The premise of the story is that a woman, the gorgeous Larita, is caught in a scandal when she is divorced from her husband (he was a drunk louse, and the 'Easy Virtue' name comes from the sort of scandal at the time: she went into another man's arms, an artist who cared for her, and then he got into a big fight that ended with a gun going off).
In other words, she was found guilty and found a "Correspondent" or whatever that means, so she decides to high tail it to the Mediterranean/South of France and happens to meet a nice young man, John, who just falls head over heels for her... except he doesn't know about her past, and doesn't care to ask even when she asks why he lovers her without knowing about her. Then it's time for a 'Meet the Parents' scenario. You can see where this might go.
At first I thought this might be somewhat of an unintentional trial run for Hitchcock for Rebecca, also about the terrors that come to a woman when she is brought home by her new beau to the family and the mother doesn't take a liking to her in the slightest. But this isn't Gothic melodrama, this is more about morality and class mores. There's a on one hand on the other hand with this scenario: on the one hand, it's now 2016, and divorce, though not something that's very pleasant and often can end acrimoniously and Ireland only allowed it as a thing 20 years ago and so on, is something that is a societal norm. So in 1928 it was not at all normal and, on the contrary, if one became a scandalous figure for it (for, GASP, possibly favoring another man over a drunken brute!), it could be seen as something unfavorable.
But on the other hand, to the stories credit, the way the story ends up rolling out not all sides see this past of Larita's omething that's even they're business, when it does surface (at first her face is a 'you remind me of someone' thing, but it can't be placed until it's seen in a newspaper, somehow the medium change makes it clear which is a clever touch by the way). I liked the moments where John's father takes Larita aside and says 'do right by my boy, I don't care about what you did before.' It's a mature moment, just as when she tells them all when the big revelation comes out, 'it's my business, I have to live with it, not you' to that extent.
So there's some drama to unpack here, but I think for the most part Hitchcock finds a way to navigate this story with entertaining direction and moments that really make you keep attention. He can't help that some of its contrived to the point that one might see in a modern romantic comedy or drama - i.e. if the main couple just sat down and had a damn conversation it'd be the end of it, and the "I love you without knowing you" seems a little weak, albeit it does end up being part of the commentary on how flawed John is when he is in one place like the South of France vs with his family - but there's many moments for terrific acting Isabel Jeans as Larita and the mother played by Violet Farebrother.
I think one can pick apart this movie and see the holes in it, or how the ending is a bit rushed, and at the end of it all its still a credit to how sharp Hitchcock's craft was by 1928, near the tail-end of his work in silent productions, that he could make the camera dynamic (watch for those shots in the courtroom early on that make things seem bent out of shape, the way those views-through-the-monocle for the judge gives an entrapping quality, at least it did for me), and probably puts in some comedy where I can't see it being in the play.
A highlight is when John and Larita are in a horse-drawn carriage and it's a moment where love is professed though he doesn't care about her past (at that moment)... and then Hitchcock cuts to a wide shot and shows that the carriage driver has dozed off (!) and the horse has stopped in order to, yes, have the equivalent of making out with another horse in front of him, or her (!!) It's genuine laughs to be had there, and it's all from staging and timing (I can't picture that happening on a stage unless it was with horse costumes or something), not to mention the comedic highlight with a telephone-switchboard operator (Benita Hume is the actress) eavesdropping on a call between the two love-birds and just how her face and eyes change in one minute is uproariously funny. Hell, even a shot showing the full dining room for the Whittaker family, with Christian saints hanging large and looming on the walls, is amusing.
Jeans has some glamorous moments and times to shine, and the acting across the board is solid. It's dated in certain significant ways, and predictable in some others (i.e. the 'other' girl who could've been John's who is always on the sidelines like the platonic woman or something), and not least of which the ending. Yet at least it's a story that, for the time, attempts to wag a finger at people who think Divorce = Bad, and Hitchcock tries to overcome the lack of what would usually be necessary in adapting a Noel Coward play, like *dialog*, and can still make some interesting cinema out of it.
