Showing posts with label Alice Guy Blaché. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alice Guy Blaché. Show all posts

Wednesday, 30 June 2021

Being natural... Solax - The House Built by Alice Guy Blaché, KB TV, Women & Silent Screen Online



“There is nothing connected with the staging of a motion picture that a woman cannot do as easily as a man, and there is no reason she cannot master every technicality of the art... “Alice Guy-Blaché in The Moving Picture World, July 11, 1914.


This was some undertaking, a collaboration between the Kennington Bioscope and the Women & Silent Screen Online Conference, that featured nine of serial ground-breaker Guy Blaché’s films as writer, director and producer for Solax Films. As noted by the Bioscope’s Michelle Facey, the French woman was the only woman owner of a film studio at the time and she remains the only woman to have occupied this position over a century later which is remarkable and depressing in equal measure.


Guy Blaché made her own way, from inventing narrative film making to helping establish the studio system that would eventually help displace her in mainstream history. According to The New York Dramatic Mirror, by 1912 she was drawing an annual income of between $50-60,000 – some salary in modern terms and allowing for inflation a measure of her success. Whilst few with an interest in silent film would not be aware of her work, she is now emerging more fully from the shadows, as she becomes the subject of more academic research, restoration and a widespread critical rebirth. Her inclusion on Kino and the BFI’s early women filmmakers’ anthologies, Pamela B. Green’s revelatory biography, Be Natural (2018) and a new ARTE French documentary, Alice Guy, Pioneer of the 7th Art, Forgotten by History from directors Nathalie Masduraud and Valérie Urrea, all contribute to this growth in awareness of her contribution and influence.


And still the only one...

The stream was an online equivalent of “A Solax Night”, curated by Kim Tomadjoglou from the Library of Congress who had a number of films on show along with the BFI, Eye Filmmuseum, George Eastman Museum and Lobster Films. It was hosted by Michelle Facey, KBTV’s regular compere and featured introductions by Tomadjoglou; Allison Farrell and Tami Williams, University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee (who helped co-ordinate), and the LOC restoration team, Heather Linville (Lab Supervisor), Frank Wylie (Head Lab Timer), Lynanne Schweighofer (Preservation Specialist), and George Willeman (Nitrate Vault Leader) who talked about the dream job of restoring Alice’s films.


Their efforts were much appreciated as we were able to sense for ourselves the ability and appeal of Guy Blaché’s American films, after she and husband Herbert, used Gaumont’s empty studios in Fort Lee, New Jersey, to start her own production company, Solax which produced films at an astonishing rate between 1911 and 1914 before the War and Edison’s trust, forced filmmakers to Hollywood. These films show us the cinematic skills of the director, enabling us to move beyond the “recovery narrative” and to see how well Guy Blaché made films and money in this most competitive world. We can see how she evolved as a filmmaker with more dynamic camerawork, more cuts and even split screens and how she made the most of the emotional capacity of her stock troop of players. Eat your heart out DWG!

All of this, of course, was enhanced by some of the finest musical accompaniment on the planet.


Race relations on Love's Trail

Frozen on Love’s Trail (1912) with Costas Fotopoulos

First up was a curious tale of “the devotion of a redskin” shot around Fort Lee, New Jersey – old “Hollywood” – which showed that loyalty and sacrifice were not only limited to white settlers out West. The story is set on a reservation in the “Klondike” where, Mary, a young woman, is kind to a mixed race native American courier who falls in love with her much to the distaste of her would be paramour Captain Black and others at the post. Needless to say, amongst some superb snowy locations, the courier proves he’s worth any number of Captains.

Guy Blaché’s concerns on race were also to inform A Fool and His Money (1912) which was probably the first narrative feature with an all-black cast, the white actors having refused to work with the black co-stars. She was from Paris, what did she know of old prejudice?


Vinnie Burns showing her total lack fear of fire...

Two Little Rangers (1912) with Andrew Earle Simpson

This thriller has previously been shown at the KB live and shows Guy Blaché’s editing ability with multiple cuts enhancing the narrative urgency of what is a tough tale in which the two young women take on bandit Bill Gray. Vinnie Burns plays the older of the sisters and was the genuine article, trained as a stunt woman by Guy Blaché, and, according to Solax PR, known as “the girl who isn’t afraid of fire, water, air or beast!”

