Mabel normand

A few months ago, a couple of New Yorkers were standing on a rustic bridge in a Los Angeles park, chatting of the California climate and other things, when a murmur of shouts in the distance made them to look back among the trees at the end of the bridge. In a moment, something white appeared. Coming nearer, it proved to be a running man, clothed merely in a white night shirt, as far as they could judge. As he sprang, howling, upon the bridge, they recoiled with horror - for around his neck was a wriggling knot of rattlesnakes. With a final screech he vaulted over the rustic hand-rail of the bridge into the water-and disappeared.

One of the New Yorkers started to peel off his coat to jump in after the unfortunate man when the voice of a woman, crying, echoed among the trees. In a moment, the woman appeared, ran out on the bridge, and without a second’s hesitation, dived over the rail into the water after the man with the snakes. Again the New Yorker was about to dive after them when a drawling voice floated upward from behind a clump of bushes at the water’s edge:

“Put your coat on, Mister...She’ll have him out in no time - swims like a duck! (Great stuff Mabel!…We got the whole of it before the film ran out!)”

Then the bewildered New Yorkers saw the man and the woman swimming easily and with much laughter shoreward -- the knot of stuffed and very dead snakes in his hand. Running around to intercept the pair, the New Yorkers politely hoped they were all right -- and would have held them up with innumerable questions, but the young woman smilingly held up one dripping arm, pointed to the maid with a bath-robe and a rain coat in the approaching motor car and said:

“Too wet to say anything now. Come out to Alessandro Street this afternoon, if you’re interested.”

Now those two New Yorkers were unique among their species. They did not only not recognize the young woman at a glance, but even her name was unfamiliar to them when they confessed the astonishing fact that they had never seen more than two or three photo-plays in all their benighted lives.

To fifteen or twenty million people in the United States and Canada, however, both name and face are undoubtedly well known. For Mabel Normand is one of the most popular woman on the motion-picture stage, today -- and is recognized whenever she appears upon the screens. For some time, she was known as a Vitagraph and then a Biograph favorite. When the Keystone Company was formed, she was taken over with Mack Sennett, Fred Mace and Ford Sterling from the Biograph. Then Mack Sennett was made managing director of the company, in the Los Angeles studio, and began developing his idea of producing farce comedies without the aid of a scenario. Just how he gets his results by such methods is something of a mystery -- but he has made Keystone comedies known, and Mable Normand goes with Keystone comedies, wherever you see them -- usually, with the ever-amusing “Fatty.”

Miss Normand is one of the swimming champions of the Pacific Coast, an expert horsewoman, athletic, and fond of all outdoor sports to a degree which permits of her being thrown or dragged about in some of the more strenuous comedy work in a way that would put most women in the hospital. And her pantomimic acting can only be described as something inimitable.
* from Moving Picture World, July 1, 1914

Mabel Normand, Key To Many Laughs In Keystone Comedies

“Deliver us, O Lord, from the woman who attempts comedy,” is a prayer quite commonly uttered by those who sit in judgment on the performances of those who earn their livelihood by entertain­ing the public. The reviewer’s contention is that if there has been granted the gentler sex the saving sense of humor the proof of it is not frequently given in the amusement field. In support of the contention it will be pointed out that the women of the stage who fun-making efforts are not pitiful to behold can almost be numbered on the fingers of one hand.

It is to the credit of the women, who have directed their attention to the photoplay within the past few years that among them are found numerous exceptions to the rule which these cap­tious critics imply, and notable among these women is Miss Mabel Normand, regularly appearing in Keystone comedies and known wherever “the movies” thrive, whether it be in Nome, Alaska, or Cape Town, South Africa.

Miss Normand’s initial appearance before the camera was as a member of the Vitagraph forces. Thence she went to the Biograph Company, where she was thrown into contact with Mack Sennett, than whom there is no more favorably known director of comedy pictures at the present time. In these two engagements it was clearly established that here, indeed, was a woman with a sense of humor, and when Mr. Sennett undertook the formation of the Keystone Company, Miss Normand was invited to fill the position of leading woman with the organization which has since become so justly popular with that large percentage of moving picture fans who crown comedy on the screen as king of all the styles of photoplay entertainment.

Soon after the establishment of the Keystone studios at Edendale, near Los Angeles, Cal., under the direction of Mr. Sennett, Miss Normand’s development as a premier screen come­dienne was begun.

