Coming soon. The Cat and the Canary (1927), Eureka, Masters of Cinema Blu-ray

 

“…  not the first of its kind, but it is one of the few hybrids that succeeds in spoofing old-dark-house clichés – secret passageways gaping open, monstrous hands extending slowly towards unwitting victims – while remaining genuinely spooky.”

Imogen Sara Smith from her booklet essay, Laughter in the Shadows

The Cat and the Canary represents a peak of silent film technique and is as good as almost any silent film made in Twenties’ Hollywood, a defining, genre-defining classic. It is not so much a horror classic but a major step forward in spooky-comedy, paving the way not just for Bob Hope’s talkie remake but a whole sub-genre of scarily-funny movies. Paul Leni’s film looks great and takes many visual tropes from the German style and injects laughs into the resultant combination of eerie unease. From the opening titles, showing the title revealed by a horned hand wiping away the dust, it makes its intentions known and it really does achieve that balance between the unexpected, the unnerving and the uncannily-timed.

From previous viewing of Kevin Brownlow’s Photoplay 35mm at the Kennington Bioscope, I knew that the film had long languished in poor quality until the 1960s when he found a good print and restored it from 35mm nitrate. Eureka’s new restoration is a 4k transfer from a recent digital restoration that looks as good as the day it was first edited together, especially in Blu-ray quality: never darker, sharper or more ominous…

The Cat and the Canary it parodies what had yet to be termed as “horror”, which hadn’t really started to dominate film, although it was popular on stage, where this story began John Willard’s 1923 stage play. Whilst it’s one of Universal’s big three foundational shockers, along with Hunchback and Phantom, it’s also a continuation of the German style, expressionist as well as existentially oppressive in the manner of Caligari, Student of Prague, Golem and Leni’s own Waxworks. It meets a lot of Lotte Eisner’s Expressionist criteria with unsettling frames and deep shadows alive with menace.

Do not mess with Laura La Plante's hair!!

Kevin Brownlow interviewed the camera man, Gilbert Warrenton, who told him that they had to dig into the floor to get those acute angles and he also explained that extra lights were also needed to create the right dynamics between dark and darker. Leni used a gong to drill his player’s movements and claimed that the shadows were as important to the film as the characters… and so it was to prove.

It starts with a dark and stormy night, as it simply had to, but the collaborator of Lubitsch, May, Dupont and a host of European filmmakers, knows what he was doing… The opening section shows mad old Cyrus West’s spires cross fade into milk bottles which imprison him, wheelchair bound, as viscous black cats encircle this crippled canary: his greedy relatives waiting to get their share of his fortune all, as set out in his will, to be unveiled twenty years after his death.

The action moves to the interior of the West mansion and Leni treats us to the works, wonderfully lit settings with Warrenton’s camera swooping round corners with alarming grace then careering down blustery corridors as drapes and curtains fly wildly in the wind. This is a place full of dark surprise, bad humour and menace. 

Here's Mammy! Martha Mattox 

There’s a knock on the old door and West’s faithfully grim retainer, Mammy Pleasant (Martha Mattox) – not very motherly or, indeed, pleasant – opens the door which is almost held back by sheer weight of cobwebs. Enter Roger Crosby (Tully Marshall) West’s lawyer, here on the dot, two decades after his death to reveal the contents of the will. Opening the safe he finds a moth and knows someone has forewarned themselves of the contents… but no one else has been in the house only Mammy and her un-living companion who stares down with intent from his portrait.

The guests, all soon to be suspects, all save the murdered… arrive and Leni gives us portraits of people with something to hide; eyes darting, greed nervously bubbling just under the surface and desperation enough to make anyone of them suspicious. There’s Harry Blythe (Arthur Edmund Carewe) who’s already dark eyes take on additional edginess and who almost snarls as his estranged cousin Charles "Charlie" Wilder (Forrest Stanley) arrives. Charles looks like our leading man, but there's a nervousness around the eyes and a mouth that suggests weakness and desperation. 