Vinnie draws her gun, races on horses, pulls the postmaster up a rock face and fashions a bow and arrow to set fire to Gray’s hideout and her little sister, a splendid Gladys Egan, gives as good as she gets out-drawing Gray and also taking man and the elements in her stride. These are the forerunners of not just serial action heroines but also women of agency that grow to populate cinema. Also proof that things did not start off with woman “the weaker vessel” having to be rescued every five minutes on screen. Post-modern, postmaster’s daughters!


Split screen telephone call in The Strike. Lois Weber was watching.

The Strike (1912) with Lillian Henley

Guy Blaché’s stance on industrial relations next and an even-handed one it tries to be at a time when trade unionism was disturbing the balance of power in the advance capitalist economies… The director’s solution seems to be that boss and workers should understand each position more and that, as is the case, when disaster strikes all should work together. It’s fascinating to watch and to imagine the response of a 1912 audience to this over-heated melodrama which, whilst it focuses on the positivity of working together on the more important things, fails to address to underlying questions of fair pay and workers’ rights as you’d expect from a woman with a company to run. See Charlie for a more left leaning take perhaps, but there’s work to be done on the politics of silent film makers?


Poor man, rich man...

A Man’s a Man (1912) with Andrew Earle Simpson

More social concerns are evident in this tale of gross inequality in which a poor Jewish man has his daughter killed by a hit and run rich man. It’s harrowing but also powerful in its own way as the chance for vengeance is passed over for delicately handled forgiveness with a closing scene to moisten the eye of the most cynical silent cineaste.


Something's coming...

Starting Something (1911) with John Sweeney

From The Consequences of Feminism onwards, Guy Blaché was concerned with gender roles and often had her characters cross-dress to prove her underlying point of natural equality at a time when women did not even have the vote (except in New Zealand). Here Jones objects to the way his wife Bettie (Blanche Cornwall) dresses and takes revenge by wearing a dress… his wife’s Aunty is a suffragette and given to masculine attire and confusion reigns when Jones mistakes her for his wife, albeit with the aid of alcohol. To cure him of his addiction to the demon drink, Auntie suggests a course of “mental suggestion” to persuade Jones that his tipple is toxic and that he must keep dancing or die… I’ve really no idea what was in the water in the Solax script room but this is great fun and deserves a full viewing. Doug Fairbank’s Coke Ennyday would love this film!


The mind play also reflects contemporary fascination with hypnotism and psychology… another area of silent film that might reward study. But that’s just my suggestion…


Darwin Karr down in the sewers

The Sewer (1912) with John Sweeney

This two-reeler is credited to director Edward Warren with set design and script by former Gaumont colleague Henri Menessier who turns the sewers of the title into a sinister underground world of shadows and twisted structures, the art of darkness. John Stanhope (Darwin Karr) and his wife are philanthropists who are being taken for a ride by Herbert Moore (William Leverton) who runs the phony “Charity Organization Society”.


Moore and his pals – led by a beefy version of Fagin – aim to use little Oliver (Magda Foy – the Solax Kid cross-dressing!), to rob the good natured Stanhopes. But Oliver refuses to steal - yes, he is not at all twisted! – and is taken in by the charitable couple giving Stanhope a concealed miniature saw as a thank you present… he obviously had one spare for just such an occasion.

The gang’s second attempt succeeds and they tie Stanhope up and lower him to his doom in the sewer… how can he escape and save his family?! The sewers are a highlight all tinted green to reflect the odorous darkness… and this is a fun film performed with conviction and skill.


Watch that man

Cousins of Sherlocko (1913) with Colin Sell

Save me dick old top, or it’s a striped suit and iron bars for innocent me!

This awkwardly titled comedy follows the attempts of two detective “cousins” of Sherlock Holmes to track down a notorious robber called Jim Spike played by Canadian comedian Fraunie Fraunholz, a name to conjure with. Fraunie also plays Jim Neill who, unsurprisingly, is the spitting image of Spike a resemblance that costs him his engagement to Jane Ellery (Sally Crute) once her father sees “his” wanted picture in the newspaper. There follows a cat and mouse with the police and the convict involving some trademark Guy Blaché cross-dressing as Jim and his pal try to avoid the striped suit and iron bars. It’s a good laugh and well played by all.


