Monday, 10 September 2018

Lulu and Lili, Clara and Curt… Kennington Bioscope Silent Weekender 2018, Day Two


Let’s start at the end with a hi-energy workout from luminous Lili Damita abetted by livewire Curt Bois. Curt is not the leading man in The Golden Butterfly (1926) but he is the one who really clicks with the leading lady both as a dancer – if that is indeed him lifting Lil high and perfectly straight into the air – but especially as characters; eye-rolls and flicks of the hands, the little messages sent by friends amidst the power play around them: these two truly belong in a nightclub, they’re performers and not actors, speaking to us in cabaret-code across the years of dull rom-coms and worthy romantic winners.

Given a choice between marrying uptight restaurateur Andy (Nils Asther) or overly-casual inherited-millionaire Aberdeen (Jack Trevor) I’d pick Bois’ steadfast André Dubois for Lili every time, even if as a best male friend over romance.

Jack Trevor, Lili Damita and Curt Bois
This is the third film Damita made with Michael Curtiz – her lover for a while but never her husband as Curtiz expert Adam Feinstein said in his erudite and informative introduction: there is no evidence the future Mrs Errol Flynn married the future Mr Curtiz when he was simply Manó Kaminer.

The two shared an undoubted creative bond too and this film, along with Red Heels and Cab No. 13 are spectaculars that highlight not just Lili’s extraordinary talent and beauty but also the glamorous world from which she came. The sets are stunning and her dresses jaw-dropping – this is GIF-gold once these films get released in the kind of quality seen in tonight’s 35mm BFI print.

Lili Damita
Based on PG Wodehouse’s short story, The Making of Mac’s, it tells the story of a besotted couple, Andy an undergraduate at Cambridge and Lilian (Lil) who works at his father’s restaurant a rather staid if high-quality eatery. The film was partly filmed in Cambridge and the Cam, railway station and colleges are, of course, largely unchanged.  Sadly, his father dies, and he must quit the dreaming spires for the hard work of running Mac Farland’s restaurant a rather staid but high-quality institution.

Andy finds out that Lilian has been sharpening her dancing skills and, what’s more, attracting the attention of Aberdeen who decides he can turn her into a star after seeing her dance with Bois’ dance-master André Dubois. As her star rises she and Andy separate and she loses herself in the thrill of it all, but she hasn’t forgotten Andy even though he’s desperately trying to forget her.

Personally, I think he’s stubborn and pretty stupid but none of this spoils the Damita-dazzle and this is possibly the best of the trilogy although I’d love to see Red Heels on the big screen with Cyrus Gabrysch’s spirited accompaniment.

Swinging Curt Bois
Before this, ace-programmer Michelle Facey talked us through the career of Curt Bois with clips from Wings of Desire, Casablanca (another Curtiz of course) and a screening of Patent Glue a short comedy he made in 1909: his career was even longer than Lillian Gish’s – officially the longest in cinema history. A high-impact character actor who never starred but always added flavour as in the above film where he’s the only one really on Lili Damita’s wavelength.

That was the finale, but we have five other sessions on Day Two, as, according to the Bioscope’s master projectionist Dave Locke, more film was projected than ever before including 10 features and many, many shorts.

Lois Wilson, cowed as Lulu
Miss Lulu Bett (1921), with Meg Morley

This immediately jumped to the top of the weekend’s charts with a superb performance from Lois Wilson in the lead and smooth direction from everyone’s third-favourite de Mille… William ranking behind his brother Cecil and then his daughter Agnes according to Amran Vance’s introduction.

In its own quite way it’s as powerful as anything we saw with a story featuring Wilson as the titular Lulu, the family drudge, run down by the domineering master of the house, her sister’s husband Dwight (Theodore Roberts) who brooks no challenges from his wife or his two young daughters.

Everyone has written Lulu off – destined for spinsterhood and chained to the household chores. Lois Wilson is a revelation; emoting in an understated way and carrying a lot of subtle meaning. She becomes accidentally married to her tormentor’s brother Ninian (Clarence Burton) – Dwight, somehow not surprisingly, is both a liar and a Justice of the Peace… and, whilst Ninian is sincere it turns out that he’s already married, and life threatens to get a whole lot worse.

Yet Lulu discovers new depths: “The only thing I’ve got left is my pride and you’ve got to let me keep that…” and she works upwards from there. As the poet said, you’ve got to hope for the best and that’s the best you can hope for and Lulu Betts does not disappoint.

Also flourishing was Meg Morley on piano accompanying with deft flourishes of jazz-age melancholy.