Their more senior cousin Susan Sillsby (Flora Finch) arrives with her niece Cecily Young (Gertrude Astor) both clinging on to the hope that there will be a windfall to compensate for the many obvious disappointments that have etched themselves on their faces: Susan old with bitterness and Cecily just on the cusp as youth fades. Cue the comedy. Paul Jones (Creighton Hale) arrives in a miss-firing motor car, breaking to avoid crossing the path of a black cat and then running into the house convinced his engine’s back-fire was an assassin’s bullet. He’s no Bob Hope - more Ernie Wise - but he’s funny alright.

Gertrude Astor, Flora Finch and Creighton Hale

The entourage is completed by the arrival of Annabelle West (Laura La Plante) – youngest of the group and seemingly as sane as sixpence. La Plante takes top billing on the film and had some of the sharpest haircuts in all of silent film not to mention costumes which is pretty much all she remembered when later interviewed by Kevin Brownlow. All the same, I’m sure she’s one of his favourites!

Anna is revealed as the sole beneficiary and therefore becomes another Canary and the trick is to work out who the Cat(s) might be with pretty much everyone looking as guilty as can be… personally I was hoping it might be Creighton Hale. The mysterious deaths begin to happen, sliding panels start to reveal clawed hands and an escaped lunatic is revealed to be on the loose. What’s more, Annabelle must be proven sane in order to qualify for her prize or else her inheritance will go to another.

Who’ll it be? And will anyone from this strange family emerge as the unlikely hero to protect the true heir? There’s the usual miss-direction and emotional disturbance of the humour but it’s still a fun watch: golden rule of all whodunits… make ‘em all look guilty and then gradually provide them with alibis/good character.

The film looks fabulous on this 1080p HD presentation from a 4K digital restoration of the original negatives supplied by MoMA.|There's also a fascinating new score from Robert Israel -presented in DTS-HD MA 5.1, it says here - which has been compiled, synchronised and edited by Gillian B. Anderson, based on the music cue sheets compiled and issued for the original 1927 release. 

Ultimately, it’s hard to disagree with Kevin Brownlow when he said, again at the Kennington Bioscope, that The Cat and the Canary is a commercial film, superbly well-made and one that is critically under-recognised, certainly it had a major influence on the epic Universal horrors of the thirties, especially James Whale’s Cold Dark House, and way beyond, through Bob Hope’s version in 1939 and onto an entire backlot of scary mansions spoofed so well in Scooby Doo.

If it hadn’t been for those pesky German kids, Leni’d never have gotten away with it…

Extra frightening features:

Limited Edition O-card slipcase featuring new artwork by Graham Humphreys [First print run of 2000 copies]

Two brand new audio commentaries: Stephen Jones and Kim Newman plus  Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby

Mysteries Mean Dark Corners – brand new video essay by David Cairns & Fiona Watson

Pamela Hutchinson interview – excellent new discussion with writer and film critic Pamela Hutchinson who, as you would expect, thoroughly contextualizes the film, the director and the cast.

Phuong Le interview – another newly commissioned interview with film critic Phuong Le who explains the differences between the film and the play and looks at Leni's aims in making a "non-European, American film

A Very Eccentric Man & Yeah, a Cat! – extracts from John Willard’s original play 

Lucky Strike – Paul Leni gives a full-throated endorsement to the product that got him through filming The Cat and the Canary

A collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Richard Combs, Craig Ian Mann, and Imogen Sara Smith

Whilst Eureka were kind enough to send me a review copy I’ve already pre-ordered the fill set with all the above limited-edition trimmings. There’s still time for you to do the same, the Blu-ray is released on 22^nd April in the UK and you can order it direct from Eureka using this link.

