Winifred Greenwood: 'Versatile Artist of the Silent Drama'

Winifred Greenwood toured in vaudeville, performed in musical comedies, and did dramatic stock work before joining the film world. She was versatile, consistent and a hard worker, helping her work consistently through the early days of film and into the early talkies. And she, like so many others, got her start in the movies in Chicago.

Greenwood was born January 1, 1885 in Genesee, New York. Like so many other stars of the silent screen, she got her taste of the limelight at a young age. She told Motography that she made her debut as Leah in “Leah The Forsaken” at the age of 3, filling in for the play's regular little starlet. This taste of the spotlight woke something within Greenwood and by 10, she was performing regularly on stage. She told the film magazines that she toured in vaudeville for three years, traveling with her mother until her mother died. Around 1905, she tried the world of musical comedy before settling on dramatic stage work. She joined a stock company in South Bend, Indiana around 1909 and, she told the magazines, even had her own stock company for a time out of Fort Wayne. The strain of stock work began to get to her, however, and when the opportunity arose to join the Selig Polyscope Co. in Chicago, she accepted, joining the group in roughly April 1911. (It should be noted that, though it's not referenced in any contemporary publications, she is credited as playing Momba in “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” film from Selig Polyscope in 1910.)

By the time she joined Selig, she had eloped, had two children and divorced, a fact that even shocked the fan magazine reporters at the time. Little Reine and Alonzo were sent to boarding school in Kalamazoo, Michigan while their mother worked, but when he was a little older, Alonzo was given the chance to act on screen in Flying A's “A Pitchfall of the Installment Plan.” Greenwood was with Selig for just over two years, and won praise for her performances in “The Two Orphans” and as spies on opposite sides of the Civil War in “Pauline Cushman, A Federal Spy” and “Belle Boyd, A Confederate Spy.”

Winifred Greenwood in "Pauline Cushman, A Federal Spy"

In July 1913, she announced she had completed her engagement with Selig, and gave lectures on film in South Bend during her downtime. In August, it was announced that Greenwood had joined Flying A in Santa Barbara for a “large salary.” She took on a variety of roles to help expand her wheelhouse beyond the roles given to her at Selig. She was a leading lady alongside Charlotte Burton, and Burton often stepped in to take on roles originally slated for Greenwood when she was sick or injured.

In addition to having the ability to develop her professional life, she made some changes in her personal life. In late 1913, she married fellow actor and director George Field. Although 1914 was a bit of a bumpy year (she was laid up for about a month due to injuries sustained from a motorcycle accident), by 1915 she was receiving some of the greatest reviews of her career. Motography gushed over “When a Woman Waits” saying, “The work of Miss Greenwood...is an almost perfect example of what can be accomplished by an artist through the medium of the silent drama.”

George Field and Winifred Greenwood

In 1916, she seemed to be on her way to super stardom. She was co-starring with Frank Ritchie and slotted to star in Mutual Masterpiece De Luxe productions. She even joined up with Selig again to take part in a new production of “Two Orphans,” featuring her old Selig co-stars Kathlyn Williams and Adrienne Kroell. Then, her contract was included in a $1-million contract between General Films and Balboa Studios, along with stars like Vola Vale. She appears to have briefly went into retirement, but emerged to play leads in four-reeler Fortune Photoplays produced by Balboa. Then, her career began to slow.

She kept working consistently, but she was no longer the star of the picture. In 1919, she began appearing in Paramount films, in Richard Dix and Ethel Clayton vehicles as well as Zane Grey films. She made an uncredited appearance in 1936’s “The Music Goes ‘Round,” but she essentially retired in 1927.

Her husband George had also worked consistently through the early ‘20s, but the couple appears to have split up some time before his untimely death in 1925 from tuberculosis (she declared a divorced status on the 1930 census, and widowed status on the 1940). Regardless, she doesn’t appear to have remarried. Greenwood herself died November 23, 1961.

There was a stigma associated with the movies in the early days of film. “Legitimate” actors were afraid to be associated with them, and film actors were generally looked down on well into the early days of Hollywood (especially by the city's resident citizens). But Greenwood, perhaps more than any other early star, saw the potential film had to offer. In 1913, she told the following to Motography magazine.

