Colleen Bobs Her Hair and The Stars and Stripes
by Robert J. AvrechF. Scott Fitzgerald wrote: “I was the spark that lit up Flaming Youth, Colleen Moore was the torch. What little things we are to have caused all that trouble.”
In 1923, Colleen Moore’s starring vehicle, Flaming Youth was an international box office hit that ushered in the era of the Flapper. The Jazz crazy kids wore their galoshes unbuckled causing the rubber tongue to flap. Thus: Flappers.
Colleen Moore, studio portrait in the Stars and Stripes.
I’m waiting for that particular fashion statement to reappear.
Colleen Moore, born Kathleen Morrison, (1900-1988) and her husband John McCormick embarked on a grand tour of Europe to promote Flaming Youth, Colleen’s career, and enjoy a belated honeymoon.
Colleen’s look, specifically her Bobbed haircut, was a global fashion rage. Contrary to popular opinion it was Moore who pioneered the severe cut—not Louise Brooks. It is sad and certainly a skewed vision of film history that the current Louise Brooks cult has spread like a virus, whereas Moore, a far more important figure in motion pictures, is virtually forgotten. George Cukor, a director who knew something about Hollywood stardom, was utterly baffled by the post-modern Brooks fever. When queried about the star of Pandora’s Box, Cukor forcefully exclaimed: “Louise Brooks? She was nothing!”
Anyhoo.
From where did the idea for this cubist haircut originate, so markedly different than the opulent Victorian tresses in favor at the time? Moore explains that her mother copied the look from a favorite childhood Japanese doll.
The new hairstyle sent a fascinating and complex message: this young lady is independent, plucky, fiery yet down-to-earth, tom-boyish but completely feminine; she’s the decent and adorable girl next door who is a boy’s best friend and then KABOOM! the love of his life.
Never a great beauty or a smoldering presence, Moore presented a new female paradigm: cute, feisty and refreshingly devoid of a self conscious sexuality. The surprising Bob helped cement Moore’s image as the modern American woman, and it changed the trajectory of the young actress’ career from feature player to star. At the height of her stardom Moore earned $12,500.00 a week.
The haircut also gave birth to a new product that is still with us: The Bobby Pin.
In Dublin, a celebrity starved crowd of 10,000 frantic fans broke through a police cordon and grabbed at Colleen who was wearing a stunning cape covered with intricately stitched tiny feathered plumes. Finally, McCormick lifted Colleen on his shoulders and carried her to the car where she arrived “looking like a plucked chicken.”
In Switzerland the mayor of Zurich arranged a dinner party in Colleen’s honor. An orchestra was present to play the the American national anthem.
Colleen describes the scene in her superb memoir Silent Star:
We’d no sooner sat down than the mayor, with a small bow to me, signaled the orchestra, who started playing “My Country,’Tis of Thee.” We all got up and stood very silent. When we sat down again, I said to the mayor, “That was the English national anthem, ‘G-d Save the King.’”
I should have kept my mouth shut. The mayor sent for the orchestra leader, spoke a few words to him in German, and no sooner had we started the soup course than the orchestra struck up again, this time with John Philip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever.” The Mayor stood up, beckoning to all of us, saying excitedly, “Stehen sie auf, bitte—everybody please stand up.”
We all stood, the orchestra finished, we sat down, and the American consul and I burst out laughing. When the mayor asked what we were laughing about, like an idiot I said, “That wasn’t our national anthem. That’s a march.”
The mayor, red in face, sent for the orchestra leader, spluttering German at him. The leader turned to me and asked the name of our national anthem. I said, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
He returned to the bandstand, the mayor watching him with an eagle eye. A few moments later the orchestra struck up “Yes, We Have No Bananas,” the mayor rose, saying, “Stehen sie auf, bitte,” and a tableful of by-now bewildered guests stood at attention once again. When we sat down, I smiled at the mayor and said, “That was lovely.”
In 1930, Soviet director Sergei Eisentstein arrived in Hollywood to set up several projects. The talented propagandist met everybody in the business, partied like one of the Communist hacks in Ninotchka, but, naturally, got stuck in development hell, and returned to mother Russia without a deal. Studio heads were baffled by his adaptation of Dreiser’s An American Tragedy. Eisenstein said a great deal about Hollywood and the decadent capitalists he encountered. He judged Marlene Dietrich dull, Greta Garbo stupid. But Collen Moore, rhapsodized Eisenstein, was the only intelligent woman he met in Hollywood.
