DVD Review: You Never Know Women (1926)

YOU NEVER KNOW WOMEN

Directed by William Wellman. Cast: Cast: Florence Vidor, Lowell Sherman, Clive Brook, El Brendel, Roy Stewart, Sidney Bracey (The Manager), Joe Bonomo, Irma Kornelia, Eugene Pallette, Billy Seay. Running Time: 71 minutes. Released July 26, 1926.

Kino Lorber’s classics division continues its consistent releasing of important films in cinema’s history, notably this important William Wellman silent feature. “You Never Know Women” was a critical and box office success, helping to establish Wellman’s career as a film director and secure his employment with Paramount studios.

Paramount had purchased the American distribution rights to Ewald André Dupont’s popular film “Variety” (1925), and while this is not a remake, the showbiz trappings and love triangle does make it appear that the Dupont film was, at the very least, a partial inspiration.

Florence Vidor stars as Vera, star performer in a Russian theatrical troup, who gets involved in a love triangle with a fellow actor Norodin (Clive Brook) and the wealthy Eugene Foster (Lowell Sherman). Norodin, an illusionist, performs an elaborate stunt that causes Vera to believe he has died. Norodin assumes this sacrifice will allow her to marry Foster. Instead, Vera pines over Norodin, realizing her strongest connections was to him, and that someone outside of the acting troupe lives in a “real world” to which she cannot relate.

Wellman engages in elements of fantasy, with lighthearted moments and heavy melodrama without ever causing these elements to clash. Florence Vidor, whose film career concluded as the talking picture revolution began, is brilliantly understated in the starring role. She never engages in the sort of florid gestures that often permeate silent melodrama. Lowell Sherman is, as usual, a delightful cad, while Clive Brook is, according to a July 27, 1926 review in the New York Sun, “every bit as good looking as Lowell Sherman and a better actor.” Variety stated that the film was, “Flawlessly acted, brilliantly directed and filled with novel situations ... Wellman, at the megaphone, lifts himself into the ranks of the select directors by his handling of this story"

Vaudeville comedian El Brendel, appearing in his first movie (and first of eight for Paramount) is impressively subtle. During the sound era, Brendel would become very popular as a dialect comedian, working steadily into the television era, right up until his passing in 1964. Although he plays a comic character here, he is subdued. Brendel is quite brilliant as he confronts Vera over her attitude toward Norodin, his piercing reproachful eyes carrying the drama of the scene.

Florence Vidor was noted for being more natural with her screen acting. Even a scene where she weeps for Norodin, stating (via title card): “Sometimes you don’t know your love until it’s too late” is played low key, with Florence looking tearfully at El Brendel with tears in her eyes, but also with a stillness that avoids the blatant gestures that so often permeate silent drama. It is one of the most striking and effective scenes in the film.

Brendel is accompanied in his scenes by a trained goose, which is part of his character’s act. In his program notes for a Capitolfest screening of this film, film historian Louis Despres stated: “perhaps the strangest character in the picture is Brendel’s sidekick, Bozo the goose. Not much is known about Bozo other than he was sort of “in vogue” during this period. A trained Chinese goose valued at $2,000, Bozo earned his owner $25-35 per day and according to one article travelled from studio to studio in a limousine. His stock uniform was a tuxedo with tiny glasses perched on his beak. In addition to this movie he also appeared in 1927’s “White Pants Willie” and in 1928’s “Lady Be Good” with Jack Mulhall.”

According to the book Nothing Sacred: The Cinema of William Wellman by John Andrew Gallagher and Frank Thompson, Clive Brook was distracted during much of the filming by the illness of his newborn son. The baby was being kept alive in a hospital by specialists, and Brook was notified every half hour regarding the newborn’s condition. Happily, the baby did survive, grew up to become actor Lyndon Brook, and lived to be 77 years old.

Previous discussions of “You Never Know Women” are usually responding to the screening of a 35mm print from the negative held by the Library of Congress. Kino’s blu ray of this film is a 4K scan of the 35mm nitrate from the Paramount archive, complete with all of the original tints. It is sharp and beautiful with excellent contrast. There is a magnificent music score by Donald Sosin, an accompanying essay booklet by Gina Telaroli that is interesting and informative, and audio commentary by William Wellman jr., that not only puts the film in historical perspective, it offers further insight into one of his director-father’s most significant early films.

One of the many highlights of the silent era, “You Never Know Women” is available at this link: “You Never Know Women”. It is most highly recommended for libraries, research centers, and the collection of anyone interested in silent film.