“The moving picture artist has as large a scope as any in the theatrical field to improve himself or herself, and also to ‘uplift’ the profession, which the majority of us are anxious to do. I predict a grand, glorious future for the moving picture world, and in time it will be universally recognized as belonging to the ‘legitimate.’”

Want to see the fabulous Winifred Greenwood in action? Watch her in the role of Clara in the Mary Pickford vehicle “M’Liss” below.

Mae Hotely: The Woman Who Made People Laugh

Mae Hotely was respected as a comedienne, a dramatic actress, and a versatile character actress. She was once referred to as “The character actress who makes things happen in Lubin films,” and she headed the company’s comedy arm under her husband watchful eye. But as the 1910s came to an end, the studio systems began to take shape, and Lubin declared bankruptcy, she faded into the background, largely forgotten to modern audiences.

Much like Theda Bara, there’s a great deal of myth and misinformation surrounding Hotely’s birth and parentage. While she refused to divulge her age to the fan magazines, and claimed a variety of family histories, the oft-told story was that she was born in France and educated in a convent in Paris. Maye Shearor was actually born in Maryland in 1872 to William and Agnes Shearor (born in Scotland and Maryland, respectively). She would later claim different birthplaces for her father, her mother and herself on censuses, but the aforementioned dates and details were culled from the 1880 census (and probably much more reliable than Hotely herself).

She got involved in theatrical work via stock companies, and joined the Lubin company around the turn of the century. She moved from the stage branch to the film branch around 1907, and spoke highly of film to the fan magazines. “I think the motion picture is one of the most potent agencies for good in our modern life. It provides instruction and wholesome, innocent entertainment for the masses of the people,” she told Motion Picture Story in 1912, and Hotely herself was a very important part of that innocent entertainment, while under the direction of her husband Arthur Hotaling.

Arthur Hotaling and Mae Hotely

Hotely and Hotaling were married in August 1902, and she actually created her stage name as a play on his. He directed her at Lubin, and she remained the constant player in his company of actors. She was the star of the Lubin Comedy Company, and for good reason. She was well-versed in the ways of early screen comedy and was incredibly adept at makeup and transforming her appearance from one film to the next. If there was an old woman, a juvenile, a suffragette, or a crotchety maid in a Lubin picture, it was often her.

Although her comedic roles were what brought her fame, and brought audiences to theaters, she said she wanted to play dramatic roles, noting that the company wouldn’t let her. She did manage to get in a handful of dramatic roles a year, and won praise for them, as well.

Because Lubin was based in Philadelphia, the studio was essentially at a standstill for months at a time because of the harsh winter. Then Hotaling discovered that moving his company to a studio in Jacksonville, Florida would guarantee production when Philadelphia would not. The Jacksonville studio provided the group with a different environment and setting to work with and, for Hotely, a chance to explore her daredevil side. She took to outdoor sports quickly. Horseback riding, automobiling, motor boating, swimming, golfing...she was no dainty flower, and could keep up with the rest of the guys. Even Leola got the chance to appear in a film or two herself.

Lubin players, with Mae Hotely (top row, middle) & Arthur & Leola Hotaling (bottom row, middle) 

After four years in Jacksonville, Hotaling made big changes. He uprooted the company, cut ties with a number of players, and moved the remaining few to set up shop in LA in 1915. He positioned the company with the intention of billing Mae as the star, but she needed someone to play off of. Fred Karno graduate Billie Reeves was engaged to play opposite her, as was a young Oliver Hardy, but by 1916, her popularity was waning. The woman who used to dominate fan contests left and right was suddenly singled out by the folks at Photoplay who were asking readers, “How long since you have seen Hotely in new roles which impressed you?” Shortly after that, Lubin declared bankruptcy and she disappeared from the film landscape until a role in “Girls Who Dare” brought her back briefly in 1929. Hotaling, on the other hand, continued to direct into the ‘20s.

Mae Hotely drumming up votes in a popular photoplayer contest

By 1930, she was retired. Hotaling died eight years later, and though some sources claim otherwise, they were still married at the time of his death. The 1940 census lists Hotely as the widowed head of house, living with her daughter and son in law. She died April 6, 1954 in San Diego.