"No Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!"

The Detective’s Dog (1912) with Meg Morley

Does anyone know how many Rovers have rescued over the course of cinematic history? It’s a high number for sure but here we have one of the very first as the newly adopted pet of Kitty, Detective Harper’s daughter, races out to find his new master. Harper has been trapped by the evil Richard Toole, who rather than shoot him in the head, straps him to a table with a buzz saw inching towards him… probably one of the first such scenes of unnecessarily complicated execution. Can the cop be found by the hound and can the detective capture dastardly Dick Toole? You’ll still edge towards the edge of your seat…

By this point the actors are starting to look familiar – Blanche Cornwall of Two Little Rangers, plays Mrs Harper for instance, Lee Beggs is Toole just as he was Sherlocko’s cousin and Darwin Karr is James Harper, Secret Service Detective with Magda Foy – famous for Falling Leaves - as Kitty. It’s fascinating to see them at working at pace with this being just one of up to three movies they were making that week. Here we see the discipline and control from the showrunner and her team; the cast deliver comedy and tragedy on her cue.


No Greater Love...

Greater Love Hath No Man (1911) with John Sweeney

Directed by Alexander Butler and Guy Blaché, this is another stirring western melodrama that once again features Fearless Vinnie Burns as Florence, "The Rose of the Camp". She is beloved by Jake (Romaine Fielding) but takes a shine to, handsome Harry Litchfield, the new superintendent of the Gatlach Mine in New Mexico. It’s love at first sight but not for the Mexican miners who feel Harry is cutting them short on the weighting of their gold. One of them pulls a gun but Flo’ is too fast for him, Vinnie’s persona is consistent; she always stands her ground.

The Mexicans hatch a new plan and Jake, overhearing has to decide if he can overcome his love-sick jealousy to save his rival even at the cost of his own love. It’s the kind of moral high stakes that still resonate in these disbelieving days and there’s a stirring finale culminating in a tableau echoing classic art, heroes, heroines, glory and the United States flag. Even then, the immigrants knew what this meant more than most…

The famous sign at the Solax Studios reminding the actors to “Be Natural” never led Guy Blaché to ignore the need for dramatic power in her films. As a result, they showed seemingly ordinary people living extraordinary lives and formed a powerful connection with the mass audiences of the time as they stared in wonder at people so much like themselves on screen.

Alice, please take a bow!

Alice being interviewed later in life, from Be Natural

Seven of these films are available on the Kino Blu-ray/DVD Alice Guy Blaché Volume 2 – The Solax Years which you can order direct in the USA or via Amazon and others in the UK/EU.

Volume 1 covers her Gaumont years and both are part of Kino's Pioneers, First Women FilmMakers series. The box set has the two films from the above – Two Little Rangers and No Greater Love – that aren’t on Volume 2… all essential of course!






Saturday, 17 August 2019

Boxing match… Early Women Film Makers, BFI Blu-ray release


‘There is nothing connected with staging of a motion picture that a woman cannot do as easily as a man and there is no reason why she cannot completely master every technicality of the art.’ Alice Guy Blaché

Like London buses, you wait years for a box set of early women film pioneers and then four of them arrive almost all at once. This BFI set is the latest and for those wondering which to buy I’m here to make the case for this over Flicker Alley, Lobster and even Kino Lorber, although in the latter case you really should buy both with the caveat that the Blu-ray version, which has the most content, is Region A and you'll need a compatible player.

Making an American Citizen (1912), unique to the BFI set
The Kino set is six Blu-ray discs and, of course, has a greater range of material than the others but it dovetails pretty well with the BFI set and together they give you 8-9 discs of unique, must have, material from an era that is only now being fully rediscovered. Even in the span of my relatively recent interest in early film, the directors in this set have been re-evaluated with pioneers like Guy Blaché and hugely popular filmmakers like Lois Webber been restored to their rightful position. There are some great films on these sets and they help to broaden our appreciation of the new media as one not just dominated by Méliès, Griffith, de Mille et al.

Kino goes long on Alice Guy Blaché with 14 films from 1911 to 1913 of which the BFI replicates five and adds two, Making an American Citizen (1912) and The Girl in the Armchair (1912). Only Flicker Alley covers her earlier work with Les Chiens Savants (1902), Une Histoire roulante (1906) and La Barricade (1907).

Guy Blaché's utterly lovely Falling Leaves (1912)
Guy Blaché pretty much invented narrative film making as Pamela Hutchinson explains in her essay in the excellent BFI booklet which also allows the contributors to comment on each film. There are two films not covered on Kino, Making an American Citizen (1912) and The Girl in the Armchair (1912) with the former taking the director’s experience of immigration and turning it into a proto-feminist fable. As PH notes, equality in marriage is a condition of acceptance in the new country, and the heroine, played by Blanche Cornwall, sees her husband Ivan abandon his domineering Euro-bullying to fit in with the New World after various American men step in to force him to adjust his behaviour.

It’s not just the fact of these films but their themes; there is a different sensibility at work and a willingness to tackle subjects from within rather from on high (and yes, DW, I’m looking at you).

Claire Windsor and Louis Calhern in The Blot (1921)
Nowhere is this more in evidence than in the films of Lois Webber whose work often contains a depth and intimacy that others lack. The BFI set includes The Blot (1921) which is not only one of her best but also one of the most impressive character-based dramas from the period, its tale of bourgeois poverty trap, neighbourly jealousy and conflicted love delivered by superb performances especially from Webber discovery Claire Windsor as the librarian at the centre of a love triangle between an educated but poor theology student and a wealthy Phil West played by Louis Calhern (who I’ve just seen in the BFI’s smashing restoration of Notorious (1946)). Her mother is also well played by Margaret McWade who hangs on in quiet desperation as the family suffers daily humiliation from their immigrant neighbours who make a healthy living through trade. There’s no right or wrong to either side and Webber’s take is sophisticated to stand the test of time better than Griffith’s Victorian morality tales.

Triangulated tension - Lois top right in Suspense (1913)
Webber tackles social issues with an even-handedness that eludes many and Discontent (1916) about an old man who is happier in his old soldiers’ home than with his well-intentioned relations, is another example. Her technical skill and innovation are also evidenced by a crisp restoration of the superb Suspense (1913) famous for its three-way split screen and overhead point-of-view shots: it’s a genuinely pioneering and tense story of home invasion on a par with anything coming out of Biograph.

Kino has 13 Lois Webber films including noteworthy features such as Too Wise Wives (1921), Hypocrites (1915) and Where Are My Children? (1916) yet, apart from the spectacular Suspense (1913), the BFI disc alone includes Discontent (1916) and The Blot (1921). I’m beginning to suspect collusion…

Here's Mabel!
The BFI set gives you by far the most Mabel for your money with five films of which Mabel's Dramatic Career (1913, 14 mins), His Trysting Place (1914, 22 mins) and the magnificent late period riot Should Men Walk Home? (1928, 28 mins) are unique to the BFI set. Mabel’s a marvel and I especially enjoy the rawness and energy of her work with Chaplin in Trysting and Mabel’s Strange Predicament (1914). Mabel directed the former and, probably, co-directed the second which sees Charlie progress from irresponsible parent to slightly chastened – and battered – husband; these two were making up so much content on the hoof and had improvisation to burn.

Mabel’s adventures are also marvellously accompanied by the Meg Morley Trio who’s tight, jazz-age playing catches the mood and movement of Mabel’s quicksilver narratives.

That's not how we rehearsed it Charlie...
None of the material on the third and fourth BFI discs is available on the Kino set and one of the main delights is a film from Olga Preobrazhenskaya, regarded as the first female Soviet filmmaker. Kat Ellinger’s essay reveals that little is known about the director and that whilst many of her films are lost, what survives reveals a concern for character over propaganda even though the film included here, The Peasant Women of Ryazan (1927) could be seen as an attack on the Kulaks (rich peasants) who were viewed as in the way of industrialisation/modernisation by  Stalin’s regime.

The Kulak in question is Vasilii Shironin (Kuzma Yastrebitsky) who allows his son, Ivan (G Bobynin) to marry Anna (R Pruzhnaya) a poor girl from the neighbouring village, only to rape her when he is away in the First World War. Anna has her father-in-law’s baby but has to live in disgrace with the village not knowing the cause of her shame. Shironin’s daughter, Vasilisa, (Emma Tsesarskaya) is the face of the new Russian woman, forging her own destiny by deciding who she marries and setting up an orphanage.

