Mary Pickford and "The New York Hat" (1912)

This is my contribution to the Mary Pickford Blogathon, honoring one of the world’s greatest movie stars and hosted by KC at Classic Movies. Click here for all of the entries about America’s Sweetheart.

Before Mary Pickford took the leap to feature films and pursued her stardom in earnest, she made one last film for D.w. Griffith at American Biograph called "The New York Hat," and it was one of her very best. Mary and Griffith had a productive, but contentious, relationship. From the very beginning in 1909, it was clear that Mary, in those early days of anonymous motion picture performers, had star quality. Alternately referred to as "The Girl With The Curls" and "The Biograph Girl" (after the first Biograph Girl, Florence Lawrence, had left Griffith for her own stardom), the public demanded to know her true identity. This did not sit well with Griffith, who liked to keep his actors working anonymously as an ensemble with the director as star. Nevertheless, they made 98 films in their on-again-off-again relationship of four years. After her final departure, it was said that Griffith needed two Gishes (Lillian and Dorothy) to take the place of one Pickford.

However he may have felt about her departure from the Biograph troupe, Griffith gave her a mighty send-off. Written by the budding giant, Anita Loos, “The New York Hat,” in just 16 minutes or so, manages to perfectly showcase the talent and appeal of Mary Pickford and to cover topics close to Griffith’s heart.

The story starts as Mary's mother lies dying. At her side are her husband, Mary and the minister (played by an incredibly young looking 34 year old Lionel Barrymore). While many of the players act in the grand manner of the earliest films (which feature the large gestures and facial expressions of the stage), Mary is always understated and natural. Her sobbing at her mother’s deathbed could have been filmed yesterday, it is that realistic. Unbeknownst to Mary’s father, the dying mother has left some money for her daughter and has entrusted it to the minister to buy for her the occasional frivolity that she knows the stern father will deny her.

Poor little Mary dreams of fancy finery, but is the poorest dressed girl in town. Griffith detested small-town and small-minded gossips and here he has a field day with the ladies of the town who eye her up and down and make fun of her shabby clothes. When a wildly expensive ($10) and fashionably flamboyant New York hat goes on display at the local millinery shop, it is coveted by all of the ladies, Mary included. The minister, who spies Mary's hungry glances at the hat, remembers her mother's dying wish. He decides to buy Mary the hat and make her dreams come true.

After staring longingly at the hat in the shop window, Mary goes home and dreams of the beautiful “village sensation.” Griffith knew her strengths and wisely shot her in medium frame. She uses her hair, her face, her hands and her body to tell the story, but it is with a casual charm rather than a ferocious intensity that would better be served by a close-up. When she wakes up, she is disappointed that it was only a dream, but her disappointment soon turns to excitement when, joy of joys, the hat is delivered to her home, courtesy of the minister.

Mary is such an artist that you can’t wait for her to wear her beautiful hat and show it off to the village peahens. Triumphantly, she wears it to church, but is met with jealousy and gossip. They had all seen the minister buy the hat. The fact that Mary is wearing it must mean that they are having an affair. Scandal ensues!!!!

As the gossip spreads faster than a rabbit on methamphetamine, Mary’s father gets wind of this and not only berates his daughter, but tears up her hat. Mary cries, not just for her reputation, but for the destruction of her beautiful bonnet. Such a girl! Mary skillfully plays this scene, breaking our hearts at her father's unjust accusation and making us smile,too, at her despair over his destruction of her beautiful hat.

While the self-righteous gossip brigade and Mary’s father descend upon the minister to condemn him, he whips out the dying trust of Mary’s mother:

My Beloved Pastor: My husband worked me to death, but I have managed to save a little sum. Take it, and from time to time buy my daughter the bits of finery she has always been denied. But tell no one.

Mollified, but unreformed, the gossips quickly disperse and Mary is left with the minister and her father. Apparently, the man of the cloth has been keeping more than a brotherly eye on the girl and whispers a proposal of marriage. If anyone thinks that Mary Pickford is an antique who just played little girls, this scene should dispel such notions.  At 20 years old, she artfully creates a girl who is becoming a woman with womanly charms. Filmed 100 years ago, Mary Pickford's performance is modern, immediate, fresh and natural.

As an aside, I was privileged to see Mary Pickford in "A Little Princess" on the big screen recently. By then, her persona of the little girl had been firmly fixed. Of course, she was magical, but it made me wonder what path her career would have taken if that little girl was allowed to blossom into a woman.


Mary Pickford's fame is legendary and lasting, but she is much more than a powerful businesswoman and a groundbreaking star. America's Sweetheart is a perfect artist in perfect command of her art.

"The New York Hat" is one of Mary Pickford's and D.W. Griffith's finest short films. Besides seeing these two fine artists do what they do best, enjoy an equally charming Lionel Barrymore (really, is this Mr. Potter?), and see if you can spot Lillian and Dorothy Gish, Jack Pickford, Mae Marsh, Robert Harron and Mack Sennet (all part of Griffith's stock company) in the background.