Edward Sloman & Sophie Solomon... His People (1925), London Barbican

George Lewis and Blanche Mehaffey

Edward Sloman’s silent films are mostly lost and to see one on the big screen is a rare treat, especially when it’s accompanied by a new live score.

Made in 1925, His People, was rated by Sloman as his personal favourite, when tracked down by Kevin Brownlow, and it was also one of his most successful films. Presented here as part of the UK Jewish Film Festival, the film was introduced by “Ted’s” Great Nephew, Anthony Sloman, who also happens to be a respected and multi-skilled film figure. Tony was sound producer of In the Company of Wolves and many other films and is a noted critic and film historian. He recalls that no one in his family had really mentioned his great uncle’s trade, the Sloman family invariably being tailors…but, no doubt, very talented ones!

If self depreciation whilst in possession of considerable talent is a Sloman family trait, Anthony’s great uncle certainly seemed to share it. He came across as humble in the Brownlow interview and this film, alongside the others I have watched, displays great visual control and superb narrative economy. Sloman moves the viewer and his actors effortlessly around the screen and everyone is always in action even when they’re not the centre of attention.

Rosa Rosanova , Rudolph Schildkraut and Albert Bushaland

There’s a moment when the Cominsky family are sitting down for their Friday night meal and we suddenly notice Sammy’s sweetheart through the window in her apartment across the block, we follow his gaze… she’s intruding in the story and that’s what he wants.

The opening scenes, set when the Cominsky boys were just boys…is a whirl of rapid cutting and movement showing the hectic life of the ghetto and introducing the characters as they interact with this rough and tumble world. Morris hides behind his books whilst Sammy takes life by the scruff of the neck – honest and brave. He fights his brother’s corner against an older boy and in winning gains a dollar from a boxing gym owner, thereby triggering a life-long interest..

Their father David Cominsky (a quite superb Rudolph Schildkraut) is a Russian émigré who was an academic back home… he sees learning as the way forward and naturally favours the bookish Morris. His wife, Rosie (Rosa Rosanova another excellent performer), holds them all together, seeing the good in Sammy but deferring to her husband.

Rosa Rosanova and Rudolph Schildkraut

They live in a crowded tenement block and their next door neighbours are the Shannon family, culturally different but very much in the same boat. Kate Shannon (Kate Price) is the matriarch and has to keep her gossip mongering husband in check. Their pretty daughter Mamie is already the apple of Sammy’s eye.

Move forward a decade and the boys are fully grown. Morris (Arthur Lubin) is training to be a lawyer with eyes set on the daughter of the judge who runs his law firm. Sammy (George Lewis) is still chasing money from boxing but tells his folks he’s selling newspapers… The family dynamic is little changed with pop favouring Morris and continuing his disappointment with Sammy. But his younger son is happy and in love with the grown-up Mamie (Blanche Mehaffey)… another disappointment in the eyes of his strict father.

There are serious issues in the slums, there’s little money and life’s a struggle, but the family and the film are funny. The intertitles are witty and the timing of the leads is impeccable: I heard more laughter in this film than in any silent features I can recall outside of straight-ahead comedies.

Blanche Mehaffey and George Lewis

But gradually, the family drifts apart. David learns from Mr Shannon that Sammy is boxing under an assumed Irish name and kicks him out whilst Maurice also leaves to pursue his upward mobility. So ashamed is he of his background that he claims to be an orphan to impress his intended Ruth (Virginia Brown Faire) and her father – his boss – Judge Nathan Stein (Bertram Marburgh). It’s a sad moment and drew some gasps from the audience (honestly people… what happened to your cynicism?).

But Morris needs money and forces his father to sell his prized bearskin coat in exchange for a formal dinner suit… his father catches a cold in the snow en route and falls ill. Morris – who threw the suit away as all he really wanted was money – is too busy seeing his intended to visit his sick father.