Climb every mountain*… Le Giornate del Cinema Muto 42, Day Six

We finished off day six climbing every stairway, late after dinner and relegated to the Gods for the spirited but slightly odd Poker Faces (1926) featuring Edward Everett Horton and Laura La Plante in a winning combination of cheeky chappie and Universal’s top star for much of the Twenties who didn’t manage to achieve his career longevity, retiring as a movie star at just 30 in 1935 by which point Horton was pushing 50 and with years of success ahead.

 

Horton plays Jimmy Whitmore a man whose face gives nothing away expect, he’s Edward Everett Horton so, of course, there’s a lot of comic meaning flashing across his face, he’s no Buster Keaton in this regard. If anything, La Plante as his wife Betty is better at stoneface especially frustrated by his glacial career advancement – and consequent lack of new rug – and then stone-cold furious as his big break turns into a farce – a little forced compared with say Marie Prevost’s Up in Mabel’s Room, but still funny and with the charm of these two leads.

 

Jimmy gets offered a promotion so long as he can close a big new deal with out-of-town big shot George Dixon (George Siegmann) who he has to meet at the station. By this time Betty has stormed off to get a job of her own after Jimmy nixes the new carpet and thinking he sees her about to leave town, wearing a veil with similar luggage (of course) pursues her and starts to remonstrate. This attracts the attention of Big George who chivalrously steps in to defend the woman who, veil lifted, turns out to be of Chinese origin so, of course, she couldn’t be Jimmy’s wife… and our collective cringe went up a gear as an intertitle of Chinese appeared. That was 1926 that was.

 

Edward's way with women.

Jimmy and George don’t know who the other is though, despite having unknowingly got off on bad terms Jimmy’s boss Henry Curlew (Tom Ricketts) invites them to his house for dinner to finalise the deal. He also invites Jimmy’s wife which is an issue as the latter thinks he’s been deserted by his inconveniently ambitious spouse and has to hire a woman to act as his wife (Dorothy Revier). She’s married to Pug (Tom O'Brien) a prize fighter… not someone you’d want to upset in any way. Can you guess where this is going?

 

Naturally chaos erupts at Curlew’s house as the men find out who each other is and the old man’s new secretary is unveiled… it’s Betty who is probably more surprised about his new “wife” than Jimmy is about her new job. There follows extended confusion and confrontation as Jimmy tries to protect the honour of this young woman as George takes a shine to her. It’s well played by everyone, and the direction is well timed by Harry A. Pollard.

 

It’s a farce. sometimes you’re in the mood sometimes you’re not and tonight I was.

 

The daftness was enlivened considerably by a new score composed and conducted by Juri Dal Dan performed live by Zerorchestra, Pordenone’s finest and who played for this on the tradition GCM eve screening. The band were swingling and tight, turning musical direction on the flip of a dime and with short solos highlighting and reinforcing the comic energy. No wonder the Verdi was packed out to the rafters where we sat!

 

Hannes Schneider

Before our evening exertions we were on top of the world with Arnold Fanck and his intrepid mountaineering filmmakers for Der Berg Des Schicksals (Mountain of Destiny) (1924), the film that reputedly inspired dancer Leni Riefenstahl to get in touch with its pioneering director, Arnold Fanck, who then featured her in The Holy Mountain. I love Fanck’s films, the scenery obviously, the sense of actual adventure filming at these altitudes and the bravery of the leads taking on the actual crags and scrambles.

The “destiny” is for the son to follow the father in conquering the peak which he tried but failed to climb. Inspired by the fatal attempt of climber Carlo Garbari to summit the Guglia (“spire”) di Brenta in the Dolomites, Winter Olympian Hannes Schneider plays Bergsteiger who is haunted by the peak and his son is Alpine expert Luis Trenker who would star in other Fanck films and who looks like he was hewn from the granite of these mountains (was he Married to the Mountains?!).

