Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Mary Pickford Rediscovered by Kevin Brownlow Mary Pickford Rediscovered by Kevin Brownlow. "Mary Pickford Rediscovered: Rare Pictures of a Hollywood Legend" by Kevin Brownlow (Henry N. Abrams, Inc., 1999, 256 pages.) Anytime a Kevin Brownlow book is published, there's a "buzz" among silent film enthusiasts, and there's plenty of reason for it with this new book. First of all, it's a beautiful book - 9 1/4" x 12", slick, glossy, high quality paper, and photographs reproduced in the same high quality manner as they were in Hollywood, The Pioneers . The contents - a brief forward by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences - a lengthy introduction (about 16 pages) by Robert Cushman who is curator of the Academy's photographic stills archive - How the Mary Pickford Collection Came to the Academy Library by Cushman - The Search for Mary Pickford by Brownlow which is an absorbing personal account of his early experiences in "finding" Mary Pickford - and finally something silent film collectors have needed for a long time. . . a film by film rundown with commentaries, and who better to do those commentaries than Brownlow. Don't be mislead by the title - this is NOT just a picture book. Yes, it has 232 pictures, but it also has plenty of great text, too. This book is everything a Mary Pickford fan could want and certainly won't disappoint. Rediscovered Lost Girl of the Week: Presenting Mary Pickford. Kevin Brownlow was a guest at the University of Antwerp last week. He gave a charming and inspiring talk about his career in silent film at Cinema Zuid. Brownlow’s tireless efforts to encourage students to discover the excitement and wonder of silent cinema reminded me of one of my most cherished books by the British film historian: Mary Pickford Rediscovered , his homage to the first queen of the silent screen. Leafing through the book once more, got me to think about Mary Pickford’s career both in silent film and in film history in general. Everyone who has seen Neil Jordan’s Interview with the Vampire (1994) probably remembers the scene in which infant vampire Claudia (Kirsten Dunst) tries to cut off her curls in an effort to shed her doll-like features. If you do, you’ll also remember Claudia’s devastation to discover that the curls grow immediately back, that she cannot escape her looks of innocence and youth, which are rather ill-suited to her vampire personality. Mary Pickford probably would have wished the same thing to happen to her curls after the cutting of her own doll-like curls in the late twenties turned out to precipitate the end of her illustrious career. Like Claudia, Pickford felt that the curls were a burden to her as a performer and that they truncated her real abilities as an actress. Yet, despite the curls being gone audiences could not quite forget about them. They were gone but not forgotten and the bobbed Pickford no longer seemed to match anyone’s expectations or desire. (Husband Douglas Fairbanks is reported to have burst into tears. Pickford, curiously, felt both frightened by and enjoyed his response.) Yet, the curl-cutting/curl-growing scene from Jordan’s picture fits Pickford’s case for another reason as well, for it appears that the legacy and reputation of Mary Pickford, once America’s and the World’s Sweetheart and Hollywood’s most powerful woman (person, really), is likewise bothered (cursed?) by an excess of ever-returning ‘curls.’ In Pickford’s case, the ‘curls’ represent a convolution of associations, stories, images and clichés about the actress, which work to obfuscate our impression of the quite multi-facetted Mary. The (capitalized) Curls stand for our notion of Pickford as a child-impersonator, as an icon of the sentimental sob story, as an ideal of womanhood très passé . In response to this, various historians, archivists and connoisseurs have tried to disclose Pickford to the world, metaphorically cutting of the ‘curls’ to reveal a subtler, more complex portrait of the actress. They have tried hard for us to rediscover Pickford as she once was to the world. But the Curls have proven quite obstinate, as we will see. The first to discover Pickford was David Belasco, a theatre impresario who was nicknamed ‘the Bishop of Broadway.’ Belasco had had the honour of finding an angelic yet insistent little girl named Gladys Smith showing up in his office one day. As the story goes, eagerly repeated by the Broadway producer himself in a 1915 Photoplay article, Belasco immediately spotted her talent (and ambition) and engaged her for his successful plays (some stories add that it was he that rechristened her ‘Mary Pickford.’) Pickford was discovered anew when she moved from stage to screen, where she worked for D.W. Griffith at American Mutoscope & Biograph. Her recognizable curls and quality of restrained acting were quickly noted by audiences and critics and she became a favourite first and later a true star, moving on to become America’s sweetheart and the queen of the movies in the course of the