Sea song: Jenny Hasseqvist and Victor Sjöström in... Eld Ombord (1923)

Two of my favourite silent Scandinavians in a film that is enjoyably imperfect…  One can get a bit too precious about the “greats” and The Canon but there are times when you just want to relax and watch what was always intended as entertainment.

So, Eld Ombord (aka The Hell Ship) doesn’t carry the social message of Ingeborg Holm, the emotional intensity of The Outlaw and His Wife or the spiritual questioning of The Phantom Carriage and Sons of Ingmar. It doesn’t have the raw sincerity of Jenny H’s performance in Sjöström’s under-rated Vem Dömer nor her performances in Gosta Berling or Johan. It doesn’t even allow the prima ballerina the opportunity to show her comedic touch and to dance as in Lubitsch’s Sumurun… and she could dance!

Jenny Hasseqvist

What we do see is a perfectly competent performance from both star and director and a well-produced if routine pot-boiler about two men, the woman they love and the sea, all filmed by Sjöström’s master cinematographer, Julius Jaenzon: you know the story will look lovely if nothing else.

The film features a number of repeated motifs

Jenny plays Ann-Britt a young mother awaiting the return of her husband, Jan Steen (Matheson Lang, Canadian born and Scots educated) who is a sea captain away from home for long periods and yet to meet his new-born baby.

Jenny lives with her mother (Ida Blumenthal) in their well-appointed garden and, following the news of Jan’s impending return, goes happily into their garden to collect a garland. The camera lingers on Jenny as she picks the flowers and is soon showing the point of view of Dick (Victor Sjöström) an old acquaintance – maybe even boyfriend – who carries the largest of candles for Ann-Britt – having only met “headwinds” since he saw her last.

Director and star in the beautifully-lit garden sequence

Ann-Britt invites him in to see her mother and baby and offers to help him get a job on Jan’s ship, The Future. Those headwinds seem to have stopped Dick getting work… he’s becalmed by his love.
Ann-Brit is surprised by Jan in the garden an assumes it’s Dick… she tells him to stop before realising who her assailant is and no amount of her genuine joy at his return can persuade her stubborn husband to do anything other than instantly view Dick as an enemy.

Old rivals meet again...

Jan refuses to offer him work and the two exchange words with Dick saying that only his status as a ship owner and captain persuaded Ann-Britt to choose Jan over other suitors – specifically himself. Dick is wrong and Ann-Britt’s protestations only lead Jan to decide that – to prove her loyalty – she and their baby must now join him on his travels.

Downcast, Dick returns home to the house he shares with his mother (Tekla Ahlander) and his cousin Eulalia (Julia Cederblad). His mother, always sad for her son, hears his leaden feet approaching and knows he has suffered another disappointment. His countenance confirms this but he loves his mother and doesn’t want to disappoint her and resolves to head off and find work.

His mother waits...

In the dockside tavern, he tries to get work with a prominent ship broker Roff (Josua Bengston) undeterred by his reputation. But even rotten Roff has no work for him and leaves Dick nursing his wounds over a drink, only the thought of his mother holding him back from drinking himself to temporary oblivion.

We’re slightly confused by Dick, he is listless and seems to delight in winding up his former rival for Ann-Britt and yet, when pushed by a detective (Nils Lundell) to become a police agent with the implication that Jan will eventually turn bad, he defends his honour and gives the copper a swift box around the ears.

As Dick returns he remembers to lighten his step in order to convince his mother that he’s had good news, but as he enters the house his determined positivity is immediately dissolved by the sight of his mother passed away on her chair: he’ll never know that she “heard” his “good news” footsteps only to smile as her old heart finally broke…

The family that sails together, stays together...

The years pass and we find the Steen family on board The Future and enjoying a jig as the Captain plays his flute and young Lill-Britt plays with the friendly crew. Jan’s policy of taking his nearest and dearest on his travels seems to have worked but the family that stays and plays together doesn’t necessarily prosper…

In desperation Jan accepts one of Roff’s dodgy deals – black market gunpowder – and in his haste to load the disguised barrels on board, one of his men falls and breaks his legs. There’s little time to lose as they must depart before customs investigate and, needing an immediate replacement, accepts an unknown freelancer on board with just enough time to cast off…

Well… can you guess the name of the mystery sailor?

