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fibula-rasa · 2 months ago

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Lost, but Not Forgotten: Trifling Women (1922)

About Trifling Women

Trifling Women was a gothic and lurid tale of a beautiful fortune teller doomed by her own capriciousness with men, couched in a moralistic frame story. Contemporary critics, including those who positively reviewed the film, felt it proper to disregard the frame story. This “fantastic and savage concoction with all the weird fascination of a bad dream”[1] was compared to Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”, Theda Bara vamp classic A Fool There Was (1915, extant), and German expressionist landmark The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920, extant).[2] I’d take these comparisons with a healthy cellar of salt, but we can’t know for sure what ghoulish heights Ingram reached with Trifling Women unless it’s someday recovered!

In 1922, Irish-born filmmaker Rex Ingram was on a roll. He followed up his epic blockbusters The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921, extant) and The Prisoner of Zenda (1922, extant) with the macabre spectacle Trifling Women. The film was a self-produced remake of Ingram’s earlier Black Orchids (1917, presumed lost).

Ingram was developing a reputation for igniting the careers of his up-and-coming stars. In 1921, with Four Horsemen and The Conquering Power (1921, extant), he launched Rudolph Valentino’s career into the Hollywood stratosphere. With Trifling Women, Ingram turned Ramon Novarro (then going by Ramon Samaniegos[3]) and Barbara La Marr, who had both had important supporting roles in Zenda,into bona-fide headliners.

Trifling Women met disparate critical reception upon release—some called it a triumph on par with Horsemen and Zenda, one bluntly stated, “We are sorry Mr. Ingram has done this thing.”[4] Harriette Underhill, film critic for the New York Tribune listed Trifling Women as one of the 10 best films made to date in Screenland, November 1923. Regardless of the lack of critical consensus, Trifling Women was a box-office success. This is made even more impressive considering its theatrical run coincided with Douglas Fairbanks’ Robin Hood (1922, extant), Marion Davies in When Knighthood Was in Flower (1922, extant), John Gilbert in The Count of Monte Cristo (1922, extant), and the sleeper Thomas Meighan hit Manslaughter (1922, extant).

Rex Ingram, like previously profiled George Fitzmaurice, was a successful and well-regarded filmmaker in the US in the silent era. But, like Fitzmaurice, his legacy is relatively unhyped; at least in part because of the survival rate of his filmography. Of the 28 feature films Ingram worked on, 15 are lost or incomplete, and only 8 have been made accessible on home video or online. Public screenings of Ingram’s more inaccessible surviving films are unfortunately rare.

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[1] Picture-Play Magazine, March 1923

[2] Photoplay, December 1922

[3] Novarro’s real name was Samaniego, but he went by Samaniegos professionally at the time. This film was his first credit with the name Novarro.

[4] Motion Picture Magazine, January 1923

Novarro, Ingram, and La Marr Behind the Scenes of Trifling Women from Exhibitors Herald, 4 November 1922. Original caption: “It’s remarkable how hardened these directors become. This little duelling scene between Rex Ingram, Metro director, and Ramon Navarro was staged only as a recreational stunt, however, during the filming of ‘Trifling Women,’ Ingram’s latest for Metro. Barbara La Marr appears mildly interested in the affair.”

Alternate Titles: Black Orchids (Production Title)

Direction: Rex Ingram, Curt Rayfield (assistant)

Scenario: Rex Ingram

Original Story: Rex Ingram

Production Manager: Starrett Ford

Camera: John F. Seitz

Art Director: Joseph Calder (Implied in “Chit Chat and Chatter About Southland Film Folks” by Harry Burns in Camera!, 22 July 1922)

Studio: Rex Ingram Productions (Production) & Metro (Distribution)

Performers: Barbara La Marr, Lewis Stone, Ramon Novarro, Pomeroy Cannon, John George, Edward Connelly, Hughie Mack, Joe Martin

Premiere: 2 October 1922, The Astor Theatre, New York, NY

Status: presumed entirely lost

Length: 8 reels, 9,000 feet

Synopsis (synthesized from contemporary plot summaries): BELOW the JUMP!