teens. By 1920 she was married to Hollywood’s favourite hunk – Fairbanks – and had started her own independent company – United Artists. Yet, as it would turn out, Belasco’s, Griffith’s and the world’s discovery almost became one of the lost souls of the silent screen, for already in the early thirties movie audiences and critics started to wonder what ever they had seen in her. And since her films were not available for renewed acquaintance they had no way to find out. Book cover of ‘Mary Pickford Rediscovered’ by Kevin Brownlow (1999) In 1999, Kevin Brownlow published Mary Pickford Rediscovered , a beautiful, lush collection of impossibly gorgeous photographs of a woman whose face had once been among the most recognizable in the world, accompanied by an insightful and generous reappraisal of her career. The book featured pictures ranging from behind the scenes production stills to personal photographs (often taken by the best still photographers of the day). Brownlow’s title made the breadth of his ambitions clear: to offer the chance to rediscover both the quality, versatility and importance of the star and her films. The book also served to revive the photographs themselves, which had been saved – painstakingly, suspensefully so – from a fate of untraceable dispersion and perhaps oblivion by the efforts of several film historians and archivists. (Among them the late Robert Cushman, archivist at Margaret Herrick Library, Joseph Yranski, David Sheppard and Brownlow himself.) A fascinating account of how much of the Pickford memorabilia almost did not make it to the Library of the Academy of Arts and Sciences can be found here. Still one wonders why a woman like Pickford needed to be ‘rediscovered’ at all. Surely, I am not questioning Brownlow’s judgment here: Pickford indeed was in dire need of a rediscovery, but what I do wonder about is how she had become forgotten (and misunderstood) in the first place? And how she was overlooked for such a long time, even by, as Molly Haskell points out in her introduction to the most recent reappraisal of Pickford (Christel Schmidt’s Mary Pickford Queen of the Movies ), ‘the staunch cinéphiles and feminists of the 70s’? If we look at those of Pickford’s contemporaries who can be said to have held similar positions of importance, relevance, fame, or popularity in their days, we find that Chaplin for example was never in want of (renewed) attention. Nor Keaton. Surely, Greta Garbo is not forgotten. Even Lillian Gish, the steely blonde muse of Griffith’s, is not quite forgotten (neither is Griffith for that matter). So why did it almost happen to Mary? Even if we disagree about the historical or aesthetic significance, cultural legacy or cinephiliac resonance of these individual personalities, no one would deny that Pickford’s achievements (from her role in the formation of the star system, her contributions to a new standard for modern film acting to the cofounding of United Artists) are beyond forgetting or overlooking, and thus demand to be rediscovered and written about. But let’s note that the term ‘rediscovery’ implies an explanation of what made her so important (even though that would seem to be quite obvious) and usually a rediscovery includes some sort of an apology for liking her. Brownlow for example acknowledges that Pickford is hard to sell to those who know her from her most popular films like The Poor Little Rich Girl or Little Annie Rooney (for an example, he cites his wife who also dislikes John Ford’s Irish films). Film scholar Gaylyn Studlar, in her essay on Pickford, ties the actress to a cultural gaze that to modern viewers can only be described as ‘paedophilic,’ reflecting unsettling and suspect sexual desires and uncomfortable notions of ‘ideal’ womanhood. So for reasons personal or cultural, we could have our reasons to be squeamish of this woman, but are they warranted? Jeanine Basinger, whose Silent Stars (also from 1999) celebrates ‘a group of silent stars who are somehow forgotten, misunderstood or underappreciated,’ placed Pickford at the front. (But the cover went to Pola Negri.) The other rediscovered stars in the book, among which are the Talmadge sisters, Mabel Normand, Gloria Swanson and Negri, and Rin-Tin-Tin, were not of the stature of Pickford (Douglas Fairbanks who also features excepted I guess,), and it is odd to find Pickford in the line-up at all, as Basinger acknowledges. Yet she was selected, Basinger tells us, because it is rather ‘ironic that the biggest female star in history ends up being the most misunderstood.’ And here ‘misunderstood’ surely also implies a certain dislike. Basinger’s book is the work of a cinephile, guided but not biased by personal taste and amusement, curiosity, and enchantment. It is also excellent scholarship and a great read and it argues quite forcibly that there is a lot to like about the golden curled icon. There had been previous attempts to rediscover Pickford of course. Two passionate texts on Pickford immediately come to mind, texts that tried to save Pickford from oblivion or from the well-worn stories about her (child impersonator! Sentimental! No friend of Charlie’s!). One was by Edward Wagenknecht (a chapter in his nostalgic Movies in the Age of Innocence from1962 recalling his childhood at the silent movies, an endeavour that to the author feels like ‘living my life over again’) and the other by James Card (in Image in 1959). It’s clear that Wagenknecht and especially Card tried to salvage Pickford from the maelstrom of oblivion and underappreciation that was to befall her (in part perhaps self-inflicted because she made the availability of good prints or her films rather rare). James Card cites Iris Barry who asserted in 1926 that: ‘The two greatest names in the cinema are, I beg to reiterate, Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin . . . theirs are the greatest names in the cinema and from an historical point of view they always will be great.’ Yet, in the years that followed Barry’s assertion, Pickford’s status would change radically. Just four years later Paul Rotha already disparaged: ‘As of Mrs. Douglas Fairbanks I find difficulty in writing, for there is a consciousness of vagueness, an indefinable emotion as to her precise degree of accomplishment.’ Reducing Pickford to Mrs. Fairbanks… well, it was the first step in forgetting about her and her achievements. James Card’s text focuses on the films as he tries to convince the sceptics to actually look at the films instead on being put off by vague reminiscences or blatant misconceptions. Card realizes that although Pickford has not been exactly omitted in critics’ or historians’ texts and overviews, most of them are unfamiliar with her films, which leads to further uninformed representation. Card complains: ‘Either out of some respect for Miss Pickford’s unassailable position as one of the cinema greats, or out of praise-worthy caution in view of their not having seen her films, many writers only circuitously imply that the Pickford performances were the epitome of saccharine banality, sweetness and light and all permeated with the philosophy of Pollyanna.’ But further implication was all her shaky reputation needed and Card was adamant to solve this in the best way he saw fit: by showing her films repeatedly to audiences of the Dryden Theatre of Eastman House. ‘The best part of the rediscovery of the Pickford films is that the measure of their greatness does not depend upon the isolated opinions of a few connoisseurs nor, worse, upon the cherished preciousness of the cultist’s infatuation,‘ he notes. So, thanks to Card’s efforts, the people in Rochester rediscovered Pickford for themselves in the early sixties. But what about the rest of the world? Some of them may have rediscovered Pickford through Edward Wagenknecht’s beautiful evocation in his evocative and nostalgic Movies in the Age of Innocence (1962). Like, certain critics (Rotha for example), Wagenknecht also admits to a certain ‘difficulty’ in writing about her (‘her films encourage, and submit to, little analysis’) but he does not imply this is the result of questionable accomplishment as others did. Instead he places her firmly in an ‘age of innocence,’ pointing out that Pickford’s films and her role in them invite an enthrallment and strong emotional appeal that despite being difficult to put into words are valuable and significant. If anything, Wagenknecht would have put the blame with himself for his inability to praise and appraise her adequately. At the time of Pickford’s death in 1971, she was eulogized and discussed quite aptly by Andrew Sarris (who stressed her working class appeal), but she was also covered (uncovered) quite subtly by Alexander Walker, who realized like Card before him that the best way to deal with Pickford was not by relying on fans’ memories but by actually looking at her films. If anything, the fond reminiscences of her fans would likely impress the Pickford neophyte (unfamiliar with the movies themselves) with that unwelcome idea of saccharine sentimentality that made her so suspect to modern tastes. In the nineties, Pickford’s extraordinary life was done justice with two excellent biographies, one by Scott Eyman in 1990 and the other by Eileen Whitfield (1997), and Pickford featured prominently in Carrie Beauchamp’s biography of scenario writer Frances Marion, who wrote at least thirteen scripts for Pickford in the second half of the teens. These books were an excellent addition to Pickford’s own disappointing (too short) biography Sunshine and Shadow (1955) and a thin booklet by Robert Windeler (1975). Christel Schmidt has edited the most recent book on Pickford, which again explains its relevance by pointing to the ways in which the star is still greatly misunderstood and misrepresented, and to the limited scholarship devoted to her. The book sheds light on Pickford’s many activities, qualities, and charms, and includes a focus on both well-trodden paths (her child impersonations, the curls, her marriage) as well as on areas that have received little attention (her costumes, Pickford’s