"Baby Peggy, the Elephant in the Room" does what a good documentary should; it sheds light on a little-known subject. I like to fancy myself a film buff especially when it comes to the silent era, but I don't recall having heard of child-star Baby Peggy until recently, with the real-life former actress turned writer, Diana Serra Cary, having recently, as of this posting, become 100 years old--claimed as the last surviving star of the silent age of Hollywood. At the peak of her stardom in the early 1920s, as an article displayed in the movie estimates, she was making $1.5 million annually. Her father and family squandered it all, and, along with the Hollywood system and vaudeville circuit, squandered her childhood, to boot.
I find it difficult to be charmed by movies featuring child stars for this reason and, as this documentary also demonstrates, Baby Peggy was hardly the only underage performer to have their childhood, fortunes and futures mishandled, as well as to be placed in hazardous working conditions. I doubt things are much better nowadays. Even with revisions to California's Coogan Bill, named after Baby Peggy's contemporary child star Jackie Coogan, who likewise had his earnings stolen by his parents, that only covers part of the financial problem. And, sure, education and labor laws may be more protective today generally than they were in the early 20th century, but one doesn't need to look very much into charges and convictions, which have gained more attention since the MeToo movement, to see how abusive show business remains, even ignoring the question of whether childhood stardom can ever be healthy. It's a wonder there's any charm left in child-star movies, as it is, let alone modeling or the reality-TV trash.
Less remarked upon here is how Baby Peggy's childhood has been squandered twice over by the general loss of most silent films. This documentary reports that 12 of Baby Peggy's short films had so far been found, which is hardly the worst survival rate for a filmmaker of that era when films were made on inflammable nitrate and otherwise largely considered disposable. The remarkable thing about this documentary is that despite this doubled mistreatment of Baby Peggy, this is a story that celebrates survival. Cary, herself, has led the way in the preservation of her films, and footage here reveals her attending exhibitions of her work (both the films and her subsequent books) and answering letters from and interacting with fans. Much of the movie also focuses on her relationship with her granddaughter, and Cary's hard-earned appreciation for the preservation of childhood. And, of course, 100 years and going is a significant achievement of survival in itself.
I find it difficult to be charmed by movies featuring child stars for this reason and, as this documentary also demonstrates, Baby Peggy was hardly the only underage performer to have their childhood, fortunes and futures mishandled, as well as to be placed in hazardous working conditions. I doubt things are much better nowadays. Even with revisions to California's Coogan Bill, named after Baby Peggy's contemporary child star Jackie Coogan, who likewise had his earnings stolen by his parents, that only covers part of the financial problem. And, sure, education and labor laws may be more protective today generally than they were in the early 20th century, but one doesn't need to look very much into charges and convictions, which have gained more attention since the MeToo movement, to see how abusive show business remains, even ignoring the question of whether childhood stardom can ever be healthy. It's a wonder there's any charm left in child-star movies, as it is, let alone modeling or the reality-TV trash.
Less remarked upon here is how Baby Peggy's childhood has been squandered twice over by the general loss of most silent films. This documentary reports that 12 of Baby Peggy's short films had so far been found, which is hardly the worst survival rate for a filmmaker of that era when films were made on inflammable nitrate and otherwise largely considered disposable. The remarkable thing about this documentary is that despite this doubled mistreatment of Baby Peggy, this is a story that celebrates survival. Cary, herself, has led the way in the preservation of her films, and footage here reveals her attending exhibitions of her work (both the films and her subsequent books) and answering letters from and interacting with fans. Much of the movie also focuses on her relationship with her granddaughter, and Cary's hard-earned appreciation for the preservation of childhood. And, of course, 100 years and going is a significant achievement of survival in itself.