Willy Haas, Film-Kurier
(no. 277, 14 December 1920)
If Der Gang In Die
Nacht (Love’s Mockery) was
Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau’s only film we’d probably rate it a bit higher than we
are able to in the context of his later work. All the same I was surprised at its
controlled composition and feel although it varies in tone from comedy to
weird.
For me this is a better film than say The Haunted Castle from the following
year but that could also be down to the uncanny presence of Conrad Veidt who’s
eyes, hands and, indeed forehead… are transfixing throughout. Murnau makes the
most of his gaunt asset from the get-go when he arrives by boat, standing tall
with sightless eyes, seeing more than we know… a foretaste of Count Orlac on
the ship.
Doctor Eigil Börne (Olaf Fønss) is engaged to doe-eyed Helene
(Erna Morena, her out of Von morgens bis
mitternachts), until he gets distracted by the charms of music-hall performer
Lilly (Gudrun Bruun-Stefenssen) who, by combining charm with a faked ankle
injury manages to get her man. The Doctor quits his promising city work and
becomes a GP in a remote costal area far away from the tattling tongues of the metropolitan
elite…
At first all is well and the two love-birds enjoy healthy
walks and jokes about feet until, that is, the dramatic appearance of Conrad as
Der Maler – an artist who has gone blind and is seeking a cure from the
remarkable country doctor.
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| As usual the promotions team got carried away... give him two years and he'll scare you alright! |
The sequences showing the return of Maler’s sight are very
effective and once the artist can see again he’s drawn to natural beauty all
around including Lilly who, to be fair, has also more than noticed him. Now…
this can’t go well for the three of them and we shouldn’t really forget poor
Helene wasting away back in Berlin.
The narrative lets the film down but the atmospherics eventually
win through as passions are stirred, the doctor performs miracles and love does
indeed make fools of them all. Veidt stands out, natürlich, but this is still a well-shot film if not a “complete”
single-vision… yet it’s now one that has been stunningly well-restored. And I
mean stunning!
Richard Siedhoff accompanied with elegance and edge and also enjoyed himself with Der Golem (detailed below).
We also watched:
a third collection of Nasty Women
including the gloriously kick-ass Texas Guignan.
Harry Solter’s The
Taming of Jane (1910) featured an odd courting ritual involving a cowboy
trying to lasso his intended into forced matrimony… maybe they’d been inspired
by Asta Nielsen’s dance in Afgrunden
or maybe this was indeed the norm in the land of the free? Then again, as with
all the films in this delightful strand, the women are smarter than the men. Which
is not difficult someone said...
George Le Soir’s An
Up-to-date Squaw (1911) was another victory for les girls this time with a
fashion-conscious squaw who can’t resist westernising her wardrobe…
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| The Taming of Jane (1910) |
Texas Guignan brought the house down in Jay Hunt’s The Night Rider (1920) when, deciding
she needs to take a husband to help prevent cattle rustlers, she lassoes one
chap only to then find a much better option: “wish I’d seen you first!” she exclaimed
and half the audience laughed!
I like Texas a lot and she is so assured in her
characterisation and whip smart in delivery; this was a delight with a plot
that served its sense of humour well.
The Circus Imps
(1920) was surely an inspiration for Todd Browning as two cheeky girls run away
to the circus and hang out with the freak show. The Dog-Faced Boy is shocking
but no more so than when the two kids – Katherine and Jane Lee - share a bath
and a pot of jam!? Not in our house they didn’t!
Neil Brand was our compositional cowboy and he corralled
this feisty herd with the practiced poise of William S Hart himself.
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| The Duel After the Masquerade by Jean-Léon Gérôme |
Tableaux Vivants was a fascinating experiment and one of the most delightfully
immersive experiences of the week so far. Valentine Robert has spent years
collating film sequences that are based on artworks from the religious work of
Gustav Dore (natch!) and James Tissot to recreations of historical scenes such
as Archibald Willard’s The Spirit of ’76
(c. 1875) and the Assassinat de Jean-Paul
Marat by Charlotte Corday (engraved in 1793).
The paintings inspired films which then inspired other
films and the visual language became passed down morphing from its illustrative
origins to more cinematic copying: Alphonse de Neuville’s Franco-Prussian War painting,
Les Dernières Cartouches (1873), was
the basis for scenes in films by Lumière (1897), Méliès (1897), Pathé (1899), Gaumont
(1898 and 1907).
Of course, “art” always provided and excuse for showing a
nudity and the film of the 1900s embraced that as new media always does.
Stephen Horne improvised with great subtlety and variety
through these various scenarios. This was no gentle picture show, there’s an
impact and edge to some of this art which still challenges.
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| Duel after the Ball (1908) |
One of the treats of the week was also a restoration of Heinrich
Galeen’s Der Golem (1915) or at least
what remains of a film thought lost until the recent discovery of the second
reel. It is very similar to the 1920 version and Paul Wegener’s costume and
menace are tantalisingly in place but there are differences in setting – this is
the modern world and an altogether different “origin”.
The film is not complete – just 24 precious minutes but,
as with the Murnau and Now We’re in the
Air we have something!
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| Der Golem brings something new to the party. |
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