The Mollycoddle

Here's a feature-length silent comedy that deserves to be better known! Once we make allowances for its age, obscure slang, and some predictably dated attitudes, The Mollycoddle is a surprisingly fresh and engaging comedy, especially during its action-packed second half. It was produced by its star, Douglas Fairbanks, who was always careful to see that his fans got their money's worth. It's an exquisitely well produced film, beautifully photographed, and marks an early directorial effort for Victor Fleming, whose credits include Red Dust, The Wizard of Oz (most of it), and Gone With the Wind (most of it, too), a track record that ain't half bad. This may not be the most distinguished title in his resume, but it's a breezy and highly entertaining flick with something to say about modern life. At times it plays like an editorial cartoon come to life, aiming a number of wry satirical jabs at the decadence of the modern world, and even illustrates the bad guy's villainy with a brief, amusing animated sequence, a very unusual technique for 1920.

One minor hindrance for today's viewers is the title, an archaic term which requires explanation; a "mollycoddle," we are told, is "a body of man entirely surrounded by super-civilization," but that definition doesn't provide much help until the story gets under way. It turns out that the term refers to privileged, coddled young men who are essentially useless, i.e. upper-class twits. The story is a loose reworking of the basic situation in Fairbanks' earlier Wild and Woolly, and it's a premise that would be re-used repeatedly during the '20s by everyone from Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton to William Haines: a comically effete, arrogant young man must take some hard knocks and toughen up in order to earn the respect of his peers and the love of his leading lady. The Mollycoddle, made in the immediate wake of the First World War, offers a spoonful of nationalism as well: the silly, clownish Doug of the opening sequences must learn to become a true American, and cast off such affectations as his cigarette holder, his monocle, and his affected, pseudo-British speech patterns. By the end of the film he looks like a cowboy, and it comes as a relief.

I mentioned dated attitudes; this film's very first title card puts us on guard when it thanks the "picturesque" Hopi Indians who took part in the filming, and who "in their savage way heartily welcomed us to their prehistoric villages," etc. This seeming pomposity may raise hackles today, but during the course of the movie it becomes clear that the filmmakers were more self-aware than we might have assumed, initially. Throughout the film, right up to the epilogue, parallels are drawn between 'primitives' and 'moderns,' and the filmmakers make it clear that the Indians who live simply may be smarter than some viewers presume, while the "moderns" aren't really so different, or better. As it happens, the Hopis in the film are presented with a respect that is unusual -- and gratifying -- for Hollywood movie makers. (I wish I could say the same for the African American steward seen playing dice during the ship sequence, but at least his role is brief.) The Indians are not presented as an undifferentiated mob but as a community. Some are better educated than others, and at least one is corrupt. My favorite moment: when Doug addresses an old man with typical Ugga- Wugga gibberish, the reply is a refreshing "What the hell you talking about?"

At any rate, The Mollycoddle has a number of elements going for it: a despicable villain well portrayed by Wallace Beery, an attractive leading lady (Ruth Renick) with a gratifyingly assertive role in the plot, Doug's vigorous comic dance with a portly Hopi woman, and an impressively staged avalanche sequence. New Yorkers will appreciate the effete Doug's fantasy of life in the city (cowboy shoot-outs on Wall Street), while animation buffs will enjoy the cartoon sequence. As for drawbacks, I felt that Doug's transformation from wimp to hero, while gratifying, takes too long. We're fully 45 minutes into the movie before he reaches Arizona, shaves off his silly mustache, and begins his transformation in earnest. Also, while it's nice to see the leading lady assert herself, it's also dismaying to see her fold so quickly in the face of mild opposition from the villain. Still, over all, The Mollycoddle is certainly well worth seeing today. It represents state of the art filmmaking for its era, and is even somewhat ahead of its time in surprising ways.

P.S. Oh, and guess what: when an Indian says "How!" to Doug, the latter does NOT reply "And how!" I'd like to heartily thank the screenwriters for not creating a cliché template for so many later, lesser comedies to follow.

This is one of only two silent films directed by Victor Fleming and starring Douglas Fairbanks, but Fleming had worked as a cinematographer on many of Fairbanks's earlier comedies. The storyline here is similar to most of the other films Fairbanks made before switching to adventure swashbucklers with "The Mark of Zorro" (1920). "The Mollycoddle", however, is distinguished by polished film-making.

An introduction sets up Fairbanks's character's great Western heritage, only to find Fairbanks a mollycoddle--an expatriated dandy, who imagines Wall Street to be terrorized by cowboy gunfights. From there, Fairbanks must get back to his roots, defeat the bad guys and live happily ever after with the female lead. Fairbanks brought his usual boyish charm to the part and performed plenty of acrobatic stunts. Actually, I think, when done well, these modern comedies somewhat highlighted his talents better than did the later swashbucklers, as he's not overshadowed by a lavish production. Wallace Berry, a decade before his more prominent parts, played the role of the villain here and demonstrated that he was always a fine actor.