The Keystone comedies captivated the public from the start for the reason that it once became apparent that they had a style and character all their own. Mr. Sennett’s fertile brain created one novel plot after another, each more fantastic and excruciat­ingly funny than the last. And Miss Normand, always original and full of clever inventions in make-up and stage business, collabo­rated with him to make the releases the huge success they have proved to be.

In those early Keystone days, as now, Mr. Sennett and Miss Normand were supported by players selected with the greatest care with regard to their fitness for comedy work. Performances were of uniform excellence with high lights here and there, but “Key­stone’s Mabel’s” extraordinary ability is attested by the fact that she easily outstripped all of her sisters in the company and became as great a screen favorite as some of the male members who have been recruited from the regular theatrical ranks after having established themselves as specialists in comedy.

Miss Normand’s power is due, in large measure, to her ex­traordinary ability in facial expressions. It seems to make but little difference what kind of a character she is called upon to impersonate -- she is never at a loss to create a type. Her versa­tility and daring, her compelling type of beauty, and, most of all, her sympathetic understanding of what the average man or woman regards as humorous, have made Miss Normand one of the most fascinating of actresses, either in pictures or the legitimate stage. In private life she is just the energetic, enthusiastic, fun-loving girl that she typifies each time she appears on screen. She rides like a Centaur, swims like a fish, and, with muscles as strong and springy as cold-rolled steel, is well qualified to hold up her end in any of the Keystone stories, which are noted in their strenuous action. Some of her best work which Miss Normand has ever done has been opposite Mr. Sennett, and that she is destined to add greatly to her reputation is assured by the announcement made not long ago that Mr. Sennett himself is to resume his roles before the camera, serving both as director and actor.

That Mr. Sennett is to appear in comedy releases of his own direction is the result of a strong popular demand voiced by moving picture fans who remember his splendid work of other days. While Miss Normand’s art is absolute, there has always seemed to exist between her and Mr. Sennett a more perfect artistic under­standing than has ever been noticeable between her and any other playing associate. This perfect understanding makes for perfect pictures.
* from Reel Life, July 4, 1914

Mabel Normand, the strikingly beautiful Keystone comedienne, is a young woman who works with all her might and main, and is distinguished also by her capacity for making the finest sort of friends. Not long ago, Nina Wilcox Putnam--leader of the movement among American women to emancipate their sex from slavish imitation of Paris fashions and to form an independent wing who shall stand for originality in dress--became much interested in Miss Normand’s work.

She invited Inez Haynes Gillmore, the writer, whose home is in San Francisco, to go with her to the Keystone studios to meet Miss Normand. There they had the good fortune to be allowed to witness a photo comedy play in production. It is seldom that Mack Sennett admits visitors to the stage. He made an exception, however, in the case of these two distinguished women, who had made the journey to Los Angeles out of sheer interest in the leading woman of his company.

Both were even more delighted with Miss Normand in real life than one the screen. They were astonished at the amount of slap-bank, rough and tumble action she was able to put into the piece, while still impressing one with the fact the she is a young woman of natural dignity, refinement and charming manners. Their visit to the studios has resulted in a warm friendship between them and Miss Normand.

* from Pictures and Picturegoer, August 8, 1914

Myself--By The Sea-Side! A Seasonable Article Written Exclusively For This Journal

by Mabel Normand, The Famous Keystone Comedienne

I have been asked to write about myself, and also about the seaside. Fancy that! Well, it is really very nice of you to want me to write about myself and about my experiences in the land of films and cameras, but I really feel much more like the seaside at the moment. I feel like being lazy, too, and not writing anything about anything!

You see I am writing this on the sands. No; I won’t tell you where, if you don’t mind, because I’m having a very quiet holiday.

Yes, I am writing this on the sands, and it’s difficult work, apart from the fact that I do not find it particularly easy to talk so much about myself -- I’d hate you to think me conceited, so you won’t, will you? Apart from that, I am trying to keep the writing-pad on my knee, the sun from my eyes, and the sheets of paper from blowing away out to sea. No; it’s not easy. A moment ago a sweet little boy in a blue striped bathing-costume came up and threw a spadeful of sand in my lap--all over this article it went! Such fun! I nearly gave up the idea of writing it in despair, and decided to spend the rest of the time in playing with the little boy. He’s such a dear, and I haven’t been introduced to him yet either! Still, that doesn’t matter at the seaside, does it? I simply adore building sand-castles!

Still, my friends all over the world are all so very kind to me that I feel I must give just a little of my time to writing this, especially as the Editor asked for it so nicely.

