REFLECTIONS: MAE CLARKE ON PUBLIC ENEMY

One of the most iconic film scenes is when Jimmy Cagney shoves the grapefruit in actress Mae Clarke's face in 1931's The Public Enemy. Here is a story about the famous scene in Mae's own words...

I didn’t want to do that, but all I had done to meet the new man and be at the new studio and work with Wellman was all out the window if I said no. I’d be a lemon. So I knew I had to do it. The only thing I could have done is get my agent on the phone and let him be the one to say no. But I couldn’t get to a phone. Jimmy [Cagney] was sitting right there and being very persuasive.

I said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll do it– once. I’ll trust you not to hurt me, and that’s all. Just for the guys. Okay.” So that’s what we did, and we did it just once. Didn’t hurt me. […]

After I left the studio I drove myself alone and held myself in. I got to my house and then I was no longer Mae the actress. Home meant Mother and Dad and my brother and sister. So home was very protective to me, and they all liked me a lot. mother opened the door and said, “Oh, good, I’ve got so-and-so for dinner.” And I said, “Mother,” and put my head on her shoulder and broke down crying. She said, “Why, darling, what’s the matter?” She patted me and said, “Oh, now, it can’t be that bad.” She was a great soother, which helped me to cry more.

I said, “Mother, something happened today that I will never, ever, get over. It will be part of my life from now on. It’s going to hurt all the time, and I couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted everybody to like me and I wanted to be a good sport and I wanted to work with Mr. Cagney again because awfully good. He’s going to be a great star; they all say so.”

I told her. And she, of course, knew exactly what to do. She told me: “That’s not the end of the world. You’ve had worse than that.” Without putting me down about it, she put it just in the right tempo to get me to stop crying and come on in and sit down and have a good meal and give me diversion.

Now my father was always in on things without my telling him. He was busy doing something, but he was listening. He just went quietly to the piano and played things like “A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody.” He consoled me through the piano, and I knew it. That was the way he talked to me. And I loved it. The things that always got me well were Daddy’s music and Mother’s soup. Those were surefire. People still ask me, “Do you think that scene, with all the longevity it’s had, has helped you or hurt you?” I think I’ll leave it to you and movie fans on what I think...