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Frame story: France, modern day—1922, that is. Jacqueline de Severac (Barbara La Marr) is young, beautiful, and flirtatious. She carelessly trifles with the affections of Henri (Ramon Novarro), her true-hearted admirer. Henri proposes to Jacqueline in the lush surroundings of her family’s garden. With her desire for a freewheeling and fashionable life attended by many suitors, Jacqueline considers jilting Henri. Her father, Leon de Severac (Pomeroy Cannon), a renowned novelist, senses danger ahead for his daughter. Knowing her temperament, rather than directly warn Jacqueline about how toying with men’s feelings can lead to tragedy, de Severac opts to read his newest manuscript, “Black Orchids,” to his wayward daughter.

The Story of Black Orchids: Paris, France, at the start of the Great War. Zareda (La Marr) is a Parisian crystal gazer— a professional psychic. Her ardent clientele seek either a glimpse into their future or into the nature of her heart. The latter pay more handsomely than the former.

Hatim-Tai, Zareda, and Ivan in Zareda’s apartment

One of Zareda’s many admirers is the naive and dashing Ivan de Maupin (Novarro). Unfortunately, Ivan’s doddering, elderly father, the Baron de Maupin (Edward Connelly), is also trying to woo Zareda. This, of course, is highly amusing for the trifling fortune teller, who is known for her feud-inducing beauty.

Zareda and Ivan in Zareda’s apartment as printed in Exhibitors Herald, 18 November 1922

Zareda humours the Baron as he lavishes her with expensive gifts, which she treats carelessly—even adorning her orangutan assistant Hatim-Tai (Joe Martin) with pearls.

“There’s no fool like an old fool”

The old Baron is so keen to rid himself of competition for Zareda’s attention that he arranges for his son to go off to war. The possibility arises that Ivan and Zareda might impulsively tie the knot before Ivan marches to the front, so the Baron launches another scheme to occupy Zareda’s time.

The Baron convinces a visiting family friend, the Marquis Ferroni (Lewis Stone), to feign illness as an excuse to call on Zareda for assistance. This scheme was too hastily hatched however. Ferroni is a millionaire who lives in a magnificent old castle and is in mourning for his recently deceased wife. The Baron assumed that Ferroni’s bereavement would preclude him from being a rival for Zareda’s attentions. But alas, to Ferroni, the beautiful Zareda resembles his late wife. Attraction ensues.

Zareda chooses Ferroni over the Baron as seen in Exhibitor’s Trade Review, 21 October 1922

Ivan, about to depart for Flanders, takes a photo of Zareda with him, despite sensing her inconstancy. As Ivan marches off to war, Ferroni and Zareda are on a date in a fashionable neighborhood of Paris.

Banquet scene still from from the Exhibitors’ Press Bookfor Trifling Women

Faced with his new rival, the Baron plans a banquet in Zareda’s honor. The banquet is a set-up to poison Ferroni’s wine. An innkeeper (Hughie Mack) catches the Baron in the act, but the Baron pays him off. Despite the pay off, the innkeeper immediately gets word to Zareda, and she counterplots with her human assistant, Achmet (John George), and Hatim-Tai. At the party, Hatim-Tai switches the wine glasses and the Baron himself is poisoned. The revelers think he has simply passed out from drink at the dinner table and they continue partying. Hatim-Tai drinks a toast to the not-so-dear-departed Baron.

Ferroni and Zareda in a still printed in Photoplay. December 1922

Now unencumbered, Zareda marries Ferroni, thoroughly enchanted by his wealth.

Four years later, Ivan returns to Paris an officer, having received no word from Zareda in all that time. Ivan seeks her out and finds her now a Marquise, living the high life in a chateau. In the castle gardens, Zareda tearfully apologizes to Ivan and promises that she can “dispose” of her husband.

Still of Novarro as Ivan after returning from war printed in Photoplay, January 1923

Zareda wants to enjoy both Ferroni’s wealth and Ivan’s love, so, she contrives a duel between her husband and lover by suggesting that Ivan insulted her honor. Zareda knows that Ivan is one of the best swordsmen in France. She tears her own dress and runs to Ferroni sobbing—without fully enlightening Ivan of the scheme.