relation to race). Schmidt’s own research is supported by work from Pickford biographer Eileen Whitfield, Kevin Brownlow, and reprints from Edward Wagenknecht and James Card. Pickford devotees like myself will gobble it up, but I still wonder whether this book will change the wretched misconception that despite recent efforts (of Brownlow’s, Basinger’s, Whitfield’s…) has persisted. The book is another rediscovery of Pickford’s and points the way to a different knowledge and assessment of film history, a hope of discovering Pickford again as once such large audiences did but, as in the story of the curls, how long will she stay in sight, how long before we settle back for the often-told story of the child impersonator whose pictures ridiculously and uncomfortably remind us of the rather quaint and slightly naive filmmaking of long ago? If someone like Pickford is still in need of rediscovery every few years, what about that legion of other important, game changing, influential stars of the silent era? As research of recent years has shown, there is in fact a lot to be (re)discovered, dusted off in the archives and presented and reinterpreted, but in counterbalance to all this excitement, should we not, as Jane Gaines has argued, be a little wary, of so many discoveries, so many lost objects to cherish and perhaps overcook in our corrected film histories? Aren’t we, in our efforts to unveil, recover or restore forgotten (lost) stars or chapters in film history likely to overwrite other parts or threads? And aren’t we writing in invisible ink for the most part, because misremembered and oddly neglected figures such as Pickford are never really rediscovered (because they were never completely off the radar) and what is presented as new about them quickly rubs off in favour of what we already knew (or think we knew) about them anyway. Or as Alexander Walker noted: ’people generally remember not what they see on the screen, but what they wish to remember – and this, in turn, dictates what they wish to see.’ So truly rediscovering Pickford would appear to be a lost cause, because we are not really looking to find her. Mary Pickford Rediscovered by Kevin Brownlow. "Mary Pickford: Queen of the Movies" Edited by Christel Schmidt. (The University Press of Kentucky - 2012 - 288 pages) When I saw the announcements for "Mary Pickford: Queen of the Movies," I thought, "Another coffee table picture book." I couldn't see how anything could improve on Kevin Brownlow's "Mary Pickford Rediscovered" (Harry N. Abrams, 1999) which has absolutely fabulous photos and great commentary on each of Pickford's films. So, when Christel Schmidt stopped in Raleigh, NC, on her tour with the book and a screening of "Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall" (1924), I couldn't resist purchasing it - and how glad I am that I did! So what did I find that drew me so completely into this publication? Mary Pickford was the first great star, and as historian Robert Cushman states without exaggeration, "the most popular, powerful, prominent and influential woman in the history of cinema." Critic Molly Haskell states in the book's introduction, "Anyone who has seen more than one of the major Pickford films knows that she was a great deal more than a cuddly little girl in pinafores." So true, and this book provides evidence that Pickford was oh, so much more! In "The Natural," Eileen Whitfield praises Pickford for her vision of what film acting should look like, a style very contrary to the Delsarte method of broad histrionics that was so popular at the turn of the century. "One has only to watch her spontaneous Tess ("Tess of the Storm Country - 1914) to see the soul of modern acting in the first great performance of feature film." In "Childhood Revisited," Whitfield attempts to quash the decades-old perception that the majority of Pickford's roles were children - while also praising her brilliant characterizations in the films in which she did portray children. Especially taken in the context of the times, it is nothing short of extraordinary that, by the age of 24, Mary Pickford was not only the most popular female movie star in the world, she was running her own production company - and with great success! Kevin Brownlow's "Passionate Producer" elucidates just how effective Pickford was as a businesswoman - and her successful dealings with some of the most powerful men in the industry such as Adolph Zukor, Cecil B. DeMille, Jesse Lasky, a variety of directors who bent to her will, and others. "Father of the Family" by Schmidt is a bittersweet journey through Pickford's family life, the loss of her mother, the difficulty of her brother and sister - and all the while managing to be what was possibly the world's most successful businesswoman at the time. Schmidt also gives us a personal glimpse into the marriage of Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, a marriage that was built on friendship and mutual respect. To Fairbanks' credit, most men of the time would have been "overwhelmed" at being married to