Surprisingly, an animation sequence reveals to us early in the film that Berry's character is secretly a jewel smuggler. It's no great feat in animation in itself, but its placement is remarkable for 1920. A rotating camera to represent Fairbanks's sickness in one scene, in addition to the apparent use of a small-scale model, transitioning between supposed establishing shots and closer looks, during the climax are other examples of the film-making ingenuity for this Fairbanks vehicle. It's interesting to see how much refinement in movie-making had occurred from, say, 1916 (when Fairbanks starred in "Flirting with Fate", among other films) to 1920. It was an exciting period of rapid development for the art. Another surprise in "The Mollycoddle" is the comparatively respectful depiction of the Hopi Indians; usually for a film made in 1920 (or for years afterward), the least one may reasonably hope for is to not have Caucasians playing Native-Americans. Overall, Fleming and crew did well to support Fairbanks in making a film permitting of a rousing good time.

Douglas Fairbanks is one of those legendary figures of cinema. Even today, seventy years after his death, his name is still vaguely alive in the public consciousness. Naturally he is remembered mainly for the series of extraordinary swashbuckling adventures he appeared in throughout the 1920s. It is less well known that he started his screen career in comedy, and it was as a comic that he made his name. The Mollycoddle is among his last comedy pictures, and also among the better ones.

Fairbanks's comedies were not a million miles from his swashbucklers. His comic niche was always the combination of humour with breathtaking athleticism. The Mollycoddle is particularly reminiscent of the adventure flicks, because like Zorro, Robin Hood and the Thief of Bagdad, the character goes through an arc of self-discovery whereby he finds his he-man persona. The aim of The Mollycoddle is still clearly as much to thrill as it is to get laughs. And the rather oddball sense of Fairbanks humour would carry through into his later pictures, although it's only pictures like this that we see it in its fully unbridled state, a cracking example being the foreigner's conception of America as cowboys shooting each other up amidst skyscrapers.

You see, as well as possessing an impressive physique, Fairbanks was a genuine funny-bones comedian. You can tell he is having great fun portraying the idle twerp that his character begins as, hamming up the stereotype for all it is worth. Even when the eponymous Mollycoddle starts to grow a bit of backbone, Fairbanks is sensible enough (and a good enough comic) to keep something of the twit about him, blending action with gags as he later would in his swashbucklers.

A notable fact about the Mollycoddle is that it happens to be the directorial debut of one Victor Fleming, of Gone with the Wind and the Wizard of Oz fame. Fleming was a pal of Fairbanks, both of them being rough and rugged outdoorsmen, and the star liked to have someone he could relate behind the camera. The young director shows his lack of experience, with some of the busier shot compositions being a bit haphazard, but what he lacks in finesse he makes up for in intention. A former racing driver, he was a man in love with speed, and he keeps up a solid pace in action sequences, often with continuous movement in each shot. Here and there he grabs our attention by having a key movement go towards the camera.

It's perhaps tempting to look for failings in Fairbanks's comedies, as if we might find some clue as to why his career changed direction. But the truth is, while none of his comedies is on a par with the best of his adventures, there is nothing really wrong with them. They were hugely successful in their day, and Fairbanks was a big star even before he began sporting capes and rapiers. It appears that making swashbucklers was simply something he wanted to do, or even something he felt was the next logical step. The Mollycoddle is in that sense a missing (or at least widely forgotten) link, showing us how Doug the swashbuckler was the natural extension of Doug the comic.

Richard Marshall, Arizona-born, is descended from great men of the past, but he is a bit of a fop. While vacationing in Monte Carlo, he meets several fellow Americans on a tour. The tour is run by Henry von Holkar. Marshall falls for Virginia Dale, one of the tourists. Unbeknownst to the participants, von Holkar is a diamond smuggler. He suspects Marshall is a secret agent on his trail and seeks to dispose of him. Meanwhile, the actual agent is trying to get the goods on von Holkar. The finale takes place in Arizona.

While today's audiences would probably revolt over certain aspects of this film (which I will get to), overall it's an entertaining romp. Fairbanks is fun to watch, and Ruth Renick is lovely. Beery, as usual, makes a great villain. The climax features some nice photography in the American southwest, and there is a well-staged avalanche. One film magazine reported that Fairbanks had been injured by a boulder while filming the scene. The stunts are held to a minimum, although there is a very good final brawl between Fairbanks and Beery (even though Beery manages to wear a suit through the entire ordeal). One rather interesting aspect of the film is an animated sequence (like a cartoon) near the beginning of the film, to provide some background to the plot. There are also some humorous moments. One occurs when Fairbanks gets caught in a fishing net, and almost gets his head chopped off with the other fish at a cannery. The guy working the cannery is wrester Bull Montana. Another funny moment is when Fairbanks tries to communicate with an Indian, using sign language. The Indian responds "what the hell you talking about?"