But what shall I say about myself and about the sea-side? How shall I begin?

I shall be reduced to talking about the weather in a moment, I know I shall.

But even the weather would be a “brilliant” subject to discuss today. Do you note the pun?

You see, the sun is blazing down, the sky is of that tinge of blue that you can’t look at without blinking your eyes, and the sea is--well, just divine!--sparkling and flashing all colours in the sunlight. I’m longing to thrown myself in the waves and have a jolly good swim. I’m going to, too, when I’ve finished writing to you. After my swim I shall have a sun-bath--I love a sun-bath! Don’t you?

By the way, talking about the sea--we were, weren’t we?--and writing this on the edge of the sea, has just reminded me of an adventure I had IN the sea. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant adventure either. Still, they tell me that all you dear picturegoers love to hear about players’ experiences, so I’ll tell you this one. Don’t get bored now, will you? You promise?

First, you must know that I have won several prizes for swimming and high-diving at various aquatic exhibitions. I look a swimmess--or should it be -ist?--from the photograph I’m sending you, don’t I? I had it taken on these very sands yesterday morning--well, as I was saying, luckily for me I really can take care of myself in the water. Even so, my friends, this fact did not prevent me having an unusually thrilling sea adventure whilst acting in a Keystone comedy that was called “Lizzie’s Sacrifice.” I shall never forget that title, for, although my name is not Lizzie (for which Heaven be praised), I was very nearly the “sacrifice” all right! Yes!

The play--one of the usual Keystone burlesques, of course, in which I played with Mr. Ford Sterling, who has, as you know, now left us--was really good fun. I DID enjoy myself, for I love the sea so much, until what I’m going to tell you about happened. (“Well, for goodness’ sake, get on with in, Miss Normand.”) Very well, don’t get huffy. You can’t expect me to write calmly and coldly on such a glorious morning, can you?--especially as I’m sitting here almost covered with sand and longing to be in the sea.

(“Are you going to tell us this adventure or not, Miss Normand?”)

My dear reader, if I promise faithfully that I WILL tell it, will you shut--I should say, will you keep quiet?

(“It’s all very well, but—”)

I know it’s all very well, and look what a lot of type you’re wasting arguing like this!

Now in “Lizzie’s Sacrifice” I was the heroine, and I was always being persecuted unmercifully by the great ugly villain, who carried a horrid revolver and wore a perfectly ridiculous little black beard. Of course, my real lover made gallant efforts to save me all this time. But I couldn’t get away from that obnoxious villain with his nasty-smelling cigar.

One day I was supposed to have wandered down to the sea-shore at a lonely spot, rapt, enraptured, and wrapt in meditations maidenly--you know, like a penny novelette heroine. But the rapt raptures in which I was enwrapt were rudely dispelled by the sudden advent of the ugly villain, who had followed me down to the lonely sea-shore. (Aren’t we getting on with this story nicely?)

Once more he pleaded his love with bended knee on the wetness of the sands. Once again I spurned him--you know, in the usual way that heroines spurn villains. Then he voiced a VEARFUL [sic] vengeance! He cried to the camera that he would tie me fast to a rock, and watch the tide creeping slowly up, up, up, up (you know how tides creep) until it smothered me and I was drowned--killed by a horrible drown! I pleaded, I prayed, I swore (in a ladylike way), but still my pleadings were of no avail. He was adamant--and several other things as well. So at low tied he hauled me down to the rock and tied me there with ropes--thick r-ropes in r-revenge! And with the tying of the ropes the scene was ended, the camera stopped clicking, and we all went to lunch. I sat next to the villain.

At high tide we all went down to the rock again, and, getting into a boat, I was rowed out and again tied to the rock. Then the camera started again, and all the time the big waves were dashing over me. I was blinded by them, and could scarcely breathe. Whenever I tried to draw breath I was choked with more than a mouthful of nasty salt sea-water. (Note for young students: Sea-water is salt, and is not good to drink.)

I had only a bathing-costume on under my thin summer frock, and I soon began to feel jolly cold--also wet. But the scene had to be taken, and the villain gloated until the hero and the Keystone police rushed up and struggled with him. All this time, remember, the sea had been dashing over my head, and the waves were getting bigger and bigger, until I was off my feet and only held upright by the ropes round my waist and arms.

