Dogs and Alligators… Kennington Bioscope Silent Weekender 2018, Day One

There’s a grand tradition of animal acting at the Bioscope and this third silent “weekender” carried this on in some style: two different dogs, a host (a “pool”?) of alligators as well as hair: not a hare, just hair but it’s close enough for my quality control.

Day One also featured maestro John Sweeney playing for four programmes and largely for films he hadn’t seen; the fact that he played four completely different and yet seamlessly compelling improvised scores says it all. It is not possible to take this for granted, and I am applauding as I type: bravo Mr Sweeney!

A candid shot on the set of Where the North Begins...

Where the North Begins (USA 1923), with John Sweeney

I’m not that big on dog-led features, the scars of Disney’s Old Yeller run deep; borderline child cruelty in my book from a company clearly with form (c.f. Bambi and many more…) but Rin Tin Tin is a German Shepherd with attitude and the fine-chiselled profile of a classic leading hound.

Directed by Chester M. Franklin, Where the North Begins, features many heroic moments from the dog du jour including wolf-battling, taking down obvious wrong-uns, even if they escape and an astonishing range of learned behaviours. This dog not only works out that humans are his friends and not the wolves he was raised by, he also calculates the correct speed and trajectory to leap through a window in order to save innocents from bad-guy assault.

The film was projected from a gorgeous tinted Kodascope print and was very enjoyable including fine performances from human side-kicks Claire Adams and Fred Huntley and some excellent hand-held camerawork showing sleigh rides, men on horseback and more. Abel Gance (probably) was going to cast a Golden Retriever in Napoleon but the insurance premiums were prohibitive, and a suitable fee could not be arranged with the dog’s people…

Nice hair... Gertrud Welcker

Die Geliebte Tote (When the Dead Are Living Again) (Germany 1919)

This film featured Gertrud Welcker in three and possibly four roles and Director Erwin Báron as a man who just can’t get her hair out of his head.

It’s pretty rum I have to say but striking all the same. Based on an 1893 novel by George Roenbach it became an opera and then finally a film. There may be elements missing but what we have is early-Weimar Gothic which mixes the real with the dreamt.

Axel Törnberg (Erwin Báron) is an artist visiting a fishing village where he meets and falls in love with local lass, Ingeborg Sunvall (Gertrud Welcker) who he starts to paint obsessively. Báron shows the painting as a still of Welcker which adds to the oddness: she/it looks pretty finished to me but the artist clearly thinks otherwise.

The two marry but Dagmar dies in childbirth leaving Axel distraught and hanging on to a lengthy cut of her hair as a means of maintaining their connection. Some time later he meets an opera singer who is the absolute spit of his late wife (played, naturally by Gertrud Welcker) … he starts to get her to pose as he attempts to complete the painting of Ingeborg but, now insane with jealousy as well as everything else, strangles the singer with Ingeborg’s hair.

He ends up in a lunatic asylum for ten years where – and it might be just me on this – one of the burses also looks a lot like Ingeborg/Opera singer. If true, this will not be the last role played by the hard-working Gertrud in a story that questions the nature of Alex’s reality and much more besides.

Is this the real life or is it just fantasy…? I’m not sure but I enjoyed every Germanic moment and Mr Sweeney took it all in his inimitable stride.

Guy Newall worries about his looks.

The Garden of Resurrection (UK 1919) with John Sweeney

It was time for a British silent film, this one directed by Arthur Rooke and starring Guy Newall and Ivy Duke. Guy was a witness at Maurice Elvey’s wedding, according to Elvey-expert Dr Lucie Dutton, proving the rule of Three Degrees of Maurice Elvey and the close links of the domestic scene were every bit as close as in the US or Sweden. A tight-knit group that produced increasingly-worthwhile films despite the War and competition from abroad.

Dr Lawrence Napper, author and Senior Lecturer in Film Studies at Kings College London is another champion of British silent film and he introduced this deliberate but highly enjoyable tale of renewal. As with the German film, the immense backstory of the Great War cannot be ignored and here was another character in search of new belief.

A contemporary review in the Hawick News and Border Chronicle was enthused, describing the film as … something more than entertainment. It is a restorative, perhaps a cure, for people who have lost faith in human kindness, who are ready to believe that all life is ugly.

The lead character, Bellairs (played by Guy Newall) is convinced that he is ugly and heads off to Ballysheen in Ireland to “recuperate” with his dog (played superbly by Newall’s actual dog) who, unlike the more physically-showy Rin Tin Tin, gets his own intertitles meaning that we see his thoughts!

Despite this load of old Bonio, the story is essentially serious as Bellairs becomes fascinated by a woman of mixed race, Clarissa (Ivy Duke) who is held virtual prisoner by her mean aunts who are ensuring she falls victim to Cruickshank (Franklin Dyall) a fortune hunter. Clarissa won’t believe in Bellairs’ warnings and even calls him ugly – which the truth can be more than the man perhaps.