At the duel, Ferroni is skewered; mortally wounded by Ivan. Zareda, taking Ferroni for dead, falls into Ivan’s arms and they walk off together. Ferroni now knows it was all a plot. The doctor tells Ferroni he will die from his wound, but Ferroni proclaims that he will live long enough to spite the young lovers.

Ferroni is run through, Motion Picture Magazine, January 1923

Ferroni arranges his own burial and his grave is filled with rocks. Ivan and Zareda row a boat across a lake to the grave of Ferroni, to lay a wreath of black orchids. Unbeknownst to the couple, Ferroni watches them and collects the orchids after they depart.

At the reading of Ferroni’s will, Zareda inherits a looming property ominously called the Sorcerer’s Tower. However, a strange condition in the will demands that at sundown on the day of Ferroni’s funeral, Zareda must visit the tower. Zareda plans to meet Ivan there at the appointed time.

Zareda consults with her crystal ball about this turn of events and receives the message:

“You will meet your destiny at the Sorcerer’s Tower.”

She reads this prediction rosily and is pleased.

On that gloomy evening, Zareda arrives first—or so she thinks. She begins primping herself in a full-length mirror. In the reflection, shockingly, she sees the livid face of Ferroni, shrouded in black. Terrified, Zareda backs away from the mirror, into the very-much-alive Ferroni’s arms. Outside, the sound of horses’ hooves presage the arrival of Ivan. Zareda pleads with Ferroni, but she is in a state of horrified near-somnambulance. Zareda is led to the dungeon, all moulding straw and cobwebs. Ferroni throws her in, and locks the door behind him.

Ferroni and Ivan have their final showdown, from the Exhibitors’ Press Book for Trifling Women

Ivan searches for Zareda and hears her crying out. Ferroni lies in wait for Ivan and they struggle. Ivan is shot and Ferroni throws his lifeless body into the dungeon with Zareda. Ferroni places upon the locked door of the dungeon the withered wreath of black orchids that Zareda had previously left on his own tomb. Ferroni drops dead, his vendetta fulfilled.

Zareda and Ivan from Exhibitors Herald, 25 November 1922

Frame story: de Severac finishes reading his story. Jacqueline has taken the lesson to heart and agrees to marry Henri and move forward with sincerity and faithfulness

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Transcribed Sources & Annotations over on the WMM Blog!

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fibula-rasa · 1 year ago

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Lost, but Not Forgotten: The Dancer of the Nile (1923)

Alternate Titles: Tut-ankh-amen, Tutankhamen of Luxor

Direction: William P.S. Earle

Scenario: William P.S. Earle

Original Story: Blanche Taylor Earle

Production Manager: Dick L’Estrange

Camera: Jules Cronjager & Joe Goodrich (assistant)

Scenic Artist: Xavier Mochado

Set Designer: Paul Dodge

Technical Advisor: Capt. Dudley S. Corlette

Studio: William P.S. Earle Pictures Corporation (Production) & Film Booking Offices of America (F.B.O.) (Distribution)

Performers: Carmel Myers, Bertram Thomas Grassby, Malcolm McGregor, Anthony Merlo, Sam de Grasse, Iris Ashton, June Elvidge, Paul Weigel, Howard Gaye, Mother/Nellie Anderson, Beatrice Marsh, & Earle Marsh

Premiere: 12 October 1923, Loew’s New York, New York, NY

Status: presumed entirely lost

Length: 6 reels, 5,787 feet

Synopsis (synthesized from magazine summaries of the plot):

Princess Ankhnespaton [sic] (June Elvidge), daughter of King Akhnaton [sic] (Howard Gaye), has a run in with a band of thieves while traveling. Prince Karmit (Malcolm McGregor) of Syria arrives, disguised as a merchant, and saves the princess. The princess becomes enamored with Karmit and invites him back to the royal residence in Thebes.