 

Fanck would start by shooting footage of dangerous climbs and incredible landscapes and then evolve his stories later and sometimes there’s more climbing than character but there’s good support from non-climbers like Erna Morena as the climbers’ wife and mother as well as Hertha von Walther as Hella who Trenker has to go to rescue on a stormy night. She climbs well and looked familiar to me as she’s an uncredited actor in Pabst’s Joyless Street (1925).

 

Airy accompaniment was provided by Mauro Colombis and the ubiquitous Frank Bockius who is no doubt familiar with these Germanic hills! Stunning visuals on screen and hard-hitting, syncopations on stage!

 

Harald Madsen charms Marguerite Viby and Nina Kalckar

The Slapstick programme brought us down to earth with the existential crises of  Pat and Patachon in Højt paa en kvist (High Up on a Twig) (1929) which featured the following intertitle: “One is tall, the other is short”, which I though was a very dry joke I’d made about their comedic proposition at the Kennington Bioscope in 2018… The two madcaps are engulfed a series of comedic situations during the course of this feature and attempt to romance two attractive young women, played by Marguerite Viby and Nina Kalckar, who are clearly such generous souls that they see the inner beauty in both men although they are under the misapprehension that they’re rich.

 

The film was apparently a return to form for the couple who had been working together for over 25 years at this point. Ulrich Ruedel is very good in the Giornate programme on the reasons for their success and on just why their comedy was different to the Brits and Hollywood. Clearly both men, Pat (Harald Madsen) and Patachon (Carl Schenstrøm) were good actors playing a different style to the gag-based Brits and it’s our challenge to understand why even if we just don’t laugh as much.

 

Meg Morley made her GCM42 debut and as usual accompanied with assured melodic invention and her jazz-practiced improvisations always have a distinctive quality even as she presents musical themes that are very much of the period, jazz age in spirit as much as form.

 

Mary Harald in the fields

Vendémiaire (1918), presented as one feature, was essentially a two parts plus prologue, from the master of the multi-part adventure, Louis Feuillade and showed a more considered and down-to-earth, director three years on from Les Vampires and the War. There were some lush landscapes of the canals and countryside near Lyon and a feature feel to the lengthy episodes as a plot unfolded about two escaped German POWs infiltrating a group of farm workers in the Great War.

 

René Cresté plays Pierre Bertin a soldier on leave to recover from his mental and physical wounds and he meets a family heading away from the front line to seek work and to find out what happened to their siblings. They all end up working on a vineyard in Lunel (Feullade’s hometown) run by Capitaine de Castelviel (Feuillade regular Édouard Mathé) and where the two Germans also infiltrate.  Wilfred (Louis Leubas) and Fritz (Manuel Caméré) cause much disruption as they try to further the fading German cause and frame a gypsy, Sarah (Mary Harald, who also featured in the director’s Tih Minh (1918) and who was of mixed race possibly born in Hong Kong or Vietnam) as they rob the Captain… there are fuller characters than in the director’s more adventure-based serials and, as the propaganda it undoubtedly was, Vendemiaire stirs your heart as you hope for the best for these refugees.

 

Accompaniment for the 143 minute run time was split between Gabriel Thibaudeau and John Sweeney who both provided the lyricism and spirit the subject matter demanded; John’s triumphant cadences at the films’ end were especially moving as the certainty of the victory at the time of release was clearly less and we now know that the new peace was only to last barely twenty-odd years.

 

There were also some extra special entrees before Poker Faces accompanied by maestro Stephen Horne and including some wonderful colour shots around Niagara Falls in, er, Wonderful Water (1922) and Max Roach comedy, A Truthful Liar (1924) featuring Will Rogers as Alfalfa Doolittle who becomes Ambassador to Cornucopia where he dispenses with formalities and gets matey with the King (Richard Pennell) who would much rather go to an American bar in the city than spend time with his suffocating court. Alfalfa duly uses his cowboy powers to rescue the King from runaway horses and would be assassins. It spoofs the whole Ruritanian idea and features the immortal couplet:

 

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I’m against royalty,

How about you?