There’s some great scenery with Cornwall doubling for Ireland and once again John Sweeney played a blinder. Humberson Wright also popped up as the local bore, desperate to tell anyone about Queen Victoria’s visit whether they want to hear it or not.

Newall and Duke were very much the Beckhams of their day with Dr Napper venturing that nowadays they’d be concatenated to “Guvy”: I think that one’s got to stick, don’t you?

We watched a 16mm print from the BFI National Archive and the screening was enabled with support from the AHRC project ‘British Silent Cinema and the Transition to Sound’ and of the British Silent Film Festival. This is a skip year for that Festival but this entertaining film gave me wistful thoughts of Leicester 2019. Roll on…

The Mighty Pearl White

Pearl White: A Cliffhanging Life, presented by Glenn Mitchell and Michael Pointon.

“You want some pluck? You can’t handle the pluck!” as Jack Nicholson has not so far said to his President… We have #fakenews but you simply can’t #fakeperformers like Pearl White.

Now Pearl’s a swinger and she’s frequently damned with the faint praise of being “plucky” but this hard-working, chance-taking gal worked her chances well and did most of her own stunts inspiring the likes of Lloyd and Keaton when they could only dream of her success.

Glenn Mitchell and Michael Pointon took turns in relating Pearl’s story whilst Mr Sweeney accompanied the clips. Pearl’s real name was White, Pearl White and she was a genuine phenomenon we should treasure what remains of her startling legacy even whilst wishing there could be more. She seemed very smart, beautiful and adventurous and it’s fascinating how her fame came at this point in history.

The suffrage movement was undoubtedly impressed. Reality quotient: high.

Her Night of Romance (USA 1924) with Neil Brand

Neil Brand accompanied this film – which he hadn’t seen – in the style of a Leo McCarey 1930’s screwball comedy and nailed it perfectly! There were times when I could swear I heard Ronald Coleman and Constance Talmadge talk and they were a perfect match.

It’s a close-run thing but seeing “Dutch” Talmadge (her mother thought she looked like a Dutch schoolboy… go figure?) on screen finally edged her into Number One position on the Favourite Talmadge League. That said, I’d have to see Norma’s hilarious Kiki – also with Coleman - to be conclusive.

Younger sister Constance is spell-binding in this film as is Ronald to be fair, but he doesn’t have her huge expressive eyes and comic energy. For this film she is billed as the star, but Ron’s time would come even with his markedly smaller eyes and his moustache.

She plays Dorothy Adams, unwilling heiress to daddy Samuel C. Adams’ (Albert Gran) immense fortune, who has had enough of men fancying her money and not her moxie – if that’s not rude? Enter Ronald as Paul Menford a Lord on his uppers who makes the mistake of joking with his attorney (Jean Hersholt: never joke with Jean) that he’ll give him 10% if he married her.

This is never Paul’s intention and a classic rom-com back and forth ensues. It’s made worthwhile by the excellent performances and Sidney Franklin’s smart direction: this was the feelgood hit of the day!

Sparrows (USA 1926) with Costas Fotopoulos

It was time for American Gothic, a trip to a baby farm somewhere in the swampy South for what Ernst Lubitsch described as "...one of the eight wonders of the World..."

Sparrows is influenced by European cinema – Mary and Doug had visited the UFA studios in 1925 - but was also influential with art director Harry Oliver also working on films with FW Murnau and Frank Borzage and, famously, cameramen Charles Rosher and Karl Struss both later winning Oscars for their cinematography on Sunrise.

Director William Beaudine turns Oliver’s incredible swamp-stage into a world of mysticism and dread as children on a baby farm (yes, they did exist) are abused by Gustav von Seyffertitz’ Dickensian horror, Mr Grimes a man who’s answer to most things is to just drop them in the swamp and let then be sucked into oblivion.

Mary is 34 by this point and her Molly is a child-woman grown-older though her responsibilities as de-facto mother for the unfortunate waifs around her, including babies, whereas in A Beast at Bay (1912), the DW Griffith short screened before this main feature, Mary is 20-going on 16. It’s always an issue for modern audiences but in Sparrows it’s the fear that matters. Producer Pickford knew exactly what she wanted and put Beaudine under such pressure that falling ill he could not complete with the un-credited Tom McNamara finishing off the story, no doubt with Mary’s help.

It’s a film with hidden messages and as Amran Vance pointed out in his introduction, may even provide and allegory for the repeal of slavery with, for example, the hymn in Molly’s dream of her dead baby, also featured in Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Molly leads the children to safety through impossibly dangerous swampland; sinking sand and alligators added to by a mad dog and hoodlums… she may be pointing the way forward for many more.

Costas Fotopoulos played up a storm and left the audience on a high after a full day.

The only “worry” I have is that, if anything, Sunday looks even better… Bring it on!