian/Mexican theme, it seems not implausible that Sennett was attempting to revive Mabel’s memories of those merry days when together they made shorts like A Spanish Dilemma and The Fickle Spaniard.

We are at even more of a disadvantage with Suzanna then with Molly O’ in assessing its merits, as the present and only known available version of the film is missing at least two whole reels; and it may well be that these two reels contain some of the film’s best sequences, as some of the stills might seem to indicate. As is typical of F. Richard Jones' work, it is at least mostly a pleasurable film. Yet because of her off screen troubles, it at times takes on a seriousness not at all implied in the original conception. This will continue to be the case with a number of Mabel's subsequent films. Although as a comedy-melodrama, Suzanna doesn't fully succeed at being either -- at least in the conventional sense of these terms. Filmed at the time the Taylor scandal broke, it was presumably made under no little strain; and in viewing it, one senses that there were moments, such as the chaotic bride rescue and horseback chases, when Jones himself may have been as distressed during that later stage of production as herself.

On the incidental side, the film suffers from some poor make-up. The wigs and beards of the male actors, particularly George Nichols’ eyebrows in close up, are embarrassingly bad. Similarly, in the horse chase scene at the end of film, Mabel is seen riding on a concealed auto (or trailer to a vehicle) that does not look at all as if she were riding on a horse (as she is supposed to be.) These production defects, while worth mentioning, fortunately occur only in a few spots. Despite this, it is puzzling why things so obvious were not corrected. Another problem with a film, in this case relating to its Spanish setting, is that there are no Latins in any of the main roles. This is all the more strange given the then rising popularity of the likes of Ramon Navarro, Antonio Moreno, and Valentino as leads. On the plus side though, the photography of Homer Scott, whom incidentally William Desmond Taylor himself had first recommended to Mabel, is resolute and clear as one could wish and much better done than in Molly O’.

With the exception of Molly O’, wild animals, both small and large, feature prominently in all of Mabel’s Sennett features. Animals in film early silent films were always popular. Yet a further reason for Sennett’s bringing them in is to add a certain earthy realism to the films, necessary, as was deemed, to give balance to the fairy-tale like plots (in Molly O' it is the unadorned poverty of the O'Dair’s which serves this function). Suzanna has more animals in it than any of Mabel’s pictures: with cocks, donkeys, bears, bulls, as well as horses. In addition to their simple color and charm, the animals are also used as symbols of the action and characters -- such as cocks fighting and bulls locking horns. This invoking of brutish violence, while not always the most welcome imagery, is exactly the effect Sennett apparently wanted to achieve, again, to atone for the story’s too flighty romance.

Mabel in Suzanna looks even less well than in her earlier films, yet the assassination of William Desmond Taylor had not taken place until at least half way through shooting! What had caused this further decline in her happiness and vigor, we don’t really know. The Arbuckle scandal, continuing to live under the pressure of keeping the miscarriage a secret, other physical health problems, naturally are possible considerations. Right after Taylor’s death, there followed a two-week break in the shooting of the film in order that Mabel could better absorb and contain the trauma. Given all the enormous pressures she was already under, her success in achieving this was understandably indifferent. Robert E. Sherwood, later a Pulitzer Prize winner, named Mabel’s performance in Suzanna as one of the best of 1922. Yet he could hardly have awarded this for her performance as Suzanna, so much as he did for her effort to try to put on a good show, indeed make others laugh -- though the world was crashing in on her. As Suzanna the cheerful orphan, Mabel is obviously too unhappy underneath to be very convincing in the role. Yet despite the heavy weights she was bearing, she gives it her best, and remains as ever the stalwart trouper. In place then of Suzanna of the fable, we get instead a more meaningful performance of real life courage and forbearance in the face of excruciating duress, and it is this, not so much Mabel’s portrayal of the story’s fictional character, that Sherwood evidently most admired.