Suddenly, without so much as an apology, a huge wave lashed the rock and me with awful force, and to my horror I found myself being swept away in the backwash. The ropes had broken--all but the one that bound my arms! I was practically helpless in the rough sea. I struck out desperately with my feet, and then a big wave picked me up and I was dashed back against the rock and lost consciousness. When I came to my senses I was lying on the sand surrounded by my anxious fellow-players, and they were trying to get me to swallow brandy. My head and body were covered with cuts and nasty bruises. If they hadn’t dragged me in just when they did, I should have been washed back by the next wave and drowned without a doubt.

So, you see, even our screaming comedies have their dangers. Although I joke about it now, it wasn’t very funny when it happened, believe me.

Now, having, as I promised, related that adventure, I’ll say good-bye (in this article, at least), and wish you all as jolly a holiday as I’m having. I’m just going to collect all these scattered pages, put them in an envelope addressed to the Editor (with a little letter I’ve written to him), and send the whole lot to the post, and then--well, my friends, then I’m going to get into the costume you see me wearing in the portrait and have a ripping swim. After that--to lunch.

MABEL NORMAND.

Miss Mabel Normand, of the Keystone companies, is learning aviation from Walter Brookin, the permanent Keystone aviator, and has made three flights alone, driving the machine herself. Miss Normand hopes to soon be able to do the loop, when a motion picture will be made.

* from Motion Picture News, August 15, 1914

Despite an article that recently appeared that Miss Mabel Normand, the Keystone comedy star, was married off to the director general of that company without her knowledge or consent, Miss Normand wishes to emphatically state that not a wedding bell in the whole city of Los Angeles or any other city ever struck a note in her behalf.

Mabel Normand has purchased a Cyclecar and has painted her name in big red letters all over it.

During the absence of Thomas Ince and Mack Sennett, Reginald Barker has been in charge of the Kay Bee, Broncho and Domino Companies and Roscoe Arbuckle and Mabel Normand have been directing the Keystone players.

Mabel Normand, Keystone star, won the first prize for best waltzer of the hesitation variety at the Vernon Country Club last week.

Not content with an aeroplane and a Mercer racer, Mabel Normand has entered the amateur field, having purchased the seven horsepower cyclecar made by Shirley Williams, age 16 years, with which he won third place in the Vanderbilt, Jr., races at Ascot Park, Los Angeles, July 4th, making the fifty miles in one hour and six minutes. The cyclecar has a speed of fifty-five miles an hour.

Miss Normand has had the little racer finished in an elegant manner at one of the local garages, and for the next two months the young driver and maker of the car will use it, in giving exhibition mile runs at fairs and amateur race meets, the largest one he will attend being that at Tacoma, Wash., on Labor Day, when there will be a purse of $750 and three cups for the two fifty-mile races.

[A photo of Mabel Normand in her racer can be seen in the Motion Picture News, Sept. 12, 1914, page 58.]

Mabel Normand, of the Keystone, is learning aviation from Walter Brookin, the permanent Keystone aviator, and has made three flights alone, driving the machine herself. Miss Normand hopes to soon be able to do the loop, when a motion picture will be made.

Poor little Mabel Normand wants to take a trip “back home” to New York, she confided to us one Saturday afternoon. “I’ve been out here ever since the Keystone started, and they won’t let me go at all,” she says, and that is two years ago. Mabel is busy directing her own company and is putting on some real good comedy.

Our friend Mabel, her last name is too well known, won a loving cup at the Vernon country club dansant last week. She is quite a dancer of the late[est?] steps, and is a popular young lady when it comes to terpsichorean execution.

Mabel Normand, Fatty Arbuckle, Charles Chaplin, Mack Sennett and all the other famous Keystone players in one picture! The picture, directed by Mack Sennett! One of the funniest things that ever has been seen on the screen! This is what is promised in “The Sea Nymphs,” the first of the special two-a-month two-reel Keystone-Mutual comedies. It will be released in about a month. The picture was made at Santa Catalina Island, and it combines all the funny effects of the Mabel series and the other Keystone pictures. But it goes farther than that, because it has some brand new ideas in it. Those who have been privileged to see it say that it is the greatest scream of that brand. Patrons of the Keystone-Mutual pictures will know what this means. the play revolves around the escape of Mabel Normand and Fatty Arbuckle with “Big Ben,” Miss Normand’s pet seal.

