She done us right; comedic movie star Mae West was addressing such then-provocative material as intercourse, homosexuality, drag queens and prostitution in the 1920s

IN LIGHT OF THE CURRENT FCC campaign to crack down on TV indecency, one cannot help but wonder what Chairman Kevin Martin would have made of the incomparable Mae West, the film legend whose comically sexy axioms ("When women go wrong, men go right after them.") helped bring about the cinema censorship code of 1934.

Just who or what was Mae West? She most resembled a female impersonator ... with the verbal wit of Oscar Wilde. Armed with this repartee, West transformed a small, pleasantly plump, over 40 physical form into an inspired parody of sex. Like many of her contemporaries, from Will Rogers to the Marx Brothers, she came to sound films with an established persona, honed from years of stage work. Also like many of these fellow funnymen, especially Groucho Marx and W.C. Fields, her older, cynical, world-wise screen character matched the harsh climate of the Depression. This was in marked contrast to the youthfully innocent and naive screen clowns of the silent era, such as Harry Langdon, Harold Lloyd, and Buster Keaton.

Like film comedians of all eras, however, her persona began with an iconically comic physical presence. A steamy, or was that seamy, figure poured into that hourglass gown, she accented all the "merchandise" with the most come-hither shimmying strut found on the silver screen. Yet, her sashay was provocatively slow, which paralleled the message of her merriment--savor the sensual, be it the West walk, or the sex act itself. After all, one of her signature songs featured in "She Done Him Wrong" heavily praises "A Guy What lakes His Time." (Along related--but paradoxical--lines, for a sensual spooler of all things sexual, her elaborate period gowns made her the most covered-up of provocative performers.)

West's deliberately dainty style, moreover, further accented the sexual parody heart of her act--a titillating tease to a pay-off that 1930s censorship laws never would allow. This slowly methodical pacing also differentiates West from most of her comedy contemporaries. For example, the nervous antiheroic persona of Eddie Cantor was complemented by his helter-skelter dance steps whenever he sang one of his novelty songs. Groucho's bent-over, loping gait always was performed in fast-forward mode, as if to accent his driven nature to comically dominate. Of her fellow 1930s comedy legends, only W.C. Fields, her later "My Little Chickadee" (1940) co-star, matched West's drawn-out deliberate style. In fact, like West, Fields' leisurely lingering nature often was about the language, but whereas she pushed her speech towards sexual innuendo, Fields' overstated verbiage was an end in itself.

West's application of a slower pacing also tit with her propensity to set her screen stories during the 1890s, a seemingly more languid period. Of course, every era probably is equally hectic for its participants, although the looking backwards filter of time often creates a nostalgic mindset that invariably pronounces this to have been a simpler time. Despite Paramount's surprising initial reluctance about the marketability of an 1890s story, this was an era which had been rediscovered in the decade prior to "She Done Him Wrong." West biographer Jill Watts observes: "By the mid-twenties, the country was in the midst of a gay-nineties revival. Several turn-of-the-century productions enjoyed new runs on Broadway. Books about the period sold well. Images of the 1890s appeared throughout American culture."

One could argue that, with the exception of Charlie Chaplin, who dominated every aspect of his productions (writing, directing, producing, and even composing the music, as well as starring), West creatively dominated her film productions more than any other 1930s comedy star. Naturally, she benefited from competent craftsmen, and probably her best film after the creation of the censorship code, "Belle of the Nineties" (1934), was megaphoned by the talented Leo McCarey. Still, during West's 1930s heyday, she largely was a product of her own scripts which, in turn, often were drawn from plays she had written in the 1920s, such as "Diamond Lil." Besides Chaplin and West, the only other major screen co median of that era who even occasionally provided the original story or script for his feature films was Fields.

While West's entertainment roots dated from early in the 20th century, she came into her own by authoring the following series of controversial stage productions: "Sex" (1926), "The Drag" (1927), "The Wicked Age" (1927), "Diamond Lil" (1928), "Pleasure Man" (1928), and "The Constant Sinner" (1931). Addressing such then-provocative material as intercourse, homosexuality, drag queens, and prostitution, these eye-opening properties not only got her noted, an obscenity charge even resulted in a short West jail term for "Sex." However, as she observed in 1927, after threats of censorship by the normally flee-spirited New York City Mayor Jimmy Walker forced "The Drag" to close out of town, "Every knock is a boost. It makes me better known." West definitely was a student of the old axiom, "There is no bad publicity, as long as they spell your name correctly." Though she would anchor her screen persona largely upon the title character of "Diamond Lil," the sexually contentious aura that surrounded the multitasking West initially was fueled by all these properties. Thus, by the time she entered film, she already was something of a legend.