Not many Ruth Chatterton films are available today, but she was once BIG, as Norma Desmond would say, and I was eager to see this film, which was a major success for her and all involved. Despite what we've been told, Madame X is NOT a story of sacrificial mother love. It is, instead, a story that is ludicrous, but one which gives the actress a juicy role and the producer a surefire hit.
(Spoilers follow, so if you don't know the story, despite having read the other reviews, and want to be surprised, stop reading now.)
In Part 1, Chatterton, having abandoned her husband and son to marry another man, who has since died, begs her former husband to take her back. Her pleas fall on deaf ears and spurned, she leaves. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but abandoning one's child in search of happiness in romance - ala Anna Karenina - is not, and never has been, an example of mother love. Part 2 covers 20 years of absinthe and globetrotting with mean companions, which has transformed Chatterton from the treacly-sweet lady of the first scenes into a cynical semi-criminal. This portion of the film is totally absorbing and Chatterton is magnificent in portraying her character's slide into the sewer.
In Part 3, Chatterton is in court on a charge of murder and, can you believe it, her defense attorney is her son. Also pushing the limits of believability is that despite the passage of 20 years, her former husband, his best friend, and the governess, all of whom are sitting some distance from the accused, immediately recognize the silent and unrecognizable Chatterton. They react with shock, pity, and remorse. The viewer's tearducts open and the sobbing begins. Moments later, Madame X, her identity about to be revealed, shouts that she wants to protect the boy she loves from scandal. While laudable, this is only part of the truth. She also says that she doesn't want her former husband and son to know what she has become, to know how low she has sunk. Understandably, she wants to protect herself from further shame, and though concealing the truth is certainly the right thing to do, it is not evidence of sacrificial mother love. Then the son, not knowing who she is, makes an impassioned and lengthy speech, the purpose of which is to wring tears from a credulous audience, begging the jury to acquit her, which seems to me to be inappropriate behavior on the part of Counsel.
But there's still one final incredible moment to come that wraps up this ludicrous story. Chatterton, I kid you not, drops dead before the jury brings in its verdict, and the son says ... something to melt a misanthropes heart of stone. Phooey on the story. But don't let that stop you from watching Chatterton work wonders with this old wheezer.
You'd think Hollywood would have shoved Madame X in the vault and locked the door, but instead they filmed it again in 1937 with Gladys George, an inadequate substitute for Chatterton, and yet again in 1966 with Lana Turner, a version I have not, and will not sit through, no matter how tempted I am to see Turner without makeup.
(Spoilers follow, so if you don't know the story, despite having read the other reviews, and want to be surprised, stop reading now.)
In Part 1, Chatterton, having abandoned her husband and son to marry another man, who has since died, begs her former husband to take her back. Her pleas fall on deaf ears and spurned, she leaves. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but abandoning one's child in search of happiness in romance - ala Anna Karenina - is not, and never has been, an example of mother love. Part 2 covers 20 years of absinthe and globetrotting with mean companions, which has transformed Chatterton from the treacly-sweet lady of the first scenes into a cynical semi-criminal. This portion of the film is totally absorbing and Chatterton is magnificent in portraying her character's slide into the sewer.
In Part 3, Chatterton is in court on a charge of murder and, can you believe it, her defense attorney is her son. Also pushing the limits of believability is that despite the passage of 20 years, her former husband, his best friend, and the governess, all of whom are sitting some distance from the accused, immediately recognize the silent and unrecognizable Chatterton. They react with shock, pity, and remorse. The viewer's tearducts open and the sobbing begins. Moments later, Madame X, her identity about to be revealed, shouts that she wants to protect the boy she loves from scandal. While laudable, this is only part of the truth. She also says that she doesn't want her former husband and son to know what she has become, to know how low she has sunk. Understandably, she wants to protect herself from further shame, and though concealing the truth is certainly the right thing to do, it is not evidence of sacrificial mother love. Then the son, not knowing who she is, makes an impassioned and lengthy speech, the purpose of which is to wring tears from a credulous audience, begging the jury to acquit her, which seems to me to be inappropriate behavior on the part of Counsel.
But there's still one final incredible moment to come that wraps up this ludicrous story. Chatterton, I kid you not, drops dead before the jury brings in its verdict, and the son says ... something to melt a misanthropes heart of stone. Phooey on the story. But don't let that stop you from watching Chatterton work wonders with this old wheezer.
You'd think Hollywood would have shoved Madame X in the vault and locked the door, but instead they filmed it again in 1937 with Gladys George, an inadequate substitute for Chatterton, and yet again in 1966 with Lana Turner, a version I have not, and will not sit through, no matter how tempted I am to see Turner without makeup.