The opening shots are not terribly auspicious. There is a rather vapid comic sequence in which she tries to sneakily grab at a ranch co-worker’s lunch (the idea of which, by the way, reminds us of something from Chaplin.) Then follows a cock-fighting scene – Suzanna’s plucky midget bantam takes on a grand rooster and is victorious. It is rather tasteless bit of would-be comedy; though this is no fault of Mabel’s. No less silly, yet much, much better is the segment in which Suzanna tells the Indian Black Hawk that she wants to do the “tomahawk dance.” Here she dons a great Indian chiefs headdress, and undertakes a war dance, much the way a child might -- indeed exactly like a child would do it. She looks like a toddler, palming her mouth repeatedly as she gives the war whoop, stomping back and forth. Meanwhile, Black Hawk, kicks up an actual and authentic Indian dance (as if to show her how it is done); while Minnie Ha Ha (Minnie Devereaux) and another in the background join in. Black Hawk’s dance, taken in and of itself, is valuable as a record of native American culture; otherwise the scene is pretty pointless as far as the story goes. Yet Mabel’s antics are at least funny and cute in their way, intended, as they no doubt were, for the audience's children.

We come to something with more substance when, in order to keep her away from his son, Francisco, Don Fernando sends Suzanna to a convent, and she will have to traverse on foot a long trek through the grim and arid desert in order to attain her destination. Here real life and story merge nicely, which is Jones’ purpose. The harsh journey symbolizes the tribulations in Mabel’s real life as film star, including the cruel lambasting and grilling by some of the press with respect to the Taylor case. At the same time sinner and innocent, hers is a hard road of penance as she confronts the inimical and barren waste. Her attitude is one of “don't dwell on the obstacles, put them behind you.” This is partly reflected in a little walk she uses. It appeared earlier in Molly O’, and would be used again in The Extra Girl. What she does is stride with a focused determination. Her arms swing at her side, but otherwise and aside from the legs her body is almost completely rigid. She looks straight ahead as she goes, without once moving her orientation from forward. Yet at the same time, she looks not unlike a wind-up doll; which gives the stride its comic quality.

Along her hot, weary path, Suzanna spots a “good luck” horseshoe on the ground that she picks up. After looking skeptically and suspiciously, she flings it away. This is clearly a bit of joke to the audience about Mabel’s own troubles (including her numerous reported accidents and illnesses, as well as her connection to the Taylor case.) Finally and reaching towards the end of the long, pitiless trail, Suzanna arrives at a pond-size puddle. Nearby lie the bones of a cow who had not made it so far. Sighing both in wary foreboding of the bones and in view of the relief the large puddle’s water offers, she then drinks, and at the same time is refreshed in a kind of baptism (not inappropriate given the Spanish setting.) With the worst of the gaunlet past, onward she goes confident and renewed. It is a humorous as well as moving statement of repentance and courage – again, rendered more affecting by its commenting on not so easily ignored events in real life.

The last of the surviving of Mabel’s scenes in Suzanna that can be specifically mentioned here is a cheery Mexican hat dance with Walter McGrail. It is worth pointing out, that, except for The Nickel Hopper, there is no other extended dance sequence like this in any of her known feature films. True, the film's having been sped up is partly what makes it funny. However, there's no denying Mabel and McGrail’s grace and breathless high spirits. In the case of Mabel, a comparison to a capering elf is not inappropriate. Contemporaries sometimes spoke of her as being quite a dancer, and here is proof of it for all to see.

Of what follows thereafter in Suzanna, there isn’t all that much for her to do, and, she is essentially tossed about by the men as a helpless protagonist, with the inevitable happy marriage to the hero constituting the conclusion.

Yet all in all, Suzanna, while winning in moments, is regrettably a disappointing film. The problem is simple. Mabel was suffering from too much personal unhappiness to consistently be the chipper, Mickey-like girl called for by the tale.

Yet if we are willing to see Mabel’s performance as Sherwood did, namely, a real life portrayal of an honest heart under immense strain attempting to shine amid great darkness, it is something of a triumph. As inspiration and example, it perhaps gives the film a value well beyond what it might have been as mere conventional entertainment (even had it been successful in that wise.) Instead of Mark Twain, we (inadvertently) get Epictetus. Instead of Mickey, we get Magdalene. Instead of laughter, tears -- yet tears filled with hope as well as sadness.

That things only continued to get worse makes the effort here all the more poignant and remarkable.