The surprise re-appearance of his despised former rival re-ignites the worst aspects of Jan’s inherently untrusting nature and tension mounts. But Dick’s not all that bad and proves himself by rescuing Lill-Britt when a part of the rigging falls down on her. Ann-Britt runs to his aid and bandages his bloodied hand using the broach given to her by Jan… Dick’s place on board is assured though but there’s a storm guaranteed when he discovers the explosive in the hold… and all Hell does indeed break loose…

The characters don’t always ring true, Jan is too angry, Dick too comfortably in the way and even Ann-Britt too slow to react to her touchy husband’s need for re-assurance but the story is enjoyable if slightly predictable and undemanding. In fairness Sjöström set such a high standard that not every film could live up to his very best and if this was made with a more commercial eye then it’s still a very interesting production.

It’s always a joy to watch Jenny Hasselqvist in action and, as you all know by now, she’s one of my favourite performers even when, as here, she has less to do… allowing for one pretty brave stunt when she falls off the bridge – who was mad enough to risk the ballerina’s legs on that?!

Jenny takes a trip...

Sjöström is as strong as you’d expect, giving his character a dark edge without which he’d be nowhere near as interesting, whilst Matheson Lang leads the film with a nuanced performance of alpha manhood undermined by the simplest of weaknesses…

Eld Ombord is well worth seeking out – I was sent a copy by a mysterious European benefactor… and in a sensible world would form a part of Sjöström and Hasselqvest Blu-Ray box sets… with new scores, extras and extensive liner notes… on the latter point, I would happily work for free…

Judging Jenny Hasselqvist … Vem Dömer (1922)

This is a film with many alternate titles Love's Crucible, Judging?, L'épreuve du feu, Who judges?, Mortal Clay, The Acid Test… God's Judgment… Maybe the distributors struggled with the precise meaning of a photo-play that is clearly more than it might seem.

Vem Dömer was Victor Sjöström’s follow up to The Phantom Carriage and was a lavish production premiered on New Year’s Day in 1922 accompanied by the Red Kvarn Orchestra and a publicity campaign including an illustrated book of Hjalmar Bergman’s story. Sjöström co-wrote the screenplay and whilst this tale of illicit period romance may appear atypical it has much in common with its predecessor and the director’s earlier work. Just as characters in There Was a Man and The Outlaw and His Wife must endure extremes in order to survive, so must Jenny Hasselqvist’s Ursula overcome not just a physical test but also a moral one:  she has to judge herself.

Gösta Ekman and Jenny Hasselqvist

I’ve raved about Jenny Hassselqvist before and she gives a great performance here with her ballet dancer’s physicality under-pining an energetic focus that draws the viewer in like few others. From the first moments when she is shown praying alone in the cathedral to her stunning appearance in silhouette mounting the wooden steps for her ordeal by fire, she holds herself so well and is able to convey so much just through posture – it’s remarkable. Then for her close ups, as she wrestles with the guilt of love and betrayal, she conveys a very modern, Huppert-esque intensity….

Interiors

The film is in dark contrast to Sjöström’s al fresco classics and is largely studio-based with the majority of exterior shots taking place at night. This puts the focus firmly on the main players… it’s dark and claustrophobic and you can count the smiles almost on one face. Given this delicate darkness, it’s a shame that there isn’t a restored version generally available:  the sections included in the Sjöström documentary on the Kino discs, reveal so much more of the lighting, set design and Hasselqvist’s expression than the copy I was able to view.

Gösta Ekman

But, even given the low-res limitations, Vem Dömer is gripping viewing. It’s an ostensibly Christian tale of faith in truth and love yet it’s also a meditation on self-doubt and guilt: redemption comes either through a kind of miracle or the realisation of truth… the choice is yours.

