[Not] Mary Pickford and David Belasco in A Good Little Devil

[Not] Mary Pickford and David Belasco in A Good Little Devil. (Courtesy of NYPL)

There are several nice photographs—technically frame enlargements—of Mary Pickford and David Belasco together in an office. Most sources on the internet at large (and beyond) often erroneously describe them as pertaining to the Famous Players Film Company production of A Good Little Devil and often note them as being taken from the film's prologue. I believe this to be incorrect and as such, I am presenting the evidence here to set the record straight.

Because the high demand for David Belasco's theatrical performance of A Good Little Devil could not be met—the obvious reason being that the troupe could only be in one place at any given time—he came up with the idea of creating a motion picture of the story that could be shown around the country at any time. He met with his friend Daniel Frohman of the Famous Players Film Company and soon after, Mary Pickford's first feature film and her time with Famous Players was born. As for the film itself, Mary, not surprisingly, didn't particularly like it, noting that it was "not a good picture largely because the stage technic was followed too closely. The stage manager held the book of the play, and we all went through the lines just as on the stage." (The Ladies' Home Journal, August 1923.) 

First, let's clear up the film's actual prologue. While the film is considered lost, portions of it do remain. Unfortunately, I have never seen them but via other means, it's easy enough to describe the prologue. The May 31, 1913 issue of Moving Picture News states, "It all came about when, one day last week, David Belasco visited the studio of the Famous Players Film Company, where motion pictures were being produced of 'A Good Little Devil.' He became so interested that, after watching the rehearsal for a few minutes, he found himself running up to William Norris, Mary Pickford, Ernest Truex and the other actors, correcting or polishing some bit of stage business. Though Belasco was unmindful of his surroundings, Director Ed Porter was not. The reel continue to wind, the rapid click of the machine went on, and when Mr. Belasco and the others were ready to stop for luncheon he was courteously informed that a motion picture had been made that would be called 'David Belasco conducting a rehearsal of one of his companies.' Several sources note that this event became the prologue, though, as amusing as that would be, that seems highly unlikely. Most sources from the time noted that the film opens with Belasco seated at a fireplace in deep thought when the characters from the play, including Mary, appear around him. Indeed, publicity stills depict this scene.

This postcard features a publicity still, utilizing a bit of trick photography, showing the film's prologue. 

So what do these Pickford-Belasco photos in question show? Part of the answer can be found in the December 1915 issue of Photoplay, where Belasco himself says, "I remember once Mary asked David W. Griffith, who was her first motion picture director, if she could do a picture with me. And one of the things that I value very highly is a reel, the only one which I possess, and which I have in my studio and treasure greatly. We did the picture, along with Mr. Griffith and the late William J. Dean, who was my general stage director at the time." A photo caption in the same article reads "Reproduction from the Belasco-Pickford film, no part of which has ever been seen."

Mary also recalled the same meeting on several occasions. In her 1923 autobiographical series, "My Own Story," published in the Ladies' Home Journal, she succinctly noted,"Mr. Belasco came to the Biograph studio to see Lena and the Geese, and we took a picture of him, Mr. Dean, and the rest of us. Everyone was much impressed by the visit of this great man from the theatre."

Considering this short film is in all probability lost, Mary thankfully shares more details in the June 20, 1916 Daily Talks by Mary Pickford, where she (via Frances Marion) writes, "Mr. Belasco wanted to see me in some of my pictures so Mr. Griffith arranges it and Mr. Belasco came down. I think it was the proudest moment of my life when I took this great genius into the Biograph studio. 

"Mr Belasco was persuaded to pose in a picture and we took several hundred feet of film. it was a comedy satire on the signing of my contract. Mr. Griffith had the camera swung on Mr. Belasco and himself for a few amusing scenes, where Mr. Griffith pretended to be the poor, trembling author and presented Mr. Belasco with one of his plays. As soon as he departed, Mr. Belasco looked at the script, read a few pages of it, almost collapses, and pitched it headlong into the waste basket. 

"Then I came on as a nervous ingenue and played the scene for the pictures just as I had done it in life the first day I met Mr. Belasco. 

"Mr. Dean has since died and as he had been with Mr. Belasco for fifteen years, that piece of film is monumental to the happy days when those two great friends were together."

And so, these photos do not come from A Good Little Devil but from that fun little film taken at the Biograph Studio.

For good measure, there is additional evidence also worth noting. In the Pickford-Belasco photos, the AB (American Biograph) logo—which D.W. Griffith added to his Biograph sets as an anti-piracy measure—is clearly visible on the wall in the background (though its admittedly not so clear on the photos included here.) Furthermore, the single sprocket hole created by Biograph's cameras is visible in the film frames, which would not be present had this been taken at the Famous Players studio. Lastly, additional photographs from the same scene show D.W. Griffith and, presumably, Belasco stage director William J. Dean, which corroborates both Belasco's and Mary's recollections of the event.

Note the "AB" logo as well as the Biograph camera sprocket hole. (Courtesy of NYPL.)

This similar frame comes from the December 1915 issue of Photoplay. Unfortunately, the AB logo was cleverly "photoshopped" out of the frame. (Courtesy of MHDL.)