I can't help but wonder what might have happened had Hotely's career been resurrected with that appearance in 1929. Like Marie Dressler, I can see her taking on character roles, playing just-past-their prime matriarchs and ornery mothers-in-law. Unfortunately, the opportunity never came around, and the ability to watch Hotely's Lubin films is extremely limited, making it difficult for us to appreciate just how popular she was at her height.

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Adrienne Kroell: The Selig Coquette

Adrienne Kroell was dubbed one of the most beautiful women in filmdom, and had a beauty contest trophy to support it. At one point, she was named the most engaged girl in all of Chicago, as she was receiving proposals on nearly a daily basis. Unfortunately, in just a matter of years, Selig’s coquette (as she was once called) would be retired from the screen and largely bedridden.

Although she would always call St. Louis her home, Kroell was actually born December 13, 1892 in Chicago. Her father, Charles, was an electrical engineer originally from Germany. Her mother, May, was a Chicago native, and Adrienne was their first child. The family got their start in Chicago, but later moved to St. Louis, which is where Adrienne was educated. Although she believed she could succeed as a singer, her parents urged to become a teacher. “To please them, I took the normal exams, though I never intended to be a teacher. While going to high school I studied music, and the vacation after I was graduated I took up stenography, six weeks after I began the course, I had finished and obtained a position as secretary of the St. Louis Horticultural Society,” she later told an interviewer.

Adrienne Kroell in "The Wheels of Fate"

Of course, secretarial work was not her calling. She soon became involved with the St. Louis Suburban Stock Company, and performed with the company in the evenings while doing secretarial work during the day. It was around this time that she won the 1907 International Beauty Contest hosted by the St. Louis Republican. She was advised to go to Chicago to to try for a position in a musical, and went to try out for producer Mort Singer. When he told her his secretary had just quit and he was too busy to see her, she quickly offered her services as a secretary and was hired. She continued performing, and eventually left the position to take a role in the production “The Honeymoon Trail.”

From 1908 to 1910 she was involved in “musical comedies,” performing in productions like “A Stubborn Cinderella” and primarily identified herself as an actress in “comic opera.” That would all change that year when she made her real foray into the film world. Although she did a short with Selig Polyscope in 1909, she bounced between the big three Chicago studios -- Essanay, Selig and American Film Manufacturing (Flying A) -- before finally settling on Selig in 1911. She quickly became their leading lady and was dubbed the Selig coquette because of the roles she so often played. In 1912, she told the Toledo News that the image she portrayed onscreen was quite different from her real life persona, “I don’t know why I so often have to be THE girl,” she jokingly lamented, but no doubt there was some truth in what she said.

Adrienne Kroell in "The Golden Cloud"

Although the next few years saw her as a consistent and capable leading lady, and a clever and versatile actress, she got a taste of the ailment which would bring about her too-early retirement. At the end of 1913, Kroell was stricken with rheumatism, putting her out of commission for some time. In early 1914, she made her triumphant return to Selig as leading lady, boasting she had been completely restored to health. Unfortunately, her poor luck was just beginning.

In early 1915, she was involved in a train wreck near Homewood, Illinois. She only suffered a sprained ankle, but it was major news to the fan magazines. A few months later, her family would suffer a major blow. Charles Kroell died May 31, 1915, just a couple days short of his 52nd birthday, leaving Adrienne as the primary breadwinner for the family of six. In addition to her film work, she began to do theatrical engagements, including balls for the film industry, which allowed her to showcase her voice for the first time in a number of years. After embarking on a limited singing engagement at the Wilson Theater in December 1915, she left for the West Coast for a few months. Although no official reason was given, it’s reasonable to suspect that her arthritis was beginning to reappear.

Adrienne Kroell in "The Firefighter's Love"

By mid-1916 she had returned to Selig to appear in their production of “Two Orphans,” starring another Selig leading lady Kathlyn Williams. She faded from the spotlight for a time, again, only to reappear with Famous Players. She was only with them for a short time before she was again stricken with rheumatism. In April of 1917, the fan magazines reported she had been recovering for the past three months under the care of physicians from the Mayo Clinic. She had returned to St. Louis and expected to be able to re-enter the film world, but it didn’t last. By the end of 1917, she had retired from the screen.

