Saturday, 10 October 2020

Swimming with films… A Romance of the Redwoods (1917) with Donald Sosin and Joanna Seaton, Pordenone Day Seven


Boys - I reckon when twenty men have been fooled by one small woman - - they'd better take their medicine!


There’s so much to relish in a restored Mary Pickford feature from her peak period; she’s the only person you watch when she’s on screen and runs through the numbers with all the ease of a virtuoso effortlessly emoting and impenetrably in character whether she’s scrubbing laundry, fighting for her life or just in the moments between sadness and resolve. She had what biographer Eileen Whitfield described as “a fountain of feelings” for the camera even if Cecil B DeMille wanted to influence them more than most.


Director DeMille clearly constructed A Romance of the Redwoods to allow its star to shine as often as possible although their relationship was not a straightforward one, one immovable the other unstoppable. Pickford later complained that she thought Cecil was a great producer but she didn’t think he had “any heart”, even though, she corrected, she “loved him”. Dwarfed by her director’s vision as much as the redwoods and the rest of its male cast – almost to a man six feet plus versus Mary’s five feet nothing – Mary gives a powerfully controlled performance and still shines through dominating everything and everybody.


The Queen


For his part DeMille was pleased with the results and accepted that, following the merger of Famous Players with Jesse L. Lasky’s Feature Play Company, it was difficult for his star to surrender her usual control over script and writer but she carried on like the “trouper” – his word – she was allowing him to be the director-producer he was. Today we can watch the result of both troupers’ output and, in spite of an outlandish scenario, the results are a delight especially given a crystal clear restoration that even on my old Dell Ultrabook look fantastic: you can almost sense the reality of the filming, the smell of redwoods, the dusty sets, Mary inwardly glowering at another instruction she was just going to ignore. In fairness, DeMille gives her plenty of close-ups and she was always ready!


DeMille co-wrote with Jeanie Macpherson and the story was Pickford’s first western set among the Californian redwoods during the 49ers goldrush. Mary plays Jenny Lawrence, a young woman sent out to live with her uncle John after the death of her mother but who ends up with less than she bargained for. A stage robber called “Black” Brown (Elliott Dexter) who, as with Smith and Jones “never killed none” during his crimes, has traded places with her uncle after he died a heroic death trying to fend off an Apache attack. Black is mean but he isn’t a wanton killer, disarming his partner in crime, after he tries to cheat him out of their ill-gotten gains.


Elliott Dexter, Mary Pickford and Charles Ogle

Jenny duly arrives after an arduous journey to find her fake Uncle but has little choice but play along, penniless and friendless as Black proves by taking her to the saloon where not a single drunken miner or cowboy will listen to her story and she’s treated as a little joke by the brassy lasses singing and serving. Tully Marshall is at the bar as Sam Sparks, always a good sign, and there’s a sheriff for hire played by Walter Lang as well as a young man, Dick, played by Raymond Hatton who is the only one close to Mary’s height.


Jim Lyn (Charles Ogle) is the most sympathetic of the townsfolk and befriends the niece of the man they all think is John Lawrence. He’s key to the softening of tone as Jenny starts to tidy up Black’s house and attempts to get him to go straight after discovering one of his handkerchief’s with four mysterious holes in them, cue a nice moment as realisation creeps across her face as she lifts the folded kerchief to her face and sees they’re eyeholes.


Lost in the woods


Jenny takes in laundry and there’s a lovely scene with her scrubbing away against the backdrop of the giant redwoods. Jim comes to talk to her and she defends her deadbeat “Uncle” when he talks against him, little knowing that Black overhears her. The improbable seems to be happening as Jenny and Black fall in love and the latter seems willing to toil away prospecting. But searching for gold is hard work and maybe just one last “job” will set them up for a brighter future; what could possibly go wrong?