The Silent Enemy (1930) with Lillian Henley

A change of pace now with one of the best-looking films of the weekend, directed by H.P. Carver and set in the Canadian Northwest, where the Chippewa tribe struggles to find food before the onset of winter in the time before the coming of the white man.  The enemy in question is hunger and there’s a documentary feel as the tribe and their animals go in search of caribou to secure their future. The cinematography of Marcel Le Picard is breath-taking.

The cast was largely native American including Chief Yellow Robe (Chetoga, tribe leader), Chief Akawanush and Molly Spotted Elk (Molly Dellis) The rather strapping Chief Buffalo Child Long Lance (Baluk, mighty hunter) was actually Sylvester Clark Long an African American but it matters not especially if you can carry off a loin cloth like he can! He’s a fascinating character in his own right as are the others: given cinema’s history of black-face/fake-race this film deserves credit for authenticity.

The writer Robert E Sherwood summed things up better than I can: “High on the list of the cinema’s nobler achievements are the names of Nanook, Grass, Stark Love and Chang. Now there is another picture to be added to the distinguished list – The Silent Enemy. It is beautiful, it is superbly acted, and in many of its scenes tremendously exciting. It is a permanent, eloquent record of a race that is vanishing from the earth. Don’t fail to see it.”


Dancing Mothers (1926), with Cyrus Gabrysch

There is no hierarchy of “It” you either have it or you don’t but there’s something about Clara Bow that fills the heart with superior levels of joy; it’s partly human pattern recognition as you react to an unconscious display of emotion but it’s also a recognition of one of the best actors in cinema. I don’t mean technically but I do mean naturally, and Clara Bow can radiate in my general direction every day.

She doesn’t steal this picture from Alice Joyce, who is superb technically and emotionally, but you find it hard to ignore Clara whenever she’s on screen. In the end, though, the narrative forces Alice centre stage and in an unexpected way…

It’s an interesting film not just for its emerging star and Alice Joyce shows what a fine dramatist she was: a very professional job all round, high-quality generational comedy that asks, once again, if parents are really people.

The Emporia Gazette described Clara Bow as “a real little modern." Which I think is undeniable.

Bobbie Rudd with Johnny Butt - his "adopted" dad and Tom Coventry. Harry Green on the right.
Messing about on the river: films from the banks of the Thames with Lillian Henley and Meg Morley

Bryony Dixon, curator of silent film at the BFI introduced a series of shorts and a feature all based on Old Father Thames.

Lieutenant Lilly and the Splodge of Opium (UK 1913) was off its head years before Fairbanks’ Coke Ennyday whilst Broken in the Wars (UK 1918) was more serious being about a charity scheme to help veterans start their own business. It featured Henry Edwards and Chrissie White who was in most things at the time.

Trips and Tribunals (UK 1918) starred Lupino Lane and was a whole mess of tribulations. Up the River with Molly (UK 1921) sounded like a throw-back to Sparrows (Mary Pickford’s character Molly escaping up the river…) but it was far gentler following a man and his dog (yay!) on a trip up the Thames. The Haunted Hotel (UK 1918) is part of a series of Kinekature Komedies using a special lens to create distortion: gimme another splodge of opium maan!

The finale was Sam’s Boy (UK 1922) with Lillian Henley on excellent, sparkling form. Directed by Manning Haynes and starring the legendary Johnny Butt – and a host of increasingly familiar faces on location around the Thames Estuary and along the Kent coast and there were docks and old pubs too… I was transported by an admitedly daft tale about a boy named Billy who adopts the ship's captain (Butt) as his father.

Again, this section was presented with support from the AHRC project ‘British Silent Cinema and the Transition to Sound’ and of the British Silent Film Festival.


Turksib (1929) Costas Fotopoulos

Now for a real change of pace and Viktor Alexandrovitsh Turin extraordinarily rhythmic “propagandist” documentary about the building of the Turkestan–Siberia Railway. The editing and cutting are mesmerising, and Turin manages to create such momentum by selecting images of things happened or about to happen: it’s rapid-fire and grabs the viewer from the first few cuts before leaving you exhausted and rather pleased that they completed the 1445 miles construction “on time.”

This was also due to a positively Stakhanovite contribution from Costas who, even though he hadn’t seen the film before, piled in cluster after cluster of artful arpeggios and fluid, fast playing never once running out of crescendos!

And then onto our grand finale with Lili and Curt.

A superb weekend and, knowing how hard the organisers, helpers, Cinema Museum staff and all the contributors work I don’t take anything for granted. As Neil Brand said during his introduction on Saturday this is a fantastic event and we are so lucky to be able to celebrate silent film in this way.

It is the Silver Age of Silent Film and it continues in just two days with Au Bonheur des Dames (1930): details on the website!


2 comments:

  1. Thanks Paul. First time I have ever been confused with Tony Fletcher though - Amran

    ReplyDelete