 

There were also some poignant footage of the man Chaplin called The Master, Max Linder in 1924, still so full of charm and intelligence and yet struggling with mental health issues after the war that would lead to his death the following year. Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think…

 

 

René Cresté and Gaston Michel Vendémiaire (1918) 

 

*See Le Giornate del Cinema Muto 42, Day Four

Three’s a charm… Early Universal Vol 1, Eureka Blu-ray

More seasonal lolling about watching my presents, this time a box set of three Universal films, fully restored and issued on Blu-ray at a very reasonable price and with essays and commentary on what could be regarded as lesser works in the silent film "cannon". All three are, however, very well made and feature noteworthy participants, they represent popular films from Hollywood's golden age and act as fine examples of the type of film that made up most of Universals output and which were enjoyed by large portions of the film-going audience.  In historical terms, there’s no such thing as “standard fare” and these films may well have had a wider audience than many an arthouse classic. So play on...

The Shakedown (1929), 4K Restoration

 

Directed by some fella name of William Wyler, this fast-paced morality tale features The Crowd’s remarkable James Murray in only the second film I’ve seen him in and he’s good, very good, making his life-struggle with addiction all the more tragic, as if anything could. He was so bright and not only soul full of light and shade but also physically brave, seen here rising high onto an oil rig and in the ring going toe to toe with boxer and professional wrestler George Kotsonaros. The latter appeared in Beggars of Life (1928) and others, but his life ended tragically too in a 1933 car accident.

James Murray

By contrast, Barbara Kent made it to 2011 and 103 years of age although her career petered out in the mid thirties while she was only in her twenties. So it goes and the other star of this film Jack Hanlon, would have further grounds for complaint, with a film career that ended he was just 16… a smashing child actor who became simply too old for the job.

 

Everyone acts well in this film with Wyler moving things at a pace and incorporating comedy, love, criminality and some excellent late silent period dolly shots following the cast along streets and in the boxing ring. In the excellent booklet with this set, Richards Comb talks of Wyler’s later acknowledged “deep-focus look” and “the ability to hold many actors, in different planes of action, across the screen…”. Combs startling evidence of this in The Shakedown starting with the early set up of the scam at the heart of the story.

 

James Murray and Barbara Kent at the fun fair

It’s the way the director and his cinematographers Charles Stumar and Jerome Ash, show the action in the bar where Murray’s character Dave is showing his boxing skills. He’s challenged by a rough-looking type, boxer Battling Roff (Kotsonaros) and as the bruiser tries to hit Dave, the action is seen from behind him at the bar and the street outside is fully visible. Then the camera view shifts to the reverse as Dave talks to a young woman at the doorway, back inside as Roff spots her, then outside tracking her walking away and being followed by Roff, back to Dave who moves to intervene and rush to the damsel’s distress.

 

Dave knocks down Roff and the latter’s manager (Wheeler Oakman) steps in saying the two should settle things in the ring where Dave could win $1,000 if he lasts three rounds. The contest agreed, the manager starts taking bets from the gathered crowd… we’re sucked in, and the next shot shows a hotel room with Dave, Roff, the girl and even the two guys arguing about who would win, all in on the scam. It’s quality filmmaking and I’m not surprised that Wyler spent months planning the project.

The excitement is in tents.

The rest of the film shows Dave setting up another scam in a new town only this time he gets too involved helping a young boy called Clem – tough and lonely as he once was – and falling for the girl he works with at the oil company, Marjorie (Barbara Kent). Will the outcome be different this time? Wyler packs a lot into a relatively short film and the climax is intense; you really care about Murray’s characters! A very proficient Hollywood film and a delight for rainy seasonal afternoons and any time really.

 

The film comes with a new score by Michael Gatt and commentary by film writer Nick Pinkerton.