In other words, she was found guilty and found a "Correspondent" or whatever that means, so she decides to high tail it to the Mediterranean/South of France and happens to meet a nice young man, John, who just falls head over heels for her... except he doesn't know about her past, and doesn't care to ask even when she asks why he lovers her without knowing about her. Then it's time for a 'Meet the Parents' scenario. You can see where this might go.
At first I thought this might be somewhat of an unintentional trial run for Hitchcock for Rebecca, also about the terrors that come to a woman when she is brought home by her new beau to the family and the mother doesn't take a liking to her in the slightest. But this isn't Gothic melodrama, this is more about morality and class mores. There's a on one hand on the other hand with this scenario: on the one hand, it's now 2016, and divorce, though not something that's very pleasant and often can end acrimoniously and Ireland only allowed it as a thing 20 years ago and so on, is something that is a societal norm. So in 1928 it was not at all normal and, on the contrary, if one became a scandalous figure for it (for, GASP, possibly favoring another man over a drunken brute!), it could be seen as something unfavorable.
But on the other hand, to the stories credit, the way the story ends up rolling out not all sides see this past of Larita's omething that's even they're business, when it does surface (at first her face is a 'you remind me of someone' thing, but it can't be placed until it's seen in a newspaper, somehow the medium change makes it clear which is a clever touch by the way). I liked the moments where John's father takes Larita aside and says 'do right by my boy, I don't care about what you did before.' It's a mature moment, just as when she tells them all when the big revelation comes out, 'it's my business, I have to live with it, not you' to that extent.
So there's some drama to unpack here, but I think for the most part Hitchcock finds a way to navigate this story with entertaining direction and moments that really make you keep attention. He can't help that some of its contrived to the point that one might see in a modern romantic comedy or drama - i.e. if the main couple just sat down and had a damn conversation it'd be the end of it, and the "I love you without knowing you" seems a little weak, albeit it does end up being part of the commentary on how flawed John is when he is in one place like the South of France vs with his family - but there's many moments for terrific acting Isabel Jeans as Larita and the mother played by Violet Farebrother.
I think one can pick apart this movie and see the holes in it, or how the ending is a bit rushed, and at the end of it all its still a credit to how sharp Hitchcock's craft was by 1928, near the tail-end of his work in silent productions, that he could make the camera dynamic (watch for those shots in the courtroom early on that make things seem bent out of shape, the way those views-through-the-monocle for the judge gives an entrapping quality, at least it did for me), and probably puts in some comedy where I can't see it being in the play.
A highlight is when John and Larita are in a horse-drawn carriage and it's a moment where love is professed though he doesn't care about her past (at that moment)... and then Hitchcock cuts to a wide shot and shows that the carriage driver has dozed off (!) and the horse has stopped in order to, yes, have the equivalent of making out with another horse in front of him, or her (!!) It's genuine laughs to be had there, and it's all from staging and timing (I can't picture that happening on a stage unless it was with horse costumes or something), not to mention the comedic highlight with a telephone-switchboard operator (Benita Hume is the actress) eavesdropping on a call between the two love-birds and just how her face and eyes change in one minute is uproariously funny. Hell, even a shot showing the full dining room for the Whittaker family, with Christian saints hanging large and looming on the walls, is amusing.
Jeans has some glamorous moments and times to shine, and the acting across the board is solid. It's dated in certain significant ways, and predictable in some others (i.e. the 'other' girl who could've been John's who is always on the sidelines like the platonic woman or something), and not least of which the ending. Yet at least it's a story that, for the time, attempts to wag a finger at people who think Divorce = Bad, and Hitchcock tries to overcome the lack of what would usually be necessary in adapting a Noel Coward play, like *dialog*, and can still make some interesting cinema out of it.