The Foreword expresses gratitude to the Hopi Indians "who, in their savage way heartily welcomed us to their prehistoric villages and with primitive cheerfulness played an important part in this picture." Whoops. The very next title card explains that "a mollycoddle is a body of man entirely surrounded by super-civilization." This made no sense to me, so I broke out Webster's dictionary and found that a mollycoddle is "an effeminate person." Whoops. Well, this was 1920. I'm not demanding this film be banned from the airwaves. It is certainly worth a look.

From the beginning of his movie career, actor Douglas Fairbanks was known for his physical comedies. A large majority of his 28 films he appeared in up to 1920 were fast-paced, hysterically funny feature films where the actor performed most of his many mesmerizing stunts. United Artists' June 1920 "The Mollycoddle," however, was last in a long streak of comedic movies by the actor. Besides a minor farce in 1921, Fairbanks veered his motion pictures towards the swashbuckling and adventuresome kind today's audiences know the actor for.

"The Mollycoddle," Victor Fleming's second picture he directed (his first was Fairbanks' 1919 'When Clouds Roll By') places the actor as an English-bred effete Londoner inheriting a long-lineage of Old West tumblers. The term 'mollycoddle' is a dated word for a pampered or effeminate man. Fairbanks gets caught in the middle of a diamond smuggling operation, and at the tail end of the movie his character displays physical feats of the near impossible in his attempts to stop a mass slaughter of his fellow travelers.

Fairbanks, because of the relatively close camera angles shot of him, was known to perform most of his stunts. But early on in the filming of "The Mollycoddle," he performed his signature leaping onto a horse trick. Unfortunately, the horse he was intending to ride on bolted just as the actor was jumping on him, causing injuries to both his wrists. The stuntman who had doubled for Fairbanks in his more dangerous physicalities in past movies, Richard Talmadge, did most of the actor's stunts during this production.

Just before Fairbanks embarked on filming "The Mollycoddle," the actor tied the knot late March 1920 to Mary Pickford. The actress, separated but still married to actor Owen Moore, had been carrying on a two-year affair with Fairbanks, who was personally divorced in late 1918. Prior to the eventual wedding, the actor bought an 18-acre hunting ranch overlooking Beverly Hills. He built an impressive 24-room mansion on its property. Pickford felt she needed to wait a year to finalize her divorce with Moore, but Fairbanks gave her an ultimatum to either get married soon or he was ending the relationship. Not wanting to blow what she felt was the love of her life, the actress was able to get an expedited divorce in Nevada in early March.

The two got married at their Baptist minister's house on March 28th, in a small, informal wedding. Their fans called it 'the wedding of the century,' and they were enthusiastic over 'Everybody's Hero' marrying 'America's Sweetheart.' The excitement of the 'Hollywood Royalty' coupling carried over during their New York City and European honeymoon, with crowds lining the streets in hopes of seeing the two.

Young 16-year old Archibald Leach, traveling on the RMS Olympic with his English performing troupe to the United States, was on the same ship as the famous couple returning from their London honeymoon. He had the opportunity to play shuffleboard with Fairbanks, and was so impressed by the stately actor he became a role model for the teenager. In fact, the soon-to-be famous actor, adopting the Hollywood name of Cary Grant, copied Fairbanks' habit of sporting a constant tan.

As a wedding gift to Pickford, the newly-wed actor presented her with the 24-room mansion as a wedding gift, which the actress immediately called 'Pickfair.' Los Angeles's first residential in-ground swimming pool was constructed by Fairbanks on the large estate, where the two could be seen canoeing whenever both weren't away on filming assignments.

The site became the epicenter of Hollywood parties. Life Magazine likened the scene as "a gathering place only slightly less important than the White House... and much more fun." Not only were functions attended by a who's who in the film industry, but illuminaries such as George Bernard Shaw, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Charles Lindbergh and Thomas Edison were guests at Pickfair.

When the two divorced in January 1936, Pickford continued to live in the mansion until her death in 1979. Jerry Buss, owner of the Los Angeles Lakers, purchased Pickfair several years after she had died, updating and preserving the historic home. He decided to sell it in 1988 to actress Pia Zadora and her husband. Shockingly, the couple tore down Pickfair two years later, claiming at first the place was overwhelmed by termites. But later Zadora revealed a ghost unceasingly roamed the hallways. She identified the ghost as a woman who had an affair with Fairbanks, dying there.

"I loved this home, it had a history," Zadora said in defense of razing the iconic house. "It had a very important sense about it and you can deal with termites, and you can deal with plumbing issues, but you can't deal with the supernatural." In place of Pickfair at the 1143 Summit Drive, Beverly Hills, address is a 25,000 square foot Georgian style manor. Only the entrance gate, pool house with its swimming pool, and a two-bedroom guest wing remain from the glory days of Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford.