The Delightful Rogue: Rod La Rocque is a very oily pirate

I wasn't really sure what to expect from a movie called The Delightful Rogue. It sounds like a brand of cheap cologne you’d find at a pharmacy or a very bad romance novel.

If you like those creaky, early sound movies where everyone talks like they are trying to wake up a sleeping neighbor, you will have a good time here. It’s a 1929 relic that feels like it’s caught between being a silent film and a stage play.

Most people will probably find it too slow or just plain weird. But for those who love seeing how Hollywood struggled to make pirates talk, it’s worth a look today.

Rod La Rocque plays Lastro, and man, he is something else. The plot summary calls him "oily," and that is honestly the most accurate word I’ve ever heard for a performance.

He’s got this mustache that looks like it was painted on with a very steady hand and a lot of grease. He walks around with this posture that makes him look like he’s constantly posing for a statue that no one asked for.

He’s a pirate, but he doesn't really do much pirating. Mostly, he just sails into Tapit and decides he wants the local singer, Nydra.

Rita La Roy plays Nydra, and she’s actually pretty good in that "I’m tired of this waterfront dive bar" kind of way. She spends a lot of time looking at the men around her like they are all slightly disappointing sandwiches.

The bar itself is great. It’s got that classic Hollywood tropical vibe where you can almost smell the fake sweat and the real dust on the set.

It reminds me a bit of the atmosphere in Alias Jimmy Valentine, where the sets feel just a little too small for the actors. Everyone is constantly bumping into the furniture or standing way too close to each other.

Then there is Harry Beall, played by Charles Byer. Harry is the jealous boyfriend, and he is just exhausting to watch.

He spends the whole movie having what the script calls a "green-eyed frenzy hissy-fit." It’s a lot of yelling and looking very red in the face, which probably worked better on stage than it does on camera.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Delightful Rogue (1929) through its definitive frames.

The main "action" happens when Lastro kidnaps Harry. To get him back, Nydra has to go to Lastro’s cabin on his ship and spend the night there.

Now, this sounds like it’s going to be some big scandalous moment, like something out of The Road to Ruin. But it’s actually the funniest part of the movie because nothing happens.

They just sit there and talk. And talk. And talk some more.

Lastro is trying to be charming, but he mostly just looks like he’s trying to remember his next line. Nydra just looks bored, which is probably how I looked watching this part.

There’s a weird moment where the camera lingers on a bowl of fruit on the table for no reason. It’s like the cinematographer got distracted by a nice orange and forgot there were actors in the room.

The sound quality is pretty rough, too. You can hear the hiss of the early recording equipment, which makes every silence feel heavy and awkward.

It’s not quite as polished as something like Taxi for Two. It feels much more experimental, like they were still figuring out where to hide the microphones.

I noticed one extra in the background of the bar scene who just stares directly into the lens for about three seconds. He looks like he just realized he left his oven on at home. 😳

When Harry finally gets released, he doesn't care that nothing happened in the cabin. He just goes into a complete meltdown because Nydra was there at all.

It’s one of those movie moments where you just want to shake the character and tell him to grow up. Nydra clearly feels the same way, because she just gives up on him entirely.

The ending is pretty abrupt. She just decides to sail away with the oily pirate instead of staying with the screaming boyfriend.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Delightful Rogue (1929) through its definitive frames.

I guess if I had to choose between a pirate who talks too much and a guy who has hissy-fits, I’d take the boat ride too. At least the boat has a nice view of the ocean.

There’s a strange cameo by Lionel Hampton, which feels like it belongs in a completely different movie. He’s just there, and then he’s gone, and no one mentions it again.

It has that disjointed feeling you get in films like Fool, where scenes don't always lead naturally into the next one. It’s more like a series of events that happen to involve the same people.

The costumes are definitely the star of the show here. Rod La Rocque’s pirate outfit is so shiny it probably caused glare issues for the rest of the cast.

It’s a very clean version of piracy. No one has dirt under their fingernails, and the ship looks like it gets scrubbed with soap every twenty minutes.

I wouldn't call this a good movie in the modern sense. It’s more of a curiosity, a little time capsule of a year when movies were trying to find their voice.

If you enjoy watching actors over-enunciate every single syllable, you’ll be in heaven. If you want actual tension or a plot that makes sense, maybe skip it.

It’s definitely better than some of the other fluff from that year, like maybe Her Actor Friend. At least this one has a boat and a mustache to look at.

I did find myself wondering how they filmed the water scenes. There’s a shot of the ship leaving that looks surprisingly real compared to the very fake-looking bar set.

Overall, it’s a bit of a mess, but a charming mess. It’s the kind of thing you watch late at night when you can’t sleep and you want to feel like you’ve traveled back to 1929.

Just don't expect any actual pirating. It’s mostly just a lot of standing around and looking "delightful."