Petticoat Camp (1912)

The Thanhouser Film Corporation wasn’t in business very long (1909-1918) but it was the right company at the right time. While many pre-1920 films, mostly the shorts, remained stagey and more than a little hokumized, Thanhouser tried for and mostly achieved a greater degree of realism.

The company developed and promoted one major star, Florence La Badie (nee, Florence Russ). Le Badie was introduced to movie acting by her friend, Mary Pickford, in 1909. She signed a contract with Biograph, but left in 1911 to move to Thanhouser, where she stayed until 1917. Shortly after signing she was injured in an automobile accident and died days later of septicemia. She was just 29 years old. Never married, she had been the girlfriend of Marcus Loew for several years.

Watching Petticoat Camp, you can see why she was so popular with movie-goers and has been called the first movie star. She’s cute and peppy and completely believable as the young wife next door.

In the film, which is a variation of the traditional marriage joke told from the distaff point of view, several married couples go to an island for a camping trip. Titles tells us that “It’s lots of fun camping—for the husbands,” whom we see smoking, drinking, eating, fishing, hunting, and, no doubt, swapping stories about how the little woman obeys every command. “It’s not so jolly—for the wives.”

We see the gals putting on their aprons to cook and clean. When the boys return from fishing, guess who gets to clean the catch.

Finally, the men wander off to hunt and Le Badie (none of the characters have names) has had enough. She writes a note and shows it to her comrades in misery: “Dear Lords and Masters: We, the wives, strike! We are tired of working while you play. We will camp alone on the next island. Your ex-slaves.”

When the men return to camp and find Florence’s note, they are at first bewildered, then angry, then defiant. They’ll just cook for themselves, and by the looks on their faces as they eat their vittles, not at all successfully.

Their attempt to get the gals back ends in defeat and humiliation.

This small scale and domestic version of Lysistrata (with the kitchen taking the place of the bedroom) is a delight. None of the performers look like they’re acting, nor--and you may have to be a devotee of silent films to understand this distinction--do they look like they’re trying not to look like they’re acting.

This surprisingly clever little film is a good introduction to the Thanhouser output, which numbered over 1,000 movies in the company’s brief lifetime. Less than 200 of the pictures remain. When the company dissolved, founder Edwin Thanhouser burned all the negatives, he said because he didn’t want to pay storage fees.