 

The Shield of Honor (1927), 2K Restoration

 

Directed by Emory Johnson a one-time actor whose career faltered after the silent era and who directed the superb news-based action thriller The Last Edition (1925), this is another exciting feature even though it starts off like a promotional film for the LAPD.

Ralph Lewis and Neil Hamilton

The LAPD has a new weapon in the fight against crime, an airplane that is going to be piloted by one Jack MacDowell (Neil Hamilton, later Adam West’s Commissioner Gordon, a fact I love). Jack is the son of long-termer Dan played by Ralph Lewis who was so good in The Last Edition who although only 55 is tasked with playing a man ten years older and on the point of forced retirement. Dan is a natural cop and is still fit and raring to carry on. Naturally events conspire to give both father and son the chance to prove themselves and in the most heart-warming fashion.

 

A jewellers run by police supporter, Matthew O'Day (Fred Esmelton) has been infiltrated by a bad sort, Robert Chandler (Nigel Barrie) who is working with gangster A.E. Blair (Harry Northrup) on an elaborate plan to defraud the company by making it pay to get by diamonds already stolen from its vaults. Chandler is assisted by a woman working as a secretary for O’Day, Flora (a young and feisty Thelma Todd), and even an odd-job man; this caper is well organised.

The gang with Thelma Todd on typewriter

But even the best laid plans can go awry and when they do O’Day’s daughter Gwen (Dorothy Gulliver) – Jack’s sweetheart – gets caught up as does Dan who is retired but working as a guard at O’Day’s. Chandler plans to fly his ill-gotten gains away but his is not the only plane in town… the finale is dynamic and multi-channelled – planes crash and burn, a woman gets locked in a safe in a burning building, the tough very much get going, men fight and a dog barks! It’s breathless and the likeable cast make it work very well.

 

The film comes with a new score by Alex Kovacs and audio commentary by professor and film scholar Jason A. Ney.

Skinner’s Dress Suit (1926) 4K Restoration

 

I once saw Kevin Brownlow introduced this film at the Kennington Bioscope and he described how he’d met its star, Reginald Denny, in 1964, many years after the British actor’s silent heyday and after decades of playing stock English characters in the talkies. Brownlow projected the film for Denny and his family and, despite the actor’s fears that the film might “creak” he was rewarded with an emphatically amused response.

 

Skinner's Dress Suit is that rare thing, a genuinely charming comedy featuring two vibrant leads – Denny and the lovely Laura La Plante who cut a rug almost as sharp as her platinum bob. In thrilling style, the two dance the Savannah Shuffle, a variation on the Charleston, before leading a host of society types in trying to learn the steps.

 

Laura and Reg fret

Directed by William A. Seiter a keen golfer and close buddy of Denny’s, the film never strains and the relaxed humour is testament to the compatible temperaments of both men: “we never had an argument, never a cross word, “he told Brownlow, “…and we always brought the picture in within budget...” Seiter was clearly a very able manager of time and people.

 

Skinner (Denny) is an over-reaching and under-achieving office worker whose wife, Honey (Laura La P), keeps egging him on to get a raise. But Skinner not only doesn’t have the nerve he doesn’t really have the edge being walked all over by both his juniors and his superiors. Unable to tell Honey he’s been passed over yet again, he pretends that he’s had a $10 a week raise and the two start extending their credit starting with a party dress for her and a dress suit for him.

Reginald Denny in said suit

Both prove very useful after Skinner is taught the new dance craze, the Savannah, by fellow wage slave Miss Smith (a peppy Betty Morrissey) and simply everyone at the party they attend wants to learn it. Social mobility awaits but in keeping up appearances their credit gets stretched to the limit. But gradually they are accepted by their snooty neighbours, The McLaughlin’s and are invited into higher society.