Colleen Moore, Desert Flower, 1925
Colleen’s first husband, studio executive John McCormick, was, in many ways, responsible for steering the meteoric rise of her flapper film career. Unfortunately, he was also an alcoholic and frequently abusive.
Director Mervyn LeRoy in his fascinating autobiography Take One, describes a terrifying night when McCormick, on a bender, tried to hurl Moore out of a N.Y. hotel window. LeRoy—from an assimilated Jewish San Francisco family whose last name was probably Levine—saved Moore’s life by smashing McCormick over the head with a chair. The gallant and properly violent LeRoy—at the time a top “comedy constructor” for Moore—remained as her protector the entire night, the two of them aimlessly walking the streets of New York.
In Hollywood past and present, major movie stars have major tzuris.
In fact, Moore and McCormick’s troubled relationship inspired George Cukor’s top-notch insider Hollywood drama What Price Hollywood in 1932 as well as the three versions of A Star Is Born.
Colleen Moore, Her Wild Oat 1927.
Tragically, Flaming Youth, is presumed to be a lost film. Perhaps, somewhere in an archive in Eastern Europe, lies a decaying copy of this legendary motion picture. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
And as an example of how a lost film suddenly shows up—in this case Czechoslovakia—a Colleen Moore movie, Her Wild Oat, long considered lost, has been rediscovered and expertly restored. This article is an interview with archivist and historian Joseph Yranski who met Colleen Moore in the early 1970s, and remained friends with her until her death in 1988. Yranski was indirectly responsible for the rediscovery of Her Wild Oat.
Colleen Moore and the six-year-old Mickey Rooney in Orchards and Ermine, 1927
On DVD you can see Colleen Moore in Orchids and Ermine, 1927. Colleen plays a shop girl, a flapper, who’s looking for a sugar daddy. But she’s got to remain an innocent at heart, meaning she has to fall in love for the sake of love—not money. There’s romance, mistaken identity, and of course true love triumphs in the end. It’s a screwball comedy before screwball comedies were invented in the 30’s. Moore is magnetic as a gold digger who’s not as avaricious as she should be. A classic.
Colleen Moore in the dog house, in Ella Cinders, 1926.
Ella Cinders was probably Colleen Moore’s best role. In this spin on the Cinderella story, and much like Mabel Normand’s The Extra Girl, 1923, Moore plays a young girl in a dead end life who dreams of stardom, wins a beauty contest and goes to Hollywood. Once there, our heroine discovers that the contest was a scam. But with determination and talent Ella makes it in the movies and, natch, finds true love. This film is absolutely charming and Moore is delightful. Lombard before Lombard, Lucy before Lucy. You can get a DVD of the film here.
The Scarlet Letter, 1934, starring Colleen Moore and Alan Hale, 1934. This is a sound film, late in Colleen’s career. Moore was primarily a comedian but here she was trying to broaden her horizons as an actress. I haven’t yet seen this film so I’m clueless. But anything with Colleen Moore is interesting.
Broken Hearts of Broadway, 1923, was produced just before Moore broke through as a major star. Colleen plays the role of Mary, an aspiring actress who arrives in New York, all young and wholesome. Will she betray her friends for fame and fortune? This is a lovely show-biz morality tale, and Moore, as always, is genuine, vivacious, and utterly magnetic.
Reel Baseball/The Busher is a collection of baseball-themed silent movies. Colleen Moore co-stars with Charles Ray in The Busher, 1920, about a small town pitcher who is brought up to the big leagues but can’t quite make the grade. Colleen plays Mazie, his local sweetheart. Charles Ray was briefly a star of the silent era who specialized in playing rural heroes. On screen Ray was a one dimensional performer who relied on an aw’, shucks grin and a standard check list of hick mannerisms which appealed to audiences—for a short window of time.
