Lucky Star is another Borzage film full of melodramatic clichés
that should take us right out of the movie.
There’s a young girl who is abused by her mother. There’s a bad guy who schemes to get the girl
away from her family by appealing to the mother. There’s a wheelchair-bound veteran who learns to walk in an afternoon so he
can get through a snowstorm to rescue the girl.
In summary form, these elements wouldn’t seem to make for compelling
cinema.
But when Borzage puts them into this film, they resonate. Maybe one element in the success here is that
Borzage and his actors seem so committed.
Lucky Star is devoid of any sense of irony or feeling that
it’s just making requisite melodramatic gestures. Charles Farrell, who has a larger role here
than in his two previous Borzage outings, looks genuinely annoyed at Mary’s
dishonesty, and his Tim is clearly conflicted when Mary heads off to a dance in
town. We can see this in Farrell’s face
and body language. Likewise, Janet
Gaynor’s Mary often shows a guarded curiosity with Tim and an uneducated,
childish openness in her face that isn’t exaggerated or affected. She’s a person, not a shallow
stereotype. Borzage even directs the
villain, Wrenn, as a man who is up to no good but not as a towering figure of
evil. Wrenn is an arrogant, selfish
person, but he is a human-scale villain and not a caricature. They are all understated and lacking in
hyperbole, and that’s part of what makes them touching in Lucky Star.
Borzage’s tight plotting also builds action so plot events seem to
make sense; at least the plot isn't as episodic as that of many melodramatic
stories. Later actions in the film are
motivated by preceding ones or by what we’ve learned of a character. The ending conflict between Tim and Wrenn is
just a final development of the tense relationship between the men that we see
in the opening. Also, in the war, we
learn Wrenn’s seduction technique is to promise to marry the girl, and we then
see him use this technique later in film.
Even Joe’s turning on Wrenn has precedent as he states is disapproval of
Wrenn’s conduct well before he acts on it.
Actions and characters in Lucky Star have plenty of precedent and
motivation, which helps keep us from feeling overtly manipulated for
melodramatic purposes. The logical world
of the script makes us willing to accept the actions in the story.
And the beauty in this Borzage film adds an element of
pleasure. As the film moves forward, we’re
not only following plot development but moving from one great image to the
next. Lucky Star is a progression of interesting textures, whether snow, the lines on floors, or the objects on a wall or table. The film's images are rich in things to look at. Borzage also uses light to both focus
our attention and comment on the action.
Lucky Star often gives us a plausible source for a light with either a
window or an on-camera light source. And
this same lighting can also carry meaning.
For example, when Tim falls after trying to walk, he tumbles out of a
patch of light and into backlit shadow reflecting his frustration. Borzage’s images also use depth of field to
such an extent that viewers have to be aware of what’s happening in all planes
of the image to follow the action. Objects, actions and attitudes in the background reflect or comment on the
foreground action, as we see in Tim’s first conflict with Wrenn atop the
telephone pole. And another element of Borzage’s
images is his clear preference for a classical composition using a strong
diagonal and a triangular arrangement of the elements of his images. All these characteristics give Borzage’s
individual images a deeply pleasing beauty while we’re also moving along
through the story.
But it’s still hard to explain why Borzage’s late 20s work like
Lucky Star is so touching and gratifying.
There is a sincerity, honesty and beauty to these films that clearly endures
today.