Damned by tradition and a Kulak's greed (R Pruzhnaya)
Even as the villain of the piece, Shironin has shame and regret and there’s a lot going on in a narrative that is true to itself and not just instructions from on high. There are some superb sequences of rural life showing the vibrancy of a culture that was under threat even just over a decade after the story was set. The performances are also excellent especially from R Pruzhnaya as the long-suffering Anna and from Emma Tsesarskaya as the modern Vasilisa. Ellinger has this as a feminist film but sadly things were to get worse in the ensuing decade and beyond.

The face of the future? Emma Tsesarskaya's character makes her own decisions.
Over in France, Germaine Dulac and Marie-Louise Iribe were to be allowed considerably more creative freedom. The former is of course well known for The Smiling Madame Beudet (1922), which deals so eloquently with the lot of many French women, a “key feminist text” as Jane Giles points out in her notes for a country which didn’t grant universal suffrage until 1945. Dulac’s range encompassed more regular fare such as La Cigarette (1919) in which a jealous archaeologist and older husband Pierre (Gabriel Signoret) plans on using a poisoned cigarette as revenge on his younger wife Denise (Andrée Brabant), who he suspects of wandering. It’s a stylish and good-looking romantic comedy – lovely locations along with well-designed interiors and there’s a great performance from an Egyptian mummy too…

Some fairies, yesterday
Marie-Louise Iribe has already made a stylish impression on me in Hara-Kiri (1928) which she co-directed with Henri Debain’s and in Le Roi des aulnes (1929), her only film as sole director, she proves to have an uncanny style all her own. Based on Goethe’s poem Erlkönig (1782) and Shubert’s song of 1815, it features a father battling through a forest to take his sick son to a doctor. The two confront all manner of imagined horrors in the deep woods as the Erl King magics up fairies to obstruct their purpose, as if the illness wasn’t real enough…

Last but not least is The Woman Condemned (1934), an early talkie from Dorothy Davenport also known as Mrs Wallace Reid, wife of the film actor who died from drug addiction in 1923, who was determined that his death would not be in vain and that she would fulfil her own ambitions. Ellen Cheshire’s essay details Davenport Reid’s determined creative drive after being widowed as she wrote, produced and directed films with a social conscience. She transitioned to sound films and The Woman Condemned, an entertaining but over-worked and under-budgeted crime film that features an outstanding cross-examination scene with Claudia Dell giving her all.

Under pressure: Claudia Dell
Cheshire quotes Ivan Spear in Boxoffice (13th May 1939wondering why so few women ‘attain high production or executive niches in the [film] industry and, further, why those few women who have done so have failed to stay at the top’. Davenport Reid was one of those who he said had “dropped from sight” but she continued working as a scriptwriter into the fifties and deserves to be remembered as a filmmaker in her own right and not just a widow.

The set also includes a snippet from Dorothy Arzner’s Dance Girl Dance (1940) along with Mary Ellen Bute’s experimental Parabola (1937). There are also three short featurettes on Mabel Normand, Alice Guy-Blaché and Lois Weber: fascinating lives and there’s a lot more to come in their rehabilitation as all the essays make clear.

Smoking is bad for the health...
I’ll leave the last word to Germaine Dulac writing in ‘Ayons la Foi’ Le Film (1919):
‘The time has come, I believe, to listen in silence to our own song, to try to express our own personal vision, to define our own sensibility, to make our own way. Let us learn to look, let us learn to see, let us learn to feel.’

The BFI set is full of these “songs” and it’s essential for all who want to listen. Available now from the BFI Shop on and offline.

The Kino-Lorber set is also available direct from their site and a reminder that it is Region A so you'll need multi-region capability.  It features a mind-boggling range of filmakers including Nell Shipman, Alla Nazimova (Salome in great quality!), Ida May, Julia Crawford Ivers, Frances Marion - her feature Song of Love (1923), starring Norma Talmadge - serial queens, Grace Cunard and Helen Holmes and more (two silent features from Dorothy Davenport Reid!). There's a 40% discount at the moment and together with the BFI set, this wonderful box set opens up a whole new-old world of cinematic and social history.