Off-screen Ray was hugely tempramental, and according to Adolpf Zukor’s memoir had an inflated sense of his own importance. Ray spent his fortune lavishly and went bankrupt when he produced and financed his own pictures. Eventually, Ray devolved into alcoholism and uncredited walk-ons. In 1935, Ray published a collection of short stories titled Hollywood Shorts, Compiled From Incidents in the Everyday Life of Men and Women Who Entertain in Pictures. Anthony Slide, in his seminal volume Silent Players, reports that, “…an undercurrent of anti-Semitism is evident in a number of stories, suggesting that Ray blamed his downfall on Jewish studio bosses.” Impoverished, Ray died from an infected tooth in 1943 at the age of 52.
I saw The Busher on TCM—I have a TCM addiction and I am powerless to control it—about a year ago. Moore, was not yet a star, just another feature player trying to claw her way from the middle ranks. But as soon as she appears on-screen—behold!—a refreshing, exuberant presence. The petite and vivacious Moore just blows the eager-to-please Charles Ray off screen.
Colleen Moore as Mazie on Charles Ray's lap in The Busher.
Fortunately for Colleen, the black and white film stock of the time never registered that one eye was brown, the other blue. She would have looked cross-eyed.
John Gilbert, who rose to be the first million dollar contract matinee idol at MGM, has a supporting role in The Busher as the spoiled rich kid who’s vying for Colleen’s affections over Charles Ray’s salt of the earth hero. Tragically, Gilbert, talented but immensely self-destructive, had a tortuous love affair with the great narcissist Greta Garbo—she left him stranded at the altar—and then, with the coming of sound his career crashed and burned in a terrific orgy of booze and babes.
After her retirement from motion pictures in 1935, Colleen Moore dedicated herself to an ongoing project: building the world’s most dazzling and elaborate doll house, actually a fairy castle. She toured with the fairy tale house to raise money for children’s charities.
The house is an engineering marvel. It has its own miniature sophisticated lights and wiring, a self-contained plumbing system, and a Lilliputian library with books signed by some of the greatest authors of our time. Every single detail of the castle is simply breath taking.
The fairy castle is on permanent exhibition in Chicago’s Museum of Science of Industry. Here’s the homepage.
Moore also wrote a best-selling volume: How Women Can make Money in the Stock Market.
Colleen Moore was Mervyn Leroy’s champion in Hollywood. She also mentored the luminous teen-age Loretta Young, and wisely cast an inexperienced but jaw-droppingly handsome Gary Cooper in his first starring role opposite Moore in Lilac Time, 1928. Moore believed that LeRoy, an incredibly bright, energetic, and creative young man, would develop into a fine director. She was right. LeRoy was known—before Orson Welles—as “The Boy Genius.” So let’s close with LeRoy’s warm words about this important actress and Hollywood icon:
Colleen Moore was a remarkable girl who grew into a remarkable woman… and became, next to Mary Pickford, the biggest silent film star of them all.
Later, she would retire from the screen at the height of her fame, marry well, and spend the rest of her life doing important civic works in Chicago, writing books, raising her stepchildren, and doting on her grandchildren. She was never anything but a lady, throughout her career and her postcareer life.
Her fame, however, never went to her head in any way. Perhaps because of her affluent background, she was never spoiled by her wealth., never seduced by her notoriety, never changed by her success. She was always sweet—in the best sense of the word—and kind and pleasant to everyone she met. I doubt that there was a man who worked on her pictures who was not platonically in love with her.
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Copyright © Robert J. Avrech
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43 Comments
As always Robert Avrech's insight into the stars of the Silent Era is fascinating. Every time I read one of his posts I kick myself for not being more familiar with the films and the stars of silent movies.
[...] News Sources wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptF. Scott Fitzgerald wrote: “I was the spark that lit up Flaming Youth, Colleen Moore was the torch. What little things we are to have caused all that trouble.” In 1923, Colleen Moore’s starring vehicle, Flaming Youth was an international box office hit that ushered in the era of the Flapper. The Jazz crazy kids wore their galoshes unbuckled causing the rubber tongue to flap. Thus: Flappers. Colleen Moore, studio portrait in the Stars and Stripes. I’m waiting for that particular fash [...]
Any little girl who grew up in Chicago knows the name Colleen Moore. Her dollhouse at the MSI and the Thorne Rooms at the Art Institute were the stuff my childhood dreams were made of. I still go to see the dollhouse, and it's still as amazing as it was when I was six.
