Flunked and Fumbled

The appeal alludes me of these generic college-sports rom-coms that began popping up in the 1920s. "Brown of Harvard" (1926), "The Fair Co-Ed," "West Point" (both 1927), for examples, and this, "The Plastic Age." It's no wonder comedians Harold Lloyd ("The Freshman" (1925)) and Buster Keaton ("College" (1927)) were quick to parody them. I'm not sure when exactly the genre got going, although this one is based on a book; regardless, I suppose it's a confluence of universities, sports, and cinema all coming of age in the Roaring Twenties, along with Prohibition and the emergence of the Flapper. Promising-enough material all gone to waste in this case.

Moreover, this is the film credited with making Clara Bow a star--that is, before she became the biggest movie celebrity in the world with "It" (1927). But, the most remarkable thing about her role in this one is how little she has to do in it. This is co-star Donald Keith's picture, really, and although he's more charming this time around than in his prior efforts with Bow that I've seen ("Parisian Love" and "Free to Love" (both also 1925)), that's a low bar, and he's simply occupying too much space here. I wanted to see Bow as flapper and, instead, she's a supporting character to a man's dull dramatic arch and eventually settling down to presumably be a complacent wife for him. After he wins the big game, of course.

Nothing like the blunt sports metaphors in these things to demonstrate the notion of women as objects to conquer, as trophies for the heroes. Outplay your rival and win the game and you get a girl. Which is bad enough, but Bow's flapper days are none too exciting, either. Mostly, it's merely some dancing at a speakeasy, and there's some dimwitted frat shenanigans early on involving drag and paddles. The one aspect I found intriguing was that Bow is introduced by way of her photographed headshot, as if her character were also an actress or pin-up model.

As for the fictional college here, it's one of those campuses where nobody ever goes to a class or studies. The comedy is unanimously unamusing and broad slapstick. There's one character on the sidelines during the big game who seems to be trying repeatedly to kick himself in the head for celebration, which I found particularly odd. The 1920s youth slang is "applesauce," and we must endure garbage platitudes directed at the hero, such as that the only thing that can beat him is himself, or that the girl thinks he's too good for her. Worst of all is the picture's tendency to violate the rule against telling instead of showing. Until the big game, when American football more obviously demonstrated its rugby roots, we're only told about the hero's athletic exploits and pitfalls. When the girl "slows down" to become supposedly good, we're only told this, too--not shown it.

This was Bow's 15th and last film of 1925, so I'm not surprised if they're mostly, if not all, stinkers. This one's success in particular is credited with Paramount rehiring producer B.P. Schulberg, importantly bringing Bow with him and where the star would be afforded better than quickie productions such as this. Indeed, she would slow down.