The plot: The film opens with Ursula praying alone, dwarfed in the dark mystery of a medieval cathedral. She is due to marry an older man she does not love and pleads with the statue of Christ at the alter for a way out so she can marry her true love Bertram (Gösta Ekman). She glances at a Latin inscription: “… and realises that she must do her duty.

The marriage has been arranged by Bertram’s father, The Mayor (Tore Svennberg) and Ursula’s intended, Master Anton (Ivan Hedqvist) a sculptor considerably older than his intended. Their wedding takes place amongst civic joy whilst Bertram looks on in misery.

Anton sculpts a statue of Ursula as the Virgin Mary a she poses exhausted on a pedestal… which is exactly where he has put her.  Anton worships her but she can only reciprocate with hatred for lost opportunities their bond has cost her yet, whilst Anton chip-chips away, she finds freedom reading in their garden where she is joined by Bertram.

Anton's work of worship

Anton and the Mayor head off to the ale house leaving the frustrated bookworms: two old men blind to the clear and present dangers of poetry... Ursula’s desperation is on the rise and the visit of a friar selling herbs and remedies (Waldemar Wohlström) provides her with a way out:  she will buy some rat poison and commit suicide with Bertram.

Hearing their plan, the Friar substitutes a harmless powder and heads off to spill the beans… and to get help.

No way out?

 The Mayor and Anton beat a hasty path with a large angry mob behind them… arriving at the house Anton confronts Ursula who, in misery, reaches for another solution; pouring what she thinks is poison into his drink. Seeing this in the mirror, Anton is crushed and his weak heart gives out as he reels from her betrayal.

Ursula is immediately suspected – as if the crowd needed much encouragement - but is saved after the friar’s story reveals the truth. Yet this is not a straightforward morality play: Ursula did have intention and, though she doesn’t yet know it, she was the cause of her husband’s apoplexy.

Soon the figure of Christ in the cathedral is seen to be weeping blood – by a young Nils Asther no less. Naturally… this is seen as divine evidence of Ursula’s guilt and the authorities waste no time in arranging a trial by fire to establish the truth.

Who judges? Nils second left.

Spoilers: The final set piece is a tour de force from Sjöström and I’ll try to avoid specifics… needless to say there are flames, fear and forgiveness and an emotional dénouement as powerful as it is unexpected.

The “modern” agnostic viewer might cringe at the non-secularity but I’m not so sure, as with The Phantom Carriage, that Sjöström has a straightforward Christian aim: these stories work on many levels and at their heart is the need to self-examine and to be true to one’s self.

Fire walk with me...

Jenny: The narrative is simple and could so easily encourage over-playing but Jenny Hasselqvist’s control enables her to play out Ursula’s whole story as if it were a ballet. Her pantomime is so impressive from a forlorn looseness at her opening prayers to the love-lightness of her scenes with Bertram and the heavy-hanging misery of her sterile posing for Anton’s statue. Once the accusations fly she stands tall in defiance and after the contortions of recrimination her final brave steps towards redemption are taken with head held high resolution.

Put this together with her ability to hold the camera’s gaze whilst emoting with equal grace and you have to my mind one of the most convincing dramatic actresses of the period. Her style still stands and, yes, there really should be a fan club!

Victor: Sjöström’s direction is powerfully economic and he keeps the focus on character above costume. The wonderfully expressive set designs of Axis Esbensen and Alexander Bakó are perfectly aligned from the unforgiving cathedral to Ursula’s little garden of romantic solace. J. Julius' cinematography captures every dark moment and flutter of joy – how good would this look on the big screen!?

Apart from the brief segment on the Kino DVD extra there’s no way to view Vem Dömer other than to wait for a rare screening or borrow someone’s VHS copy (merci Christine!) – it’s about time more of Sjostrom’s Swedish work was made available.

As for Jenny Hasselqvist, if you haven’t seen her performances in Sumurun, Johan and Gosta Berling then I recommend you go straight to Amazon right now: you will not be disappointed.

Gösta Werner's 1981 documentary is included as an extra on The Outlaw and His Wife - available direct from Kino Lorber.