But even though I've read a bit about Moore via books on the dollhouse, I had no idea she was in so many films and was so big in Hollywood. I'll have to monitor TCM for airings.
Mickey Rooney, btw, looks a little terrifying in that still from Orchids and Ermine–like an errant member of the Lollipop Guild.
blackhawk12151:
Glad you like my profiles. To see more silent films keep an eye on the TCM schedule. Robert Osborn presents some real beauties.
ak138:
I have a confession. My wife and I were in Chicago years ago with our infant children. We did not see the Moore dollhouse. I could kick myself. Must go back.
Infant children might not have gotten that much out of it anyway. It's a pretty intricate display. But if you have a chance to go back, I think you would enjoy it. But be aware–the MSI is Ground Zero for school field trips. I would try going on a weekday during the summer.
http://www.msichicago.org/whats-here/exhibits/fai...
Thanks for the article!
I lived at the Museum of Science and Industry on summer in my youth. The Dollhouse is breathtaking.
You remain my favorite writer on Big Hollywood, good sir. I've been passing the links to my wife, and she's become quite the fan, as well. She's a big Clara Bow fan. Will we be reading about her soon?
+1 here! I've got some movie watchin' to do! LOL
My cynical self says that Louise Brooks became such a darling of the intellualoids because she went to Europe and made Pandora's Box for Pabst. Europeans are sooooo much better than Americans don't you know.
She looks like Diane Keaton in the first photo. Not a substantive comment, obviously, just an observation.
Ronnie Gipper:
Thanks so much for the kind words. Yes, I am working on a post about Bow, maybe the most inventive, naturally talented movie actress evuh!
I've caught a few on TCM, mostly due to John Nolte's recommendations. 'Sunset' was every bit the masterpiece he said it was. I also caught most of the Charlie Chaplin marathon a few months ago, although I have to say my favorite Chaplin film so far was the very much not silent 'Limelight'
Rather Read:
I think you're right. But the Brooks cult also feeds off her personal dysfunction: dipsomania, nymphomania, self-destructomania. And her two films are prime examples of the always fashionable Euro nihilism.
driver:
Yes, she does. Never thought of that.
[...] Read the rest here: Colleen Bobs Her Hair and The Stars and Stripes [...]
As teenagers, my grandmother and her sister went to the barbershop and got the bob haircut after seeing it in the movies. Their mother wasn't too crazy about this–she still had the long hair twisted up on top of her head just as she had done in Italy. For the rest of their lives, my grandmother, who died last year at the age of 98, and her sister kept the short hair. As first-generation Americans, the hairstyle represented the modern American woman, and, more than anything, that's what they wanted to be. It's not often that a hairstyle can represent all of that, but women like Colleen Moore had enormous influence.
LOVED this post. Very, very well done!
Carole H:
Great anecdote, thanks so much. Movies, during the silent era, had an enormous influence over fashion, interior design, and to women's make-up. In those days, stars were otherworldly, enormous in the public imagination. My condolences on your grandmother's passing.
“Yes, We Have No Bananas" – LOL
Damn, Brooks was totally nihilistic – and mean. My skin crawls when I read about how mean she was. There was one point in her chorus girl career when she couldn't find a dressing room backstage because every single one of the chorus girls loathed her. Louise was cruel. That there would be a Hollywood cult about Louise – who was so cruel – and not one about Moore who was genuinely kind – says it all.
This is the real God of Hollywood. Nihilism.
I first fell in love with Colleen Moore when seeing her interviewed in Kevin Brownlow's definitive multi part documentary about the silent movie industry "Hollywood." She must be near eighty in this thing — and still youthful and spritely — and still with the black bob cut. I could only find it on VHS tape, from Ebay — and worth every cent.
Carolyn:
Brooks was certainly a nasty piece of work. About 20-years ago I was talking to a Hollywood old-timer who knew her. He said: “Louise was a class A bitch who was probably a psychopath. She was also the biggest tramp in Hollywood—until Grace Kelly came along.”
KCC:
Thanks so much. When I love my subject matter, my writing improves—a bit.
John McClain:
I burst into laughter when I read that anecdote. Highly recommend Moore's fine autobiography.