Sammy is mistaken for Morris by his delirious father and it seems like this will be a kind lie to end his father’s life… But, the old man pulls through remaining none the wiser, however, the doctor informs Rosa that he must be moved to a warmer climate if he is to carry on much beyond six months. There is no money but in desperation Sammy persuades his trainer to let him fight for a big purse against a much more experienced boxer… he has little chance and as the fight begins, Mamie brings Rosa along to watch…

At the same time Mr Shannon (tellin’ tales again!), shows David a newspaper announcing the engagement of “orphaned” Morris Cominsky – who has made his own way in the world – to Judge Stein’s daughter. Horrified, he resolves to find out the truth and visits the Judge’s house yet, in one of the most moving scenes in the film, Morris claims not to know his father who lets his son off the hook… if this is the way he has chosen then he is willing to let him go.

Meanwhile things look very bad for Sammy as he is battered from pillar to post… think Rocky in the opening rounds only more one sided! Just as things look hopeless as he lies senseless on the canvass and Rosa comes to him shouting encouragement. He bounces up and within a few blows has sent the champion unconscious to the deck!

They have the money to save David and now Sammy goes and drags his brother away from his society friends and home to face a reckoning…

Rudolph Schildkraut and George Lewis

His People is good family fun and a film which is strong on the simple benefits of family, friends and community. To all immigrants it seems to be saying, help each other and make your way however you can, whether it’s via a profession or through your wits. This was very much a welcome message for the thousands of struggling émigré families in the United States and elsewhere: opportunistic flexibility even if this meant moving away from traditional values…or reinterpreting them.

The improvised score from Sophie Solomon was energetically inventive throughout without ever over facing the film itself. She is a highly-skilled violinist (and Artistic Director of the Jewish Music Institute), and was ably accompanied by Quentin Collins (trumpet), Ian Watson (accordion) and Grant Windsor (piano and occasional percussion!).

Some live scores can counter-point a silent film – rubbing modernity up against the old - but others support and move in tandem. Solomon’s group gave one of the best examples of the latter I’ve seen this year (up there with Stephen Horne and The Manxman). My uncle was a pro violinist, playing for the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic for 30 years… he loved Jascha Heifetz and I am sure he would have loved Ms Solomon’s playing – strongly emotional and yet never sentimental with a line of steel resilience throughout and more than a hint of gypsy wildness!

Blanche Mehaffey and George Lewis

Sight and sound combined with a receptive and knowledgeable audience to produce a worthy tribute to a classic director and the culture he helped celebrate.

The UK Jewish Film Festival continues until 18th November and is an annual event: more details here.
His People is available on DVD from the US National Center for Jewish Film and no where else as far as I can see. Let’s hope for wider Sloman releases sooner rather than later!

Edward Sloman discusses the script with Rudolph Schildkraut

Edward Sloman + Mary Miles Minter… The Ghost of Rosy Taylor (1918)

Edward Sloman films are as rare as hens’ teeth as, indeed, are those of Mary Miles Minter. According to Grapevine Video (who’s print I watched), MMM had four extant whilst Sloman only five.

Whilst both figures have been revised upwards in recent years, there’s very little left from a combined total of over 150 films made by both and when you hear the debate about how much silent film has been lost, it’s people like these that keep the ratio tragically high.

But at least we have something. I enjoyed watching Sloman’s 1926 film Surrender with its inventive direction and a DVD release is rumoured – something worth re-watching in hopefully superior quality.

According to Kevin Brownlow, this earlier effort from 1918, showed similar evidence of Sloman’s vision and editing skills. Sloman himself professed it one of his “less mighty” works… he may have left Britain far behind but he retained the endless self-depreciation of the true English gentleman.

The Ghost of Rosy Taylor is indeed well-crafted light entertainment, featuring an interesting narrative structure and some state-of-the-art cross-cutting and parallel story telling. It makes a mystery out of a melodrama and retains your interest through deft marshalling of an effective cast and smooth storytelling: it’s very well-paced.

The film begins with the well-off Mrs Jeanne Du Vivier (Helen Howard) discussing how pleased she has been with her new housekeeper, Rosy, with the woman who placed her in their employ. The latter is suddenly shocked as she reveals that Rosy died shortly after she gave her the letter of appointment and couldn’t possibly have been at the house.

