24 June 1918: The New York Tribune’s film review of ‘Her Final Reckoning’ was just a bit picky. Maybe it was due to the reviewer seeing a ukulele played, but not being able to hear it (silent flick).
Pauline Frederick’s picture is called ‘Her Final Reckoning.’ We would not number Miss Frederick among the burning beauties of the screen, and it seemed to us that the part of a dashing gypsy did not fit her over well. Dash is almost the last thing which we would associate with Miss Frederick. There are no quick tempests in her face. Even her horseback riding seemed to fall somewhat short of the impetuosity required, particularly as she rode side-saddle. This seemed singularly ungypsylike.
In other respects the character was less conventional, and to her sorrow. If she had not looked out from her window at Biarritz many feet of film might have been saved. Yet it was hard to blame her. It was bright moonlight and the young man with the ukulele was playing ‘Where do we go from here?’. A look was not enough. When the troubadour swung into ‘Poor Butterfly’ she threw him a rose. He caught the rose and then climbed the balcony. She discovered a week later that he was married, but then it was too late.