* Moving Picture World, October 31, 1914

“Keystone Mabel” Normand, the renowned Keystone comedian, has been spending her vacation in New York and, needless to say, she is having the time of her young life. Being well-known in New York, previous to her going to the Coast where she has been for two and a half years, all her old friends have been waiting for this vacation and she has been wined and dined incessantly.
* from New York Morning Telegraph, November 9, 1914

The Photoplayers held their first annual gambol at the Mason Friday and Saturday nights, and there was a collection of stars and near-stars, behind and before the footlights, that would have made the most blasé press agent weep for joy.

Everybody in filmland was there, and the lobby was a veritable florist shop, while eager men sought to buy candy, flowers and programmes from the host of leading ladies and ingénues that seemed nearly unable to supply the demand. Film heroes and heroines stepped from the portrait frames with a cordiality that gave the whole affair an informal touch and made it such a splendid success. Miss Laura Oakley, Chief of Police of Universal City, kept the enormous crowd moving in the already packed theatre.

The audience was nearly as interesting as the show itself. It included Isadore Bernstein, Mayor of Universal City; Mabel Van Buren, Beatrice Van, Vera Sisson, Anna Little, Dorothy Davenport,¹²¹ Bessie Eyton, Edith Johnson, Elsie Greeson, Enid Markey, Leona Hutton, Stella Razeto, the Gish sisters, Cleo Madison, Grace Cunard, Mabel Normand, Carlyle Blackwell, Billy Stowell, George Periolot, Donald Crisp, Bobby Harron, William Clifford, Herbert Rawlinson, James Singleton, Wallace Reid, J. Warren Kerrigan, Harry Carter, Tom Mix, Sidney Smith, Cortenay Foote and D. W. Griffith. There were many others in evening dress making the rounds of the boxes greeting friends and admirers.

Tom Wilson opened the song programme with original parodies that held the audience from the start. His appearance in blackface was a disappointment, as every one wanted to see him as he appeared on the screen.

In excellent voice and with a choice collection of semi-classical songs, Myrtle Stedman of Bosworth, Inc., earned the plaudits of the audience.

Then came Ben Deeley with his famous “Good Old Common Sense” song, and scored a hit. He was called to give an encore, and sang his latest popular success, “My Heart’s Way Out in California,” which he put over in a fashion that finally forced him to make a short speech, which was a gem in itself.

“Discovered,” a short sketch, featuring Kathlyn Williams and a group of Selig Players, was replete with tense situations, and the comedy climax surprised and delighted every one. Miss Williams was ably assisted by Guy Oliver, Wheeler Oakman, Charles Clary, and Jack McDonald. The act was superb, every one scored a personal success. Mr. Clary, as the friend, and Mr. Oakman, as the husband, were especially good, easily maintaining their reputations behind the footlights that they have gained before the camera.

Max Asher with a patter act assisted by a pack of cards, showed a dexterity with the pasteboards that won him instant favor. In faultless evening clothes and grand opera voice, Wm. Worthington rendered operatic selections to good advantage.

George Cohan‘s first sketch, with its laughable lines, was offered with great success by Filson & Errol, who gave it the first production, and from the way the house enjoyed it proved that it has not outgrown popularity. “The Tip on the Derby” was very good.

After the intermission Ruth Roland, assisted by Harry McCoy¹²² at the piano, proceeded to stop the show, the audience not being satisfied till the supes brought the piano back and the pair sang another song. Miss Roland left nothing to be desired either in her singing or her gowns, and the patter of the act brought one continuous roar of laughter.

Charley Murray, of Murray & Mack, offered a monologue up to his usual standard, and was given a big hand.

“The Sheriff of the Shasta,” that Theodore Roberts made famous, was offered with a cast that made the sketch far superior to its presentation in vaudeville. Mr. Roberts is always good and, as the sheriff, he was a delight. Miss Smythe, the only one of the original case, was equal to bearing the only female role of the piece, and her scenes with Mr. Roberts were in her usual inimitable manner. Murdock McQuarrie, as the jealous husband, and Hobart Bosworth, as the acrobat, played these parts as only such actors of sterling quality are able.

Lydia Yeamans Titus, with songs and character studies, fully contributed to the enjoyment of the affair.

The Oz Film Company presented Violet McMillan, Frank Moore and Fred Woodward. Miss McMillan has often been compared to a doll and, as she dances like a sprite, her success was always assured. Woodward and Moore were great, and “Hank” is a favorite wherever he goes. This trio presented one of the cleverest acts on the programme, while one of the best dancing teams in vaudeville closed a show that will be always be remembered and a credit to the photo-players.
* from Motography, November 14, 1914