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The general story is familiar, perhaps even predictable, to anyone who has ever read about child stars, but seldom has it been told with such intimacy and immediacy. Few people can ever have reflected on the fate of child stars as thoroughly as Cary, or had as much reason to do so, and her unique insight gives the film a vibrancy few documentaries about silent cinema can match. There is no one else alive able to articulate the experiences she discusses.
To her, Baby Peggy is another human being, a role she performed, to be spoken about in the third person. This is unsurprising, given the gulf between the infant who was onscreen in the 1920s and the elderly woman who looks back at her from the 21st Century. But what is surprising is that she thought of Baby Peggy as a separate person even when she was a child. Even at four-years-old she knew the responsibilities attached to playing Baby Peggy, onscreen and in life, and she knew that made her something more, and something less, than a child. "I thought I was a grown-up," she says. "I knew I was the breadwinner."
Forty years later, looking at her young son, she felt surges of resentment towards him because he was simply sitting and playing on the floor of their house. Why, she wanted to demand of him, was he not out working? The psychological cost of being Baby Peggy was severe.