A river runs though it... Johan (1921)

Johan is a 1921 film directed by Mauritz Stiller that is as well made and sophisticated as many Hollywood silents from later in the decade. It is a technical tour de force featuring some stunning filming of the Swedish woodlands, daring shots of boats bumping through white water and some subtle, powerful and realistic acting from the cast.

As such it is emblematic of the Swedish cinema of the time, underlying, along with Stiller’s earlier works such as the below-mentioned Thomas Graal, why the Scandinavians’ sophistication made them world leaders as cinema entered it’s third full decade.

The story is based on Juhani Aho’s novel, Juha (1911), and is set, in the film at least, in the unforgiving landscapes of the Swedish Lapland. This was a hash environment in which families had to fight hard: hunting, logging and fishing constantly risking their safety to eak out their living.

Johan, played with steadfast innocence by Mathias Tauber is one of the leading men and lives with his domineering mother (Hildegard Harring) in a basic log cabin they share with a teenage girl they rescued from the snow, Marit, played by Jenny Hasselqvist.

Into this close and closed community comes a group of strangers, hired to help them lower the depth of the lake. One of their number, played by the baby-faced but bullying, Urho Somersalmi, becomes attracted to Marit and she is torn between her loyalty to the man who brought her up and the newcomer.

Johan is already married to the shy Marit but she is young and craves excitement. Finally she allows herself to be lured away by the stranger and they make their escape riding the rapids of the river.

Marit is pursued by Johan and he finds her after, having second thoughts, she leaves a message with an elderly neighbour. Johan arrives and confronts the stranger, knocking him savagely to the ground with a log. Then it is Johan’s turn to have the wind taken from him as he realises that Marit has left of her own accord.

And yet…she has learned a lesson and wants to return. Johan accepts this and the two head off back up the river to find a new accommodation…their marriage revived by her brief infidelity?

Johan is an atmospheric film with a great consistency of tone and is a visual delight, sepia-tinted throughout to highlight the glorious, rugged rural beauty. The film makes great use of this natural backdrop and this appears to be one of Stiller’s groundbreaking gifts. "Johan is an ode to light, which is based on the composition of the sun and the splendour of the water..." the Finish film historian Antti Alanen has commented.

More than this, Stiller threw his actors and crew into the heart of the scenery, especially on the water. His camera crew lashed to an occasionally visible, raft, he follows Merit and the stranger’s journey in close quarters. These shots are really quite extraordinary. The fragile boat is tossed around by the white water and Hasselqvist and Somersalmi clearly risked their necks for the drama. That they hold their poise is amazing and yet both are clearly in character (maybe not when Somersalmi falls in for a few brief moments!).

Of the actors, Jenny Hasselqvist is the stand out with a range of subtle expression that kept reminding me of Isabelle Huppert. There is one scene when making up her mind which man to follow; she must have subtly transitioned through half a dozen emotions in just a few seconds… entirely natural and entirely convincing. She carries her self with the poise of the prima ballerina (she was a world-class ballerina too!) and is always fascinating to simply watch move.

Hasselqvist gets a lot of screen-time in this film and she carries it superbly. For me she is incontestably one of the greatest actresses of silent film and deserves to be ranked alongside Brooks, Boardman, Helm, Nielsen and Garbo. Not a “classic” beauty she was, never-the-less, beautiful. She always seemed to be in control of her emotions and had the ability to make the most of her strong, haunting and almost inscrutable face. She had deep expressive eyes and a perfect, subtle smile and she knew how to use them!

In Johan her performance matches those she gives in Sumurun and Gosta Berling referenced earlier in this blog. She is the kind of surprise that makes watching silent movies so worthwhile: someone who’s skill level enables you to re-connect with and to re-contextualise these wonderful films!

It’s not too late to start a fan club!

And Stiller is the kind of director you discover as well; working so skilfully with the “new” medium and telling a story in an original, brave and, ultimately, highly-entertaining way.

Johan was long considered lost and was only recovered in the 1960’s. This DVD was released by ZDF/ARTE in 2001 and features a clear transfer that highlights the performance and the location. The modern soundtrack, composed by the Russian composer Alexander Popov, also ably supports the action albeit with the occasional over frenetic moment!

