http://www.knoxnews.com/news/2012/mar/25/silent-movie-wowed-critics-flopped-at-box-office/Silent movie wowed critics, flopped at box office
By Matt Lakin
Posted March 25, 2012 at 4 a.m.
The film opened to rave reviews from The New York Times and featured Knoxville's first hometown girl to grace the big screen.
Just don't let its title fool you.
" 'Stark Love' is not a sex picture," the Knoxville Sentinel assured its readers. "A Knoxville girl has helped make a motion picture that will in turn help make motion picture history."
The silent movie, filmed in the Smoky Mountains near Robbinsville, N.C., saw the only star turn by Helen Monday, a 16-year-old Knoxville High School student plucked from a drugstore counter by a passing talent scout. She never made another film, despite praise for her acting as hillbilly heroine Barbara Allen.
Monday wasn't there to see her debut on the screen of Knoxville's Riviera theater June 21, 1927. She was busy touring in Nashville with Maynard Baird and his Southern Serenaders orchestra, a regular act on Knoxville's WNOX radio.
The movie's plot couldn't have been darker. Rob Warwick, an unlettered mountain boy played by teenager Forrest James, falls in love with Barbara, a neighbor's daughter. At her urging, he teaches himself to read and leaves the hills of home to study in the city.
Actress Helen Mundy in the 1927 silent film 'Stark Love.' Mundy was a 16-year-old student at Knoxville High School whose real name was Helen Monday. (KNS Archive)
Photo by KNS archive
Actress Helen Mundy in the 1927 silent film 'Stark Love.' Mundy was a 16-year-old student at Knoxville High School whose real name was Helen Monday. (KNS Archive)
He comes home to find his mother dead, exhausted by a life of hard work, and Barbara claimed as a replacement bride by his abusive, barbaric father. The climax comes when father and son face off in the one-room cabin home as the father drags the unwilling girl to the marital bed.
Barbara saves the day when she turns on the father with an ax and leads Rob to safety through a flood.
Director Karl Brown, a former cameraman for D.W. Griffith, had pitched the film as a documentary in the style of "Nanook of the North," made with real mountain people he claimed had never even seen a camera. In reality, he recruited Monday and James from restaurants and drugstores in Southern cities like Knoxville and rounded up the rest from locals.
He paid the sheriff extra for deputies to guard Monday, who basked in the limelight and nearly got her first taste of moonshine on set.
The movie's Oedipal storyline didn't sit well with executives at Paramount, its distributor. Audiences didn't take to the film, either, even though the Times endorsed it as an "engrossing and trenchant pictorial transcript of the daily life of those slothful mountaineers. ... all living, dressing and undressing, sleeping and eating in the same cabin room."
The dawn of talking pictures had already begun to shove silents like "Stark Love" to the side. Couple that with a controversial plot and half-hearted marketing by skittish studio heads, and the movie faded from public view.
The studio melted most of the reels for "Stark Love" down to salvage the silver nitrate stock. Film scholars considered it a lost classic until a copy surfaced in a Czechoslovakian archive in 1968.
Even today, the movie remains mostly unseen — never translated to home video, with all rights claimed by the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art in New York and the Library of Congress. The Tennessee Archive of Moving Image and Sound worked for years to arrange a single screening five years ago at the East Tennessee History Center in Knoxville.
James and Monday never pursued Hollywood careers. James went home to Alabama to an athletic and business career and to father future Gov. Fob James. Monday married and moved to Galesburg, Mich., where she died in 1987.
The Sentinel's anonymous reviewer generally approved of "Stark Love" for its acting, storyline and cinematography but balked at a few details.
"It is to be hoped that mountain customs are not quite as primitive as the picture will have us believe," he wrote. "The mountaineers are not quite so hard on their women."
© 2012, Knoxville News Sentinel Co.