Tim Minear:
Great series. Moore is radiant. And Brownlow's work is just towering. I reference his books all the time. I taped that series from PBS when it was broadcast, and now I'm transferring it to DVD. But there's a tracking problem. Flicker! Jump! Flicker! Jump! Sigh. Watching a few minutes gives me a migraine. I think the entire series is on You Tube. It has not been released on DVD because of copyright disputes. Tragic.
Snort! Well, THAT explains Princess Stephanie!
You sure know how to introduce a person and get the audience interested.
I am so glad I took the time to read this! I know very little about silent movies. I've only seen a few of them, and they were mostly Chaplins.
Thanks, Mr Avrech, for some good, interesting reading!
What a lovely homage to an undeservedly forgotten star of the silent era. My only comment is that I always thought it was Irene Castle, of Irene and Vernon Castle, who started the bobbed hair craze. She and her husband took the world by storm in the years immediately before and then during World War I. Their era ended only because Vernon Castle died while training a pilot in the nascent RAF.
It was the Castles who introduced all the "trots" — fox, turkey, etc. With the dances' popularity, she became a fashion icon, with her clothes, hats and hairstyles becoming instant trend setters. When she clipped her hair short (allegedly because she'd singed parts of it over a candle), everyone followed suit. Of course, Irene Castle didn't have the benefit of Hollywood's reach, and I have no doubt but that it was the lovely Colleen Moore who moved the hair style beyond the fashionistas and into the masses.
Grace Kelly a tramp? That's one anecdote I won't be passing along to my Irish Catholic dad!
The "Desert Flower" still reminds me of Ellen Page in "Juno."
Bookworm:
You are correct. Irene Castle cut her hair short and the style was known as the "Castle Bob " or "Dutch Bob." The cut was actually popular among female ambulance drivers during The Great War. Hollywood actress Ina Claire also cut her hair in a modified Bob—her hair waved close to her head. Colleen Moore's cut was a recognizable Bob, but even more severe and elegant than previous versions. Flaming Youth, in which she starred as a Flapper, became a humongous international hit. And that's the cultural moment when the Bob really took off.
I should have provided this back story but my daughters insist that I keep my articles nice and short because my long pieces are: "Waaaaay annoying."
They never read comments so I can ramble as much as I want.
Shana:
I'm glad you took the time to read my post. The more people who know about Colleen Moore and Hollywood's great silent era, the richer we all become. Thanks for the kind words.
I love this website!
Man – talk about good PR (for Kelly!) – from tramp to princess
I laughed out loud when I heard "Yes, We Have No Bananas" – and picturing the entire room standing and silent.
You really bring Old Hollywood to life Robert – Maybe you should write a book with these compilations? I am always fascinated by history and how we "got here from there" – and I learned a bit more today. Colleen sounds like she had a good soul.
That picture of her in Desert Flower is beautiful – in a wholesome sort of way. I would suspect millions of women identified with her.
What a great post–I love reading you on this subject. "Silent Star" is a wonderful memoir, frank and unsentimental. Moore was accomplished in so many respects, and rather than mourning her lost stardom, got on with life. I always thought her lifelong friendship with the brilliant King Vidor would make a charming, low-key movie, but biopics tend to focus on Big Dramatic Lives. Did you ever read A Cast of Killers, about Vidor pursuing the William Desmond Taylor murder? It was not a triumph of writing style but was fascinating nonetheless, and Moore was one of the most intriguing figures in it. ____As for Louise Brooks, I love her, but she was her own worst enemy. I think the stunning impact of Pandora's Box had a lot to do with her cult, that and her laser-beam intelligence and marvelous writing. When you read Barry Paris' excellent Brooks bio you realize that it was her own recalcitrance that in large part ended her stardom, and that Lulu in Hollywood is brilliant but not exactly a model of research accuracy.
Hackette !
I usually come to Big Hollywood for the political stuff (and often via a link from HotAir). But some of my favorite features on the site are the Hollywood history and "inside baseball" features that you and other contributors write. I had never heard of Colleen Moore until your article. I will definitely look for some of her films.
Sadly, I don't get TCM on my local cable channel.
Write your comment here…
Robert, what a great story. I wish you'd let me know whenever you post these.
I had never heard of her. She was a doll! Thanks for the photo of Mickey Rooney. I've never seen him that young.
Can't get TCM in the bay area either. Wish I got to see it.
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