The Extra Girl

As has been stated, the murder of director William Desmond Taylor and its aftermath as a matter of course had a devastating impact on Mabel, both in her life and profession. Although she does not photograph well in Suzanna, her dolor and ill health appear perhaps even more pronounced in The Extra Girl. Although she could get by to some extent as Molly and Suzanna by being sort of a caricature, by the time of The Extra Girl this approach does not nearly work so well. A casual (though not very sensitive or feeling) viewer of the film can rightly complain that she is not only unsuitable for small-town-girl role here, but that worn out as she appears to be at times, she is discomforting in it. While her eyes do retain much of the liveliness and expression, some shots are done medium rather than close-up in order to avoid too much detail of her face that (as we have seen before) had become somewhat puffy and pallid.

The Extra Girl was initially meant as a vehicle for Phyllis Haver, not Mabel, which Mabel, albeit in a friendly way, resented. Though her reaction was to be expected, given the change that had befallen her it is not hard to see why Sennett, at this juncture, should have had a difficult time finding suitable parts for her. Presumably what he really sought from her is reflected in David’s proposal to Sue Graham:

“Give up this idea of a career and let's get married.”

This message occurs on a number of occasions of the film, most especially in the conclusion.

Yet while Mabel leaves something to be desired in the central role, the story is better, and The Extra Girl is, overall, a more likable and satisfying film than Suzanna. It moves better, is more amusing, and the coarseness of the previous Sennett features is largely absent. Mabel does generally less well here than in Suzanna, yet Jones, this time, compensates and exceeds himself in his robust, optimistic outlook. It’s a story about a dreamy, yet spirited small-town-girl, who goes to Hollywood to seek her fame and fortune -- only to be sourly disappointed. As is usual with the Sennett features, Mabel is not wanting in a superb cast. George Nichols (of course) is back as the father figure, as is Anna Hernandez from Molly O’ in the mother role. Vernon Dent, who would come to be better known in later years by his appearances in many of the Three Stooges’ shorts, is humorous as a bumptious lout, not dissimilar to Eddie Gribbon’s in Molly O’. Ralph Graves, as the boy friend, David, is a propitious embodiment, as well as representative, of the undaunted supporters Mabel had in Richard Jones, and the rest of the production company, cast and crew.

Appropriately, one of the very opening shots of the film has a kitten coming to attack a ball of yarn. Next we see her all tangled up in the string in a ridiculous and hopeless way -- an obvious jibe at Mabel’s own trying challenges.

On a personal note of my own, The Extra Girl was the first Mabel Normand film I ever saw. This was at around nine years of age. I mention this, because it gave me a unique opportunity to view Mabel without any pre-conceptions. What I recall was that she made an immediate, and successful, appeal to my sympathy. I instinctively felt a certain pity for her. I could see, even as young as I was, that she was obviously “not quite right” for the part -- there is too much knowing, and the wisdom of experience in her eyes. She is too wan to be taken as a fresh young girl the story suggests; yet despite all this, there was something still entrancing, charming and lovely about her, so that the blend of the strange sadness, the age of the film, and my own natural sympathy for her left an indelible impression. This said, I only especially felt this in the early part of the film. As it moved on, my interest went less to Mabel as such and was led more to the main story and action.

Looking back now, those juvenile impressions were essentially correct. Mabel’s best, artistically speaking, occurs in The Extra Girl’s earliest scenes. As Sue Graham, “practicing” her acting for the benefit of her boyfriend and her mother, she performs a dazzling array of impersonations, expressions and faces: seductress, saint, clown (she does a wonderful little gag with her eyes), and damsel in distress. Snippets of these little sequences have been used as comic spots on television programs in our own time, attesting to their agelessness.

Unfortunately, Mabel gleams less resplendently for most of the rest of the film. Among the interesting things attempted, she rides a speeding buck-board pulled by racing horses and whipped on by her boyfriend (in order to escape her father and Applejohn.) Here she has only to sit in the wagon while the boyfriend drives the team. Following this is a shot where she runs, and, with help of her beau, climbs up aboard the caboose of a moving train. It is not as fluid and spontaneous as the athletic antics of “Keystone Mabel.” Yet she gives it her best, so that the effort is both moving in its way and admirable.