The intertitles are in Swedish with optional German subtitles but Johan is worth it! Hopefully an English language version will become available but until then, just follow Jenny’s lead and go with the flow!

Available from Amazon.de.

Jenny Hasselqvist – all acting, all dancing!

Jenny Hasselqvist (or Hasselquist) was a top class ballerina who also starred in a number of high-profile silent movies. There’s very little about her online (at least in English) but she’s certainly more deserving of wider recognition and remembrance.

Born Matilda Elizabeth Jenny Hasselqvist in 1894 into a well-to-do Stockholm family (her father was a Swedish MP), Jenny first appeared on stage as a dancer in her teens. She was one of the premier performers of the day and was principle ballerina for the Swedish Royal Opera from 1915-19 touring Europe in many successful productions.

In 1920 she joined the Swedish Ballet in Paris which produced five seasons of ground-breaking and avant garde dance. An article in Spel en dans (September 1925) ranked her with Anna Pavlova, Tamara Karsavina and Lili Green as a world-class dancer. There's a documentary about this period - if ballet's your thing - with a sample here.

There are some excellent photographs showing Jenny in performance but little film of her ballet dancing. One noticeable exception is the 1916 Mauritz Stiller film "Balettprimadonna" a film thought long lost but now preserved in nearly complete form by the Swedish Film Insititute - I'd love to see it on DVD! There's also the, frankly bonkers, German “health and efficiency” movie "Wege Zu Kraft und Schonheit" ("Path to the Power & Beauty") (1925) in which Jenny’s dancing is one of the more conventionally interesting sections and certainly the highlight.

She dances in “Sumurun” and this is also one of the best chances to appreciate her acting ability. An Ersnt Lubich film from 1920 this was primarily a vehicle for Pola Negri and represents that early German sub-genre of Arabian Pantomime! The film is available on a Kino DVD and this shows the full-length picture (not the truncated US version) which reveals itself to be a sophisticated and intricate comedy and one preserved in excellent quality.

Jenny plays the title character (and is indeed featured on the cover, not Pola as some might think) and for my money, outmatches Ms Negri in skill, personality and certainly movement. That’s not to understate the latter’s own abilities – she’s deservedly a legend – but to underline how talented Ms Hasselqvist was.She faced an even sterner challenge in “The Saga of Gosta Berling” when acting alongside the 19-year old Greta Gustafsson (later Garbo) and again more than holds her own - albeit against inexperienced opposition who nevertheless shows promise... Her part is a less prominent one in this sprawling three hour epic than in the Lubish film but she still stands out for her grace and emotional subtlety.

Adapted from the nobel prize winning author Selma Lagerlof’s novel and directed by Mauritz Stiller, the film was one of the key European movies of the silent era and much has been made of the Stiller/Garbo angle. The cast is a very strong one with Lars Hanson outstanding as the cleric torn between his passions and his women. The great Gerda Lundequist is also present as the wise Margaretha Samzelius.

Jenny plays Marianne Sinclaire who is wooed by the outcast Gosta Berling. Gosta sticks with her after she is ravaged by small pox and rescues her from the fire of Ekerby. But Marianne nobly frees Gosta of his obligation to her knowing that his heart lies elsewhere, “our adventure is over – forever” she says her eyes telling a different story as she sacrifices her own happiness for his.

It’s a mass of melodrama but compelling viewing. People can pick holes in the continuity, sprawl and overall coherence but it is a tale well told with some great dramatic sequences, the above mentioned fire and Gosta and Elizabeth’s escape across the snow.

And, in every scene, Jenny is strong, expressive and convincing. More skilled, certainly, than Ms Gustafsson at this stage.She never gave up her principle career – indeed film looked more of an adjunct with an average of around a movie a year through the 20’s at a time when she still toured Europe frequently with the Swedish Ballet. She eventually opened her own ballet school in 1932 after making her last film “Den farliga liken” (“The Dangerous Game) in 1930. She passed away in 1978 having been married a number of times and no doubt more revered as a ballerina than as a film star.

See for yourself why she should be remembered for being both.

Arabian adventures here and Gosta saga here.