
Somewhere between the first thrown egg and the last thrown ring, A Scrambled Romance decides that marriage is not a sacrament but a custard pie still wobbling on the windowsill of absurdity. Polly Moran, eyes blazing like twin locomotive lamps, bulldozes through this 1917 one-reeler with the gait of a woman who has ...

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Comparing the cinematic DNA and archive impact of two defining moments in cult history.

Ward Hayes

Maurice Campbell
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" Somewhere between the first thrown egg and the last thrown ring, A Scrambled Romance decides that marriage is not a sacrament but a custard pie still wobbling on the windowsill of absurdity. Polly Moran, eyes blazing like twin locomotive lamps, bulldozes through this 1917 one-reeler with the gait of a woman who has mistaken her honeymoon for a demolition derby. She is a whirlwind in a lace-trimmed apron, a hoyden whose comic timing snaps tighter than a bear trap. The film—barely twenty minute..."


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