Silent film buffs familiar with the short dramas produced by D. W. Griffith for the American Biograph company know that despite Griffith's famous penchant for triumphant, race-to-the-rescue climaxes, quite a few of these films are tragedies with downbeat endings. Of all the Biograph tragedies I've seen The Painted Lady is perhaps the saddest, thanks largely to Blanche Sweet's heart-rending performance in the central role. Miss Sweet plays the daughter of a wealthy man. Significantly, her name is never mentioned, but we do learn that she is timid, mousy and unpopular, especially in comparison to her brash younger sister, who dresses flamboyantly and wears heavy makeup. Although Blanche Sweet was obviously an attractive woman, she deftly conveys her character's social awkwardness during a scene set at an ice cream social, where the men flock around her sister but can barely trouble themselves to greet Blanche at all.
Unfortunately, a con man who is after her father's money arranges to meet Blanche at the party and quickly begins courting her, despite her father's disapproval. (The basic situation is similar to Henry James' novel "Washington Square," and latter-day viewers of this film might be reminded of Olivia DeHavilland in the screen adaptation of that book, The Heiress, at least up to the halfway point.) When Blanche suggests to her beau that she might be more attractive if she painted and powdered her face, he assures her he likes her just the way she is. That evening, disguised, he breaks into her father's study and attempts to rob his safe, but Blanche, who does not recognize him, confronts him with a pistol. There is a struggle for the gun, and he is fatally shot. When Blanche realizes that she has killed the only man who ever showed interest in her -- and that his interest was feigned, for he was only after her father's money -- she comes unglued and loses her mind. Pathetically, she continues to "meet" with her sweetheart, strolling and chatting with a man who is no longer there. Eventually, seeing her pale reflection in the mirror one day, she applies makeup prior to what proves to be their final "meeting." As she speaks with her phantom lover, Blanche becomes uneasy, takes out a hand mirror and sees the makeup on her face, attempts to wipe it off, and is then seized with a fit and dies on the spot.
The ending is ambiguous. Perhaps, in her last moments, Blanche has recalled that her onetime beau told her she didn't need makeup, and tries to wipe it off for that reason. Or perhaps she realizes that the scoundrel is dead, and that he was unworthy of her love in the first place and is thus unworthy of any effort to "improve" her appearance. The common wisdom when the film was made, which director Griffith doubtless shared, was that women who wore excessive makeup and loud clothing were unladylike, to put it politely; indeed, in the opening sequence Blanche's younger sister, i.e. the "popular" one, practically comes off like a prostitute. Blanche, although shy and awkward, conducts herself the way Griffith considered proper for a respectable young lady. Clearly the director is indicating that the men of this town are vulgar hicks easily impressed by a flashy appearance, a pack of yahoos who don't appreciate real beauty when they see it, and thus their opinions shouldn't be taken to heart. Perhaps the ending is meant to suggest that, by wearing makeup to this last rendezvous, Blanche has cheapened herself, and her realization of this proves to be fatal.
However melodramatic or even absurd the plot may sound, it is played with great conviction, and, as in all the best Biograph dramas, the acting style is understated for the time. And although the film is sad, it has a postscript that is rather amusing. In 1971 film historian Anthony Slide screened The Painted Lady for Blanche Sweet. Beforehand, Sweet said she had no memory of making or seeing the movie, but after viewing it she proclaimed it her favorite of all her many Biograph appearances, and later gave other interviewers suspiciously well-detailed "recollections" of its production! Well, even if her anecdotes were bogus, it's not hard to see why the lady so enjoyed the film: her character is the center of attention throughout, and in the course of the story she is rejected, weeps, commits a murder, goes mad, and dies on camera for the film's final shot. From the point of view of an actress, what's not to like?