By 1920, she was living with her mother and her sisters. When the census was taken for 1919, she didn’t claim any income or occupation. In fact, she and her mother were being supported by Kroell’s younger sisters who were working as bookkeepers and clerks in Chicago. In the years following, her mother died, and she relocated to San Diego to live with her sister Rosalie and brother-in-law Paul. In 1929, she listed her occupation as teacher of the dramatic arts, but it’s unclear how much teaching she was able to do. By 1939, she was basically bedridden due to her condition, and living with her sister’s family with no source of income.

It, no doubt, was a strain on Rosalie’s family life, but they made the best of it. Paul and Adrienne devised an apparatus that helped get her out of bed and into a chair so that she could sit up a few times a week for a short amount of time, but by 1942, she was back in Illinois and living in the Sturgis Convalescent Home in Evanston. In 1944, she made the news for the first time in nearly three decades. Ann Sturgis, the 17-year-old daughter of the nursing home's owner, befriended Kroell. When she got a role in her senior play, she rehearsed by Kroell’s bedside and sought her advice. When the night of the play came, Kroell, with the help of the nursing home attendants, made her way to the auditorium, on a stretcher via ambulance, to see young Ann perform. It was the first time in years that she had been outside in the fresh winter air, and the thrill of it and the play left quite an impression on her. “I feel so much better. It just made me young again, “ she told the Chicago Tribune.

It was her last public appearance. Five years later, Adrienne Kroell died on October 2, 1949 from complications from arthritis. She was 56.

Unfortunately, like many early independent studios of the early days of film, most of the works by the Selig Polyscope Company are gone, giving us few opportunities to appreciate the work that Kroell and her colleagues did. Once again, we’re left with an unsatisfying and incomplete picture of one of the great players of the early silent era, but Kroell’s story alone gives us a glimpse at the stunning star she once was.

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Richard Travers: The Man About Town

Richard Travers was once described by Motion Picture Classic as a doctor, soldier of fortune, warrior, and a man about town. A man known for his daring, his willingness to take all kinds of risks and enjoy them, and one of the best all-around athletes in all of filmdom. So...who was he?

Richard Campbell Tibb was born April 15, 1885 at the Hudson Bay Trading Post in Canada. He was the son of Scottish immigrants, and his father was among the first protestant missionaries in the Northern Territories. When he was just 15, he made his way into a company of British soldiers sent to South Africa during the Boer War (he had given his age as 21). Upon his return, he went to the U.S. (specifically Cornell University) to study medicine. He began practicing, quit, and then decided to pursue a career on the stage. He played in stock companies in the U.S. and Montreal, but shortly thereafter, Travers started making his way into film.

Richard Travers in "The Lightbearer"

In 1912, he joined the Lubin Company in Philadelphia. One of his first roles was that of a race car driver, and this theme of rugged, daredevil roles would follow Travers throughout most of his silent career. With his soulful eyes, engaging personality and rugged good looks, it wouldn't take long for Travers to find work as a leading man.

In May 1913, Travers was signed to Chicago's own Essanay. He was tapped to play romantic leads, and very quickly became a favorite in the studio and among fans. His first big hit for Essanay was "The Pay-As-You-Enter Man" and he quickly became an Essanay mainstay. He worked consistently, stationed at the Chicago branch, appearing in 3-reel comedies and other shorts. He played romantic leads, but continued to to perform daring, rugged and athletic roles, sometimes to his detriment.

Richard Travers in "The Fulfillment"

While filming "The Undertow" in November 1915, Travers was seriously injured when a stunt went awry. In an attempt to leap from one train car to another, Travers was temporarily blinded when the engineer's cap flew into his face. He missed grabbing the handle, fell onto the tracks, and narrowly missed getting run over by the car. Although he survived, he suffered an 8-inch gash on his arm, a badly injured kneecap, and several broken bones in his hand.

Richard Travers in "Seven Sealed Orders"

As he was recovering, he was stricken with Typhoid fever and rheumatism, but by early December, the magazines were reporting his return. He began composing a collection of his experiences as a film actor and then turned that collection into a 20-week vaudeville engagement. Travers traveled around the country, delivering monologues about film, accompanied by cartoons drawn by Wallace A. Carlson which depicted life at Essanay.

Even when he wasn't shooting, Travers kept himself busy. He formed baseball and hockey teams made up of Essanay players, and had a diamond and rink built on the studio grounds. He joined film clubs in Kansas, Chicago and New York in an effort to protect the industry from license and censorship legislation. And, like fellow Canadian Mary Pickford, he showed true American patriotism by appearing in films like "My Country, Tis of Thee" and giving inspirational speeches about the war.