A practical woman, no doubt used to taking charge, Mrs Du Vivier sets off with friend Mrs Herriman-Smith (Marian Lee) to de-bunk the idea that a ghost has been responsible. Yet, when she arrives, there’s a mysterious floating white figure at the window, the rattling of chains and a ghostly voice singing Rosy’s favourite song… The two women flee.

We flash-back to France some year’s earlier where an exiled American businessman Joseph Sayles (George Periolat ) lives with his pretty young daughter Rhoda (Mary Miles Minter). Their life is happy if impoverished and Rhoda dreams of one day returning to America. But her father cannot return and, upon his sudden death, she discovers that he had to leave following a financial scandal.

With no means of support she works her way back to America where she finds streets that are paved with hard, barren concrete… She has barely enough money to stay for a while in the modest lodgings of the Mrs Sullivan (Kate Price) and is on the verge of being thrown out when she comes across a letter addressed to Rosy Taylor with the key to the Du Vivier house and an initial payment for new role.

The house is occupied by Du Vivier’s brother Jacques Le Clerc (Allan Forrest) who immediately takes a shine to Rhoda but believing her to be a thief, sends her to a women’s reformatory for help. This is the last thing she gets though and, being described as a “menace to society”, she is locked away by the centre’s manager, Charles Eldridge (also played by George Periolat…).

As Brownlow notes, this section intercuts between Mrs Sullivan cleaning her room and Rhoda’s encounter with Jacques… Sloman’s experience with DW Griffith in full display!

She manages to escape and returns back to Mrs Sullivan, who sends the reformatory lady away with a flea in her ear. With no place left to go she returns to the Du Vivier house where she finds - a present left for her by Mrs Du Vivier’s daughter. It is a dress and she puts it on in delight – her first decent break!

Spoilers ahead: But Rhoda has been followed by the woman from the reformatory who calls in the police…it’s looking bad but … Jacque senses that there’s more to this girl than meets the eye and he arrives at the Reformatory to see Rhoda identify herself to Mr Eldridge, the man she now realises is her uncle.

She explains what happened to her father and that he was the innocent party, his brother to blame… Eldridge accepts this and asks her for forgiveness. A happy ending will ensue.

A fairly typical tale of its time, Rosy is never-the-less well told and pretty well acted by the cast. Sloman was none too impressed by Ms Miles Minter describing her as the most beautiful youngster he ever saw but the worst actress.

This is a frankly *challenging* print but you can still see the truth of at least half of that sentence. MMM is indeed very pretty but she does act pretty well too. She’s no Pickford in terms of dramatic ability, but she’s good in this role…as far as the eye can see through the fog of the multiple-copies. This may well be attributable to her director, who knew what he was dealing with.

The Ghost of Rosy Taylor is out of print and you will need to search hard for it. There is an excerpt on mary-miles-minter.com which is in better quality than the Grapevine Video so, here’s hoping that one day we’ll see Rosy with greater clarity!

In the meantime, it’s worth the effort to see The Other Girl with the Curls as well as one of the under-stated masters of early Hollywood film-making.

Edward Sloman remembered... Surrender (1927)

This is a slightly odd but very well-made film of love and duty from an almost neglected director; Edward Sloman.

Kevin Browlow’s “Parade” stopped to include Sloman and bemoan the fact that so few of his works survived. Whilst there are slightly more than was thought at the time, Brownlow was especially impressed with his print of Sloman’s 1927 film, Surrender.

Based on Lea Lyon, Alexander Brody's 1915 drama, Surrender tells of a Jewish community in an Austrian village on the border with the Russian empire at the outbreak of the Great War. Whilst political tensions are running high, life in the village seems undisturbed. The village’s moral leader is Rabbi Mendel Lyon (powerfully played by Nigel De Brulier…strangely reminiscent of Tom Baker), who, as well as providing spiritual guidance, arbitrates in disputes and provides wise counsel.

He has a daughter, Lea Lyon (Mary Philbin) whom he dotes on and who is betrothed to Joshua (Otto Matieson), an eager young man one suspects early on isn’t quite smart enough for her.

