Let's see. This very wealthy young lady, Betty Balfour, runs, or rather flies away from home on a lark. Picked up at sea by a ship, she meets two classy gentlemen. One is a villainous looking older type with a mustache (Frederick von Alten), the other a handsome young fellow, a little priggish (Jean Bradin).
Her father catches up to her and informs her that in her absence the market has fallen and they are now broke. We next see Betty and Daddy living in reduced circumstances, with Betty doing all the work. Bradin visits them and offers to take her out of "this wretched place." Right away, I didn't like Bradin too much. That wretched place looked more comfortable than where I grew up. Not that it matters -- Betty tells him she couldn't leave Daddy alone in any case, although she and Bradin are clearly attracted to one another.
Betty, however, must get a job to support her and her father. She becomes a "flower girl" at a cantina, where she runs into both of the men she met on the ship. The unctuous and oily Maitre De, for whom she works, makes life miserable for her. One thing follows another and she decides to run home to America was the mustachioed von Alten. Bradin catches them aboard ship before they leave. A fight ensues but Daddy bursts in and tells them that it was all a joke. They're still as rich as Croesus! Betty swoons into Bradin's arms! Bon voyage! I got lost a bit here and there in this silent flick. There weren't many title cards and the transitions seemed too quick for me at times. Either the editing was off or my brain is turning into some kind of instant soy burger compound. Add one cup milk and one beaten egg. For instance, Daddy tells Betty they are busted and, whammo, we see her serving him what struck me as a recherché dinner with champagne, while he smiles in his evening clothes. And they're supposed to be POOR.
It's also rather too long to be adequately supported by this rather thin and whimsical story. It's not slow. It just meanders along leaving oxbow lakes behind. There were times I didn't understand her motives. Why does she pretend to be jolly in the cantina while the priggish young man who could be her savior sits across the table from her? Or IS she pretending? See what I mean? Interesting experiment. Two samples of people, both naive movie-goers who wouldn't know Alfred Hitchcock from Fred Niblo. Tell Group One that the movie they are about to see is called "Champagne" and was directed by the famous Alfred Hitchcock. Tell Group Two nothing. Then show them the movie and ask them to rate it on a scale from one to ten, ten being best. Prediction: Group One will rate it significantly higher than Group Two.
Why else would anyone watch this extended and not particularly engaging film except for their knowing that it was an early effort of Alfred Hitchcock?