Richard Travers in "Surgeon Warren's Ward"

This flurry of activity came to a standstill in early 1917, though, when he left Essanay, got married and went to New York in just a matter of weeks. His bride Lillian Cattell (formerly known as May Franklin) was actually his second wife. Months earlier, the papers reported he was seeking a divorce from the former Mrs. Travers who had refused to go with him to Philadelphia in the early days of his film career.

He soon signed with American Standard and Sunshine Film Co. for a special production that would list him as a co-director, but plans with any studio soon fell through as Travers got more and more involved in the war effort. In July, he was assigned a commission in the reserve army and began touring the country, encouraging enlistment. By September he had reported to Officers Camp in Fort Sheridan, and by December he was awarded a captaincy. It was revealed that his brothers had been deployed to France with the Canadian contingency and by the time he joined, at least one of them had been killed in action (reports vary as to when both brothers died). He spent two months in France and continued touring the country, drumming up support for the army, the Red Cross, and encouraging Liberty Bond sales. He received an honorable discharge in December 1918, but his film career did not pick up where it had left off.

Richard Travers in "The Green Ghost" (3rd from right)

He worked sporadically for the next few years, jumping from film company to film company, and running into legal trouble along the way. In 1920, he sued U.S. Photoplay to the tune of $7,500. He claimed he was owed back salary, but the company filed a countersuit saying he had failed to live up to his contract and had already been advanced $550. Although he settled into supporting roles through the '20s and made a handful of talkies, he ultimately retired from the screen in 1930, never achieving the level of fame or the legacy he probably deserved.

By 1930, his marriage appears to have dissolved, and on April 20, 1935, Travers died of pneumonia just five days after his 50th birthday.

Blanche Sweet and Richard Travers in "The Woman Racket"

Unfortunately, time hasn't been too kind Travers' body of work. With few exceptions, his films are either lost or largely unavailable. One of the films that has survived, and has actually made the jump to DVD, is "The Woman Racket" from 1930. It's one of Travers' final films, and it stars another silent veteran -- Blanche Sweet. Although it's difficult to confirm without viewing the films themselves, his silent onscreen personality sounds a lot like that of Douglas Fairbanks, making it even more unfortunate that such an engaging star has been buried by time. Why didn't his career continue to thrive? The rise of the studio system, his legal issues, the after-effects of war, the loss of his brothers, and his money issues all, undoubtedly, played roles in his ultimate downfall, but it's a shame that we can't better judge and appreciate his work today.

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Richard Headrick: The Little Minister

Little Richard Headrick’s golden curls and beyond-his-years acting ability began winning over filmmakers and just the age of 2. Although he quickly became a fan favorite and fan magazine darling, in just six years, he gave up the world of film for a greater cause.

Richard Throop Headrick was born April 19, 1917 to Edward and Hazel Headrick in Chico, California. The story does that little “Itchie” (as he called himself) took to swimming almost immediately, performing the backstroke at just 6 months old. By the age of 2, filmmakers began showing interest in him, largely due to his swimming ability, and he made his film debut in 1919 in “Should a Woman Tell?” He quickly found regular work as a juvenile actor and made a major name for himself at the age of 3, due to his performance in “The Woman in His House.” The production was a Mildred Harris vehicle (who was, at the time, married to Charlie Chaplin), but Headrick’s performance led him to be billed above Harris in several markets and theaters.

By the age of 5, fan magazines were enamored with him and his fellow child stars, including Baby Peggy (born in 1918) and Jackie Coogan (born in 1914). Picture Play even went so far as to declare “[t]he light of little Richard Headrick doubtless is destined for the earliest and longest shine in the cinematic heavens.” The public was just as curious about his life behind the scenes, and Picture Play undoubtedly put many mothers’ and fathers’ concerns to rest with a profile on Headrick, assuring fans that he was “unspoiled” and well taken care of. Headrick’s contract guaranteed he would get a nap every afternoon, filming schedules that wouldn’t interfere with his regular meals or sleep, and forbid him from spending extra time in the studio around older actors and executives when it wasn't necessary. His parents also ensured that he had plenty of time to play in his own backyard with the children in his neighborhood.