Donald Sosin accompanied with some gorgeous melodies and well-worked themes that strode hand-in-hand with performers and narrative. He also drafted in Joanna Seaton to provide vocals adding atmosphere to scenes in the saloon and neatly inputting context to the gold rush and western setting. Vocals as part of silent accompaniment can by high risk but for some reason they seem to work best with westerns, perhaps because they are so much apart of the cinematic musical landscape for so much of this genre?



Talking of musical landscapes, there was another excellent masterclass on Day Seven, this time featuring The Three Multi-instrumentalists, Frank Bockius, Günter Buchwald and Stephen Horne. Günter plays violin as well as piano, sometimes mind-bogglingly at the same time, Frank plays a whole range of percussion and Stephen flute, accordion, bells and whistles along with keyboards. The question is how do they make their choices for accompaniment?


Günter, who started silent piano accompaniment in the late 70s, first used violin in 1984, when playing for The Princess and the Violin Player, which featured a character playing a Bruch Violin Concerto. The second instrument was not only used diegetically, but to create different atmospherics and he could also bow or pluck whilst hands playing the piano too.


Stephen started using the flute to add different sonority to his accompaniment to add colour and develop atmospherics. Whilst being an advocate for single instrument accompaniment there’s a danger as a solo pianist that you play as many notes as possible so it’s very restful on the ear to play a single line on another instrument.


Günter Buchwald, Stephen Horne and Frank Bockius


Frank observed that both violin and flute are voice-like instruments and you can modulate the tone in subtler ways than an actual voice which can be dangerous as it captures so much attention from the audience and the violin and flute are a bit more neutral. Frank has to plan his use of “bells and whistles” more carefully as they are less neutral and more reliant on narrative rhythm.


Talking of the dangers, Stephen that one player playing too many instruments that can take the audience out of the film; there needs to be restraint and logic to the choice. Günter having studied the semiotics of silent film music referred to one quote from a 20’s review that said they couldn’t be sure if there had been music or not… and so there’s a delicate balance to be made between scoring over the film and being heard to come from without it. All are well aware of this need but also, as Stephen said, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the occasional moment of showmanship… it’s good to remind the audience they they’re seeing a live performance.”


Günter shares his notes...

These musicians not only play multiple instruments they also play together and this is another art that requires deliberation and patience. Frank talked about the adaptation required; “For a percussionist from the classical area you miss a written score and from jazz you start a rhythm but the film changes and you need to be ready to stop as you’d overrun the action of the atmosphere: listening is the key as always.”


When playing with a trio Günter will leave the lower keys alone so his bassist can occupy that space and Stephen agreed saying that the “space” should always be there and that there’s no imperative to play all of the time. Listening is the most important thing and not to be afraid of dropping out to let the other musician(s) carry on if you feel your lines are crossing.


Frank highlighted that trust and familiarity with the others’ playing were key and also that someone has to lead to provide improvised musical direction. Stephen described Frank as “almost like another piano player, I’m aware that he’s interpreting the film which is quite unusual.” The two talked about their marvellous accompaniment to Lupu Pick’s Sylvester (1923) under the stars at last year’s Cinema Ritrovato in Bologna. Frank would lead and it worked with because of the film’s speed and frequent cutting.


Sylvester aka New Years Eve


Despite the stress of this successful experiment Frank summed up the process as: “we swim with the film and we have to make interesting waves for the audience…”


Following the pattern of the films is key for any player coming from jazz, whose instinct is to play with 4/4 or other regular rhythm when you need to adjust to the uneven pace of the film and not be metronomic. Stephen had also been unsure about playing with other melodic instruments but is finding a way to do it using a cue sheet approach so you’ve pre-planned out the film in order to prevent thematic clashes. He may also work with one notated theme that you can both return to during the film. This is certainly an approach that has worked well whenever I’ve seen him play with Elizabeth Jane Baldry and her harp.


So, be prepared, pay attention and listen but also be supremely talented would be my biggest take-aways. This session could have gone on all day as far as I’m concerned and thankyou to all the players for their masterclasses as well as accompaniment this week.


More Mary...



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