While visiting the royal gardens, Karmit encounters a dancer, Arvia (Carmel Myers). He is instantly smitten. The princess is furious that Karmit has rebuffed her for a mere dancer.

Meanwhile, tension between those loyal to the king and those loyal to the old gods erupt when the seasonal flooding of the Nile river doesn’t occur. The princess finds in this situation an opportunity to get her revenge on Arvia.

The princess decrees that Arvia will be offered as a human sacrifice to the god Sobek, in order that the Nile will rise as expected. Arvia is adorned with a poisoned amulet to knock her out while she is fed to the crocodiles.

In an unexpected turn of events, the high priest Pasheri (Sam De Grasse) discovers that the intended sacrifice is his own daughter. Pasheri sneaks into the chamber where Arvia is to be sacrificed and saves her at the last moment.

With Pasheri’s aid, Karmit whisks Arvia away. As the Nile rises, the new couple sail away to Karmit’s kingdom to live happily ever after.

The princess goes on to marry Prince Tutankhamen (Bertram Grassby). And, after the death of her father Prince Tut will become King Tut.

Additional sequence(s) featured in the film (but I’m not sure where they fit in the continuity):

The Temple of Amun-Re is also depicted in the film.

Points of Interest:

While many contemporary reviewers of The Dancer of the Nile (DotN) didn’t mark it as an especially good film, props were given for the artistic effects achieved by Director Earle. Earle and his brother, Ferdinand Pinney Earle, were both pioneers of the era in special effects.

Ferdinand was a painter who contributed matte paintings and art titles to many films of the 1910s and 1920s. While William was primarily a director, both brothers ambitiously created films that were on the cutting edge in regard to techniques of incorporating matte paintings with live actors/studio-shot footage.

For William, it was DotN, and for Ferdinand it was A Lover’s Oath (1920/1925, presumed lost save for a few fragments), which was an adaptation of Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat. (ATM, I’m planning on doing the next installment of this series on this film!)

(Explanatory note: One technique at use here involves double exposure. Part of the frame is obscured while filming, leaving the obscured part of the film unexposed. The film is then rewound, with the exposed part of the film obscured, to film another element. The final result is, hopefully, a cohesive sequence.

Another technique is shooting through painted glass, which, if painted and lit correctly, results in the painting and the scene occurring behind it appearing as a singular space.

For example, a fully painted environment with live actors moving across the scene. In DotN, there is at least one scene where a live actress ascends a set of stairs, which is a painting. These techniques require an amazing amount of precision, but when done right they can be really dazzling. The double-exposure matting technique has persisted through most of film history, albeit rarely at the scale the Earle brothers were using it!

Below is an illustration of how a moving version of matte photography works from a 1926 issue of Photoplay, followed by some stills from DotN that used the multiple-exposure technique.

I have a few posts coming up that go into more detail on how special effects were executed in films of the 1920s!)

William P.S. Earle’s focus on the artistic elements without much regard for story or characterization may have left many critics cold, but DotN did prove to be a lasting attraction, running in theatres around the world for years following its release. DotN was produced hot on the heels of the discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb in 1922 in Luxor, which launched a new wave of Egyptomania. On one hand, Earle was cashing in on a trend, but on the other, he took the opportunity offered by assured profitability to experiment. In addition to the special effects discussed above, Earle attempted to capture as much period accuracy as possible in the painted settings, props, and costumes. Balancing historical accuracy with perceived “authenticity” in period art is exceedingly difficult—Earle seemingly had mixed success. However, one contemporary review in the magazine Art and Archaeology by Dudley S. Corlett (also the film’s technical advisor) is highly complementary of DotN’s attention to historical and artistic detail. [You can find the review in the transcription section!]

After Earle had more or less finished DotN, F.B.O. bought “Tut-ankh-amen” for distribution. F.B.O. financed reshoots that shifted the narrative away from Tut and towards Arvia, the dancer—hence the title change. I guess F.B.O. believed that cashing in on the trend of movies about dancers would be more lucrative than cashing in on Tut-mania!

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Transcribed Sources & Annotations over on the WMM Blog!

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