Headrick’s onscreen certainly life didn’t interfere with his other hobbies, either. He continued to swim, winning cups and medals from swimming and diving competitions, and he took up the violin and quickly showed incredible mastery of it. Indeed, at the age of 5, he was regarded as “the most talented player of his years and as a remarkable child athlete,” so when his next endeavor was announced, it was met with surprise.

At the age of 8 became an evangelist and began to hold revival meetings in the western states. Although Headrick’s new career wasn’t exactly a surprise (his parents were also evangelists), the fact that he took it up at such a young age was. As late as 1931, he was still listed as a juvenile film player, but he was better known as “The Boy Evangelist” and “The Little Minister” than “Itchie.” Local newspapers raved about his sermons, saying he was well spoken and that his sermons were instructive and helpful and inspired listeners to live more deeply Christian lives.

Richard Headrick in "Hearts Aflame"

He took up aviation at the age of 16, and reportedly became friends with Orville Wright. He would later use these skills when he enlisted in the Air Force during World War II.

Richard Headrick in "Rich Men's Wives"

Although he was in the limelight from an early age, Headrick would spend the rest of his life largely out of the spotlight, touring the country and giving sermons just as his parents had. He died on November 19, 2001 in Chico.

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Dorothy Dwan: The Accidental Westerner

By the time Dorothy Dwan was 23, she had been married twice, played leading lady to the likes of Larry Semon and Tom Mix, and faced her own father in court. She had a complicated and interesting life, yet she’s largely forgotten today, aside from the occasional mention of her performance as Dorothy in the 1925 version of “The Wizard of Oz.” Who was she and what became of her?

Dorothy Belle Ilgenfritz was born April 26, 1906 to Nancy and Melvin in Sedalia, Missouri (she later adopted the last name Dwan after the director Allan Dwan because she reportedly admired his work). Unfortunately her parents’ marriage was not a match made in heaven. The two frequently fought and separated on more than one occasion, spurring Nancy to move to California with little Dorothy in tow. By 1912 the pair had divorced. Nancy later remarried a Mr. Smith (Dorothy told fan magazines he was Lt. Col. George Hugh Smith from Pennsylvania) and found work as a publicist in the heart of Hollywood. Dwan later told fan magazines that she was discovered by her mother’s childhood friend who was then working for Universal. It’s unclear how much of the story is true (after all, Nancy herself was in the PR business and Dorothy would soon become something of a staple in the fan magazines’ gossip sections). But it could be this connection that launched Dwan into her film career and her mother into her publicity career.

Dwan had made her film debut by the age of 16, and by 18 she was appearing pretty regularly in features as well as shorts. Her career got a major boost, though, when she met one of the great silent clowns of the era -- Larry Semon.

Dorothy Dwan and Larry Semon

“Her Boy Friend” was released in September 1924 and was one of the first major projects the pair embarked on (it’s also notable that it featured another silent favorite Oliver Hardy, years before Hal Roach paired him up with Stan Laurel). Dwan quickly became Semon’s leading lady on-screen and off. By January 1925, the two had married and were working on their biggest project to date -- “The Wizard of Oz.”

Oliver Hardy, Dorothy Dwan, Larry Semon in "The Wizard of Oz"

A decade had passed since L. Frank Baum had launched and shuttered the Oz Film Manufacturing Co., and it had been several years since Baum himself had died. Although Baum’s endeavor proved to be unprofitable, fantasy films had become more accepted and recognized. In fact, just months before the release of “The Wizard of Oz,” Famous Players Lasky had released “Peter Pan” starring Betty Bronson in the titular role. “Peter Pan” had the author’s blessing and relied heavily on the original work for the storyline and dialogue. “The Wizard of Oz” did not. Although the characters were familiar, they were only used to tell a Larry Semon story in a Larry Semon movie, not the Oz stories Baum created. Fans of Baum were not exactly pleased.

Dorothy Dwan in "The Wizard of Oz"

The pair continued to put out shorts, but because Semon’s productions cost so much, he was losing money...even if the films were technically hits. While Semon struggled, Dwan consistently found roles alongside the likes of Ken Maynard and Tom Mix, transforming herself into one of the leading ladies of the western genre. At one point it was rumored that Semon would direct Harold Lloyd’s next picture, and that Dwan would play his leading lady, but neither came to fruition.