someone of Pickford's stature (as Schmidt points out); however, they saw each other as equals (by the way, the photos of the two together are touching). Alison Trope shows us a side to Pickford of which most are not aware. "Little Mary: Formidable Philanthropist" describes a compassionate individual who sold Liberty Bonds, visited soldiers in the hospital, visited military camps, gave to the Orphan Asylum, helped found the Motion Picture Relief Fund and was a pioneer in film preservation. Edward Wagenknecht is well-known to silent movie fans as one who was actually there during the silent era and remembers seeing Mary Pickford as a young boy. His reminisces are not only nostalgic but insightful regarding what it was like to be a movie fan during those heady days. Some may be delighted, while others may give forth a yawn (probably you guys out there), at the thought of reading about the clothes Pickford wore in her movies, but there is much to hold the reader's interest in Schmidt's "Dressing the Part" by Beth Werling - a piece that highlights not only the gorgeous, elaborate gowns Pickford wore in movies such as "Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall" (1924) but the tattered outfits she wore in such films as "Tess of the Storm Country" (1922). The reader will enjoy the great photos of some of these costumes which are preserved for posterity at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County. "American Idol," also by Schmidt, covers Pickford's work to support the war effort in the late 'teens and her incredible success at bond sales. Pickford biographer Eileen Whitfield once again serves forth with some perceptive observations regarding the appeal of the star in "Laws of Attraction: Mary Pickford, Movies, and the Evolution of Fame." As Whitfield asserts, "In the history of film, no performer (or married couple) has approached this level of celebrity influence and goodwill." Can you write a whole chapter about someone's hair? You bet, and it's interesting reading! In Schmidt's "Crown of Glory: The Rise and Fall of the Mary Pickford Curls," she explains the iconic status of those golden ringlets for millions of fans for so many years - weaving in an understanding of style in the 'teens and twenties and the major influence Pickford had on those styles. However, as the twenties wore on, there was no stopping the "modern" girl and, most importantly, the bob that was being popularized by other, younger stars - and Pickford, too, had to bow to changing times. By the way, did you know that Pickford donated her curls to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County in 1928 when they were shorn for her famous bob? Likely the least intriguing of the chapters is Elizabeth Binggeli's "Blood and Sympathy: Race and the Films of Mary Pickford." "It would be easy enough to argue that as her star ascended, audiences wanted Pickford to look like Pickford," Binggeli writes. "But this answer only begs the question: whatever her natural skin tone, why did 'looking like Pickford' after 1916 mean looking indisputably white?" Such "profound" thought will be lost on the reader since the answer seems obvious - Pickford's portrayal of Indians, Mexicans, Orientals and others essentially corresponds to a time in her career when her productions were managed by others. As her control grew (use 1916 as a turning point, if you wish), Pickford rightly saw the roles that suited her and were popular with her public - and that accounts for the portrayals in subsequent years - an unworthy entry in an otherwise superb book. The ever venerable James Card gives just praise to the star in "The Films of Mary Pickford, and Pickford's part in film preservation is further explored in Schmidt's "Mary Pickford and the Archival Film Movement." Almost included as addendums are "The Mary Pickford Film Collection at the Library of Congress" by Schmidt, "The Mary Pickford Costume and Ephemera Collection at the Natural History Museum of Los Angles County" by Beth Werling and a very absorbing personal recollection by the late Robert Cushman of how he convinced Mary Pickford to donate her photo library to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' Margaret Herrick Library - the reader will also enjoy reading about his trip to Pickfair to rummage through boxes of photos and his discoveries there. My trip to Raleigh that evening was a sheer delight. "Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall" is a worthy entry into the Pickford legacy, and I felt as if I'd met a celebrity talking to Christel Schmidt. She a savvy and knowledgeable Pickford historian. Her enthusiasm for the star is evident when she speaks, and she keeps her audience mesmerized with her anecdotes. This enthusiasm also comes through in Schmidt's chapters in the book which are all required reading. Of course, I quickly saw why "Mary Pickford: Queen of the Movies" was published and why it should be in every silent film fan's library. It is actually a perfect complement to Brownlow's book. The two together tell a story of a star - and I mean a true star in the most stellar sense of the word - and it's a story that is heartwarming, uplifting, intriguing, enchanting, fascinating and entertaining. Pickford deserves a book such as this - her legacy demands it. Mary Pickford Rediscovered by Kevin Brownlow. Actor (8-Apr-1892 — 29-May-1979) SUBJECT OF BOOKS. Kevin Brownlow . Mary Pickford Rediscovered: Rare Pictures of a Hollywood Legend . New York: Harry N. Abrams. 