Merry Chistmas and a Happy New Year
from Jean and Me!!
|Busby Berkeley aged 75|
|Giesler (right) with Errol Flynn (centre)|
|Giesler with Charlie Chaplin|
|Busby Berkely arriving at the first trial brought in on a stretcher|
|Precode Party Antics|
|Lowell Sherman as playboy Bill Standish|
|Marie Prevost as Dot Lamar|
Respect for one’s elders, let alone one’s apparent future husband, is certainly not on the menu. He puts her on the back of his own horse so she can’t gallop away from him, and facing the horse’s tail in disgrace. Unfortunately for him that only makes matters worse when Harlequin, now known as Mr Thornby the cattle inspector, drives up behind them in a new-fangled open top car- this is a contemporary horse opera, set when it was made. Future marriage vows and engagements are of as little moment to Marge as respect, and she sets about shamelessly flirting with the handsome intruder until the horse gets spooked by the car and careers away at full speed to the Martin ranch. Marge Martin will arrive home decked out in all her cowgirl clobber from her big hat to her ornate boots, and halfway down a rather strange almost fetishy looking belt or corset cinching in her waist; the sexy trick rider has been displaying her curves and her charm in equal measure to her adoring circus-going public.
So from the start he has promised himself, and anyone else who cares to listen, that his precious daughter would be getting her bottom spanked just as soon as he caught her. And, given a certain amount of prevarication and further provocation from Beebe herself, she does. She is frogmarched into the house and put over the paternal knee. Pop is determined to carry out his promise and for a minute or two Marge Martin is made to squirm for her misdeeds. Clyde at last wears the pants as he gets to the bottom of his daughter’s misbehavior. Marjorie Beebe is in her element playing this uppity girl getting her comeuppance, but she has still has tricks to play as she works to bring her spanking to a premature conclusion. It’s a little war of attrition.
MARGE: But Pop I wanted a trousseau