Into this setting comes a Russian prince, Constantin, played with superb energy by the great Ivan Mozzhukhin (Ivan Mosjukine here) in his only Hollywood film. Having established himself as a star in Europe, most notably in Casanova (made earlier in 1927), Mozzhukhin was sourced as a potential Valentino substitute following The Great Lover’s passing. He was made to have plastic surgery to shorten his nose whilst an interpreter had to relay Sloman’s direction as Mozzhukhin – seemingly – spoke little English.

There is an exceptional outdoor sequence when we first find Constantin out hunting. Brownlow remarks on the excellent camera work showing the Prince’s view of his quarry which turns out be only a squirrel which he refuses to shoot. Soon entirely more impressive fair comes within his sights as he finds Lea sitting beside the river, she is shoe-less after his dog has retrieved her footwear and marooned on a rock.

Constantin “rescues” her and the two quickly strike up a rapport as she is charmed by his skilled courtship. This fits with Mozzhukhin’s “Casanova” persona and some commentators have argued that what comes next was “out of character” given his previous casting but, surely, an actor is the sum of all his parts…not just the one? OK, there is Hugh Grant…and there was Valentino…but Mozzhukhin could clearly act!

The couple are interrupted by Constantin’s troops and Lea’s father; it is time for war and the Rabbi has, unknowingly, only just begun the defence of his daughter’s honour.

The Cossacks begin their invasion and Sloman’s direction is superb as he shows the clashing together of their army and the village. Two farm workers see the advancing army and speed on horseback to the still peaceful village to relay the news: “The Cossacks are coming. THOUSANDS OF THEM!” scream the intertitles superimposed over the men as they arrive with their warning.

But, it’s too late and the village is quickly over run.

Constantin recognises the Rabbi and seeks out his daughter. She refuses his advances and is reminded of her “duty” to love Joshua. Constantin scoffs at this, love should be an instinct…yet this doesn’t prevent him from trying to force Lea into his own arms. In his anger he gives her an ultimatum: she must come to his room that night or he will burn down the village with all its inhabitants.

In spite of the moral dilemma, Lea decides that committing this sin is the only way to save the village. There’s another great sequence when she is shown walking through the village between houses boarded up with desperate hands reaching out for help and the Russian soldiers holding flaming torches ready to follow their orders.

Lea reaches Constantin’s room and the village is saved… But how far has she been made to go against her beliefs, how cruel has Constantin been and... will she be damned for her actions?

Soon the Austrian counter attack reaches the village and it is the Cossacks’ turn to flee. Is there any kind of future for Lea and Constantin?

The film diverges from the play in its resolution and this is true to form for Hollywood of the time – without giving too much away. This may account for it’s less than entirely coherent storyline, but it’s an engaging story none-the-less. Whilst Sloman directs expertly with a good deal of camera movement and vitality, he paces the story well and brings out the best from the actors and their characters.

The situation is melodramatic, as was the play, but also realistic enough for audiences still recovering from "the war to end all wars" and at a time when the Hebrew faith was no less contentious in some quarters, than it was in the following decade and beyond.

Mary Philbin does well to match Mozzhukhin’s dynamism and the two make an eye-catching and, ultimately sympathetic pair. This is a stretch given Constantin’s brutal threat to the village but he may have expected her favour based on their previous meeting and possibly that’s the way Russian Princes behaved when thwarted... in wartime (in Hollywood). Philbin is mostly remembered today for two horror films, Phantom of the Opera and The Man Who Laughs (I love that this was the template for Batman's Joker!) but had a fair dramatic range as shown here.

But the star is really Sloman. Maybe as Matthew Sweet has recently written, we are fascinated by silent film because so much is lost or in ruins – Surrender is certainly bloomin’ hard to get hold of. Maybe it’s just nostalgia for a period we never knew? Or, just maybe, it’s because we enjoy reconnecting with the simple skills of film directing and acting faced with an excess of over-produced and self-referential modern movies?

If it’s pure hand-crafted and hand-cranked film you’re after, Edward Sloman knew how to make it. Surrender proves that! It is a shame that the film and more of his work isn’t readily available… maybe one day.