1999 . Gary Carey . Doug & Mary: A Biography of Douglas Fairbanks & Mary Pickford . New York: E. P. Dutton. 1977 . Scott Eyman . Mary Pickford: America's Sweetheart . New York: Donald I. Fine. 1990 . Booton Herndon . Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks: The Most Popular Couple the World Has Known . New York: W. W. Norton. 1977 . Mary Pickford . Sunshine and Shadow . Garden City, NY: Doubleday. 1955 . Eileen Whitefield . Pickford: The Woman Who Made Hollywood . Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky. 1997 . Robert Windeler . Sweetheart: The Story of Mary Pickford . New York: Praeger. 1974 . AUTHORITIES. Below are references indicating presence of this name in another database or other reference material. Most of the sources listed are encyclopedic in nature but might be limited to a specific field, such as musicians or film directors. A lack of listings here does not indicate unimportance -- we are nowhere near finished with this portion of the project -- though if many are shown it does indicate a wide recognition of this individual. PICKS OF THE LITTER. A new video collection vividly illustrates that there is indeed something about Mary. "Sweetheart: The Films of Mary Pickford" revives five of this legendary actress' best films that demonstrate her astounding versatility. Had "Notting Hill" been made during the silent era, Pickford would have been a natural to play the internationally beloved movie star portrayed by Julia Roberts, who, like Pickford, has been embraced by audiences as "America's Sweetheart." But Pickford's popularity remains unprecedented. In a time when only directors received billing, she was the movies' first breakout star. Pickford enjoyed not only popularity, but power. She is the only woman to be the highest paid actor in Hollywood, and she enjoyed creative control over her films. She was the only woman ever to own a major Hollywood studio, United Artists, which she co-founded in 1919 with Charlie Chaplin, D.W. Griffith and Douglas Fairbanks, who later became her second husband. This looks to be another career year for Pickford, who died in 1979 at the age of 87. "Mary Pickford Rediscovered: Rare Pictures of. a Hollywood Legend" by historian Kevin Brownlow has just been published to critical acclaim. Her name is surfacing on millennial lists. The Ladies Home Journal recently ranked her as one of the "100 Most Important Women of the 20th Century." More important, there are these long-inaccessible films, which Pickford had removed from circulation. Though she was beloved as "The Girl With the Golden Hair" or simply "Little Mary," Pickford was the consummate character actor. These films showcase her extraordinary range. Noted Elaina Archer, manager of the Mary Pickford Library in Culver City, Calif., Pickford instinctively adopted a naturalistic acting style for the camera, as opposed to the often melodramatic histrionics associated with stage actors who deigned to appear in this fledgling medium. Arguably the crown jewel of this collection is "Stella Maris" (1918), in which Pickford is uncanny in a dual role as Stella, a paralyzed woman shielded from life's miseries, and Unity Blake, an "ugly duckling" maidservant who ultimately sacrifices herself for Stella's happiness. Pickford reprises one of her favorite roles in "Tess of the Storm Country" (1922), which she filmed in 1914 for director Edwin S. Porter. Tess is a squatter's daughter who falls for the love-struck son of the wealthy scheming "hill-topper" who wants her family off his land. She's at her most winsome and disarming in the romantic comedies "Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley" (1918) and "Daddy Long Legs" (1919). In "My Best Girl" she makes a hilarious Chaplin-esque entrance as a shopgirl loaded down with pots and pans. (Her co-star, Charles "Buddy" Rogers," later became husband No. 3.) According to Robert Cushman, photograph curator at the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences Library, it is estimated thatin 1915, 12.5 million people worldwide saw Pickford onscreen every day of the year. "She was so compelling," he rhapsodized. "Audiences were convinced of her goodness and believed in her. There was nothing phony about her." A sixth film being sold separately that was available on video is "Sparrows" (1926), a Gothic thriller. Pickford stars as an orphan who leads a harrowing escape from the abusive proprietors of a baby farm through an alligator-infested swamp. It is $25. "Sweetheart" is available in a boxed set for $125. Each title retails separately for $30. To order, call 800-603-1104.