Instead, Semon soon found himself back in vaudeville and, by August of 1928, he had suffered a nervous breakdown. He would never recover. While he was in the sanitarium, Dwan went to live with her mother and closed the home they shared. Semon died on October 8, 1828, but there still seems to be some debate over his passing. Although he reportedly died from pneumonia, a newspaper article from 2010 suggests that his condition was more mysterious, saying Dwan wasn’t allowed to have contact with him and wasn’t allowed to attend the funeral service. His body was cremated, leading some conspirators to even suggest that he faked his own death to avoid his creditors.

Regardless of Semon’s demise, Dwan soon found herself a 22-year-old widow with the government demanding $4,000 in back taxes courtesy of her deceased husband. She was still facing hospital and funeral expenses from Semon’s illness and death, and Louella Parsons claimed that Dwan hadn’t earned more than $4,000 since Semon’s death. Of course, the couple had money trouble even before his death. Semon had owed $10,000 in back taxes and was only able to raise $6,000 towards it. And in February of 1928, Dwan sued her father for $7,500 he had promised to put toward her education more than a decade earlier. The court found in favor of Dwan, but it’s unknown whether or not her father was actually able to make good on the payments.

Dorothy Dwan and Larry Semon

Dwan continued to find steady work in silent pictures, and made a name for herself in westerns accidentally. “How did I happen to be typed as a western lead? Just one of those tricks of fate,” she told The St. Petersburg Times. “Today I am a well informed western leading lady, but the greatness was thrust upon me. I was not born that way.” Although she found steady work, she only made two talkies before deciding to retire, despite having a reportedly excellent talking test. In 1930, she married Paul N. Boggs Jr. (son of a Union Oil Company exec) and in 1931, she gave birth to Paul Boggs III. Although fans showed interest, and she remained close with her Hollywood friends, she held firm, saying she was devoting her time to her child and not interested in returning to the business. Unfortunately, in just a few years, the couple called it quits. By 1936, Dwan was working as a publicist alongside her mother. She later married a Mr. Fred Buckles, but that, too, ended in divorce.

Dorothy Dwan and Larry Semon

She died in 1981 of lung cancer.

By the time she retired, Dorothy Dwan had appeared in 40 films. Although some have reportedly been lost, like one of the two talkies she made, others have survived -- like her work with Larry Semon and Tom Mix.

You can watch TCM’s restored version of “The Wizard of Oz” below:



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Review: Ben Model's "Accidentally Preserved"

There's been a lot of discussion lately about the guarantees that come with pledging a Kickstarter campaign. While some campaigns have failed to live up to their intended end products, Ben Model's "Accidentally Preserved" more than lives up to the promise it made pledgers.

The DVD consists of nine rare and previously thought lost silent films, three of which were transferred from their only known prints. The films range in subject matter from light comedy, to animation, to industrial, and offer glances at lesser known and forgotten stars like Billy Franey, James Parrott and Cliff Bowes. In addition to comedies like "The Misfit" and "The Lost Laugh," there is a particularly beautifully preserved Max and Dave Fleischer Out of the Inkwell cartoon "The Mechanical Doll," and a 20+ minute industrial film entitled "The House of Wonders" that offers a behind-the-scenes look at the Elgin National Watch Company  circa 1931.

Clyde Cook in "The Misfit"

The films are interesting and entertaining in their own right, but the experience is made even more enjoyable by Model's newly composed musical accompaniment for each film, and the sharp, clear and stunning transfers of the films themselves. This is how silent film was meant to be seen -- crisp and clear as the day it was filmed. In the case of at least one of the films featured, this restoration and transfer came just in time. The one-reeler "Wedding Slips" featuring Monte Collins was already facing decomposition. Before the DVD went into production, the film's emulsion began to buckle and a transfer was made immediately before it could decompose any further. The transfer came from the only known print of "Wedding Slips" in existence, thus preserving the film (and the other eight shorts accompanying it) for generations of film fans to come. 

"Accidentally Preserved" will be officially released to non-Kickstarters on June 11 on Amazon. You can learn more about the DVD itself here, and more about the man behind it all, Ben Model, here.

The Mechanical Doll from "Accidentally Preserved"