Throughout much the film we catch a number of the later Mabel’s peculiar mannerisms. These are not so easy to describe, and are, understandably, necessary to be seen to be appreciated. We can, though, mention a couple at least to suggest some idea of them. In one instance, she talks character A about character B, with all three present in the same room. With one hand covering the side of her face - thus facetiously “concealing” her from B (and also at the same time perhaps winking) -- she speaks to A about B as if B isn’t present. Another has her with wide smile on her face, her eyes all but closed: similar to the kind of smiley face we normally associate with Stan Laurel.

At the studio, Sue Graham, as prop-room lackey, manifests a certain insubordination -- kicking hats and goofing off. This “devil-may-care” attitude the passing years had not significantly diminished, and is one characteristic of hers that she retains with some zest and tenacity.

At one point, Sue has a screen test done before an old-fashioned, circa 1910, garden scene. Again, one gets the impression Sennett wanted to want to bring back the “good old days.” It is a nostalgic and unforgettable scene, even if the main gag used isn’t especially brilliant. Cast in the role of the “Actor” (playing opposite Mabel) is William Desmond, a veteran lead who had been prominent in the teens. It is odd that given the similarity of his name to William Desmond Taylor’s (whose original name was actually William Deane Tanner) he should be in the film. One would think it might be making too light of something very serious. Indeed, is Sennett perhaps mocking Taylor by pointing out his false identity? Though we don't have answers ready to us, certainly the casting of Desmond is very odd, and is not likely a mere coincidence. The motive behind it then is not entirely apparent. But be it what it was, it would be safe to guess that while Mabel tolerated the jest she probably did not care for it.

The Extra Girl’s most famous sequence is that where she walks a real lion around the studio set thinking it is only Teddy in costume. This is followed by Sue and the studio people’s discovery and response to her error. It is Jones’ action minded direction and editing that makes the scene work so successfully. Perhaps it was thought a little “shock” therapy would help Mabel, and who is really only incidental to what transpires. She seems to be giving it her best, but the fact is, she simply does not look at all well. Once more, she comes across as too unhappy to be properly funny. Even when she is smiling, there are times when she looks as though she has a hard time keeping from crying.

Why then didn’t Mabel just retire, get married, and have children? This is what the ending scene of The Extra Girl seems to ask and suggest. At first, we might think this might be seen as male patronization, but in Mabel's case it perhaps made good sense. For most of the picture, and for that matter her last few pictures, her get-up-and-go seemed to have given out. Although Mabel always did have her moments, her health does not seem up to the demanding requirements of ongoing performance. One could speculate at length on her reasons for not settling down and retiring from films. No doubt one reason was a desire to not seem to be chased from her career by people unfairly berating and haunting her with scandal. Another, understandably, is that she didn't want to so easily relinquish what had otherwise and hitherto brought her so much fame and felicity. Unfortunately, times had changed, Mabel had changed, and things were far from what they once had been.

“This lion is the whole show, far more amusing than Miss Normand.” [New York Times, Jan. 21, 1924]

The reviewer here is not really being so harsh as he is being truthful. More significantly, though perhaps not consciously, he hits on something more than he seems to say. The lion in this case is not Duke the lion so much as director Dick Jones and cast. They are all pulling for her, giving their all. Considering what she was up against, they are in truth veritable “lions” in their effort.

Yet because we are dealing with comedy, they are also "clowns." One is much reminded of the ballet sequence in Limelight. In a way Mabel is like the dying girl who the poor clowns are trying to cheer up and revive. These, however, are no ordinary clowns, but heroic and clever ones as well; and in the case of The Extra Girl, this is no fairy tale, but real life. Though her case looks to be hopeless, she tries, without much success, to pretend it isn't. The clowns, even so, are too loyal to her to give up hope; and so they go all out, as best they can, for her. The courage and heart of both Mabel and her encouraging consolers is what ultimately makes The Extra Girl a superior, albeit flawed, film. Again, as in the case of Suzanna, its accomplishment lies not in the optimal realization of the original idea and characters of the story. In that department it largely fails. Rather, as with Suzanna, it is in its unintended portrayal of some brave people in real life -- not fiction -- struggling against crushing and insurmountable circumstances that is found The Extra Girl’s most conspicuous worth.

Mabel never lacked for a good crew in Jones and the given Sennett cast, and in what would turn out to be their last and final go together, the latter acquit themselves most capably.

To Continue

Next
Return to Mabel Normand Home Page