 

All comes crashing down when a major contract is lost, and Skinner is the man to be let go… he hasn’t the heart to tell Honey as she entertains but has to fight off the repo men gathering for their furniture and the tailor who wants his fine dinner suit back. There’s just one last chance… an invitation to the party of the season held by the Colby’s (Hedda Hopper and Henry Barrows) if they can make an impression Skinner could still save his social standing. Cue Mr Jackson (Lionel Braham) the man who withdrew his contract with Skinners firm and his wife (Lucille Ward) both eager themselves to get introduced to society… You can work out the rest, but the story is so well pitched the resolution works as smoothly and reassuringly as you’d hope.

 

Denny and La Plante

It's a thoroughly enjoyable slice of mainstream silent Hollywood and just edges The Shakedown as the most entertaining of these three. 

The film comes with a new score by Leo Birenberg and audio commentary by film historian and writer David Kalat.  There’s also an excellent collector’s booklet featuring insightful new writing by critic Richard Combs and film writer Andrew Graves.

 

This is great set, and I can’t wait for more as the Universal restoration project proceeds. We’re lucky to be at a point where such a broad range of material is being considered for release and we need to support this as much as we can. The second volume is already available, and you can find further details and order both, from the Eureka website.

 

The lights go down on Broadway… The Last Warning (1929), Flicker Alley Dual Format

Broadway, electric highway of happiness… street of nightclubs, theatres, laughter…

This was the final film directed by Paul Leni before his untimely death from blood poisoning and showcases so much of the cinematic style and visual control of late period silents. It’s a lot of fun even if it lacks the tension of Leni’s earlier Cat and the Canary, with a slightly wayward plot and dramatic intensity reduced by the pacing of events over years. The film opens with great flourish and had the immediate investigation and the characters been kept inside the scene of the crime and that moment in time then the suspense would have been better maintained with the mix of horror and humour having had a better blend, but there’s a five-year gap between crime and resolution.

It’s still a very handsome film with Flicker Alley’s release using Universal’s restoration which stabilized and “de-flickered” the film, repairing scratches, warps and dirt to thoroughly uplift the visual experience. This is the silent version as nothing remains of the sound version which included some dialogue and sound effects which, from reviews of the time, did not really enhance the film but rather hold it back. As the miserly Variety review had it: “Plenty of hoke and a wild imagination… there are enough screams to stimulate the average film mob… Leni should learn that dialog must have pace.” Well, I may well be an average film “mobster” but the film is highly entertaining and the lack of voices certainly improves the experience especially with Arthur Barrows’ informed and nuanced new score.

From the get-go, the camera flows across the action, tracking the characters in almost seamless flow and at one point, cinematographer Hal Mohr has the camera swinging on a rope with the villain as he climbs up the side of the theatre. The film begins with atmospheric montages of the Great White Way, dancing girls, names up in Broadway lights and, shockingly, a topless Josephine Baker followed by the jarring image of a gurning minstrel (modern Blu-ray viewers see to much perhaps....) and, as the action kicks in we move over the performers on stage to view the audience as the curtain goes up. It’s breath-taking stuff and then, as an actor dies, the viewer is swept from the rear stalls towards the stage as we focus in on the panic amongst cast, crew and audience.

They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway
They say there's always magic in the air...

The film is, naturally, based on a play and features a play (within the play…) called The Snare and as we drift in from the Broadway melange, we see one of its performers, John Woodford (D'Arcy Corrigan), as he reaches for a candle stick to defend himself, only to drop to the floor dead and there’s a doctor in the house to prove it. The authorities soon arrive and start questioning our cast of characters.

There’s lead actress Doris Terry played by lovely Laura La Plante who sadly has less to do here than in Cat; more reaction than action… along with the regular-featured director, Richard Quayle played by John Boles who, after a bright start seems oddly distracted for some segments of the action. Incriminating floral gifts in the dressing room suggest that Woodford, Richard – and many others – loved Doris and the investigating officer’s gaze shifts accusingly from face to face as the list of suspects make their appearance.

Is there a doctor in the house? D'Arcy, Boles and La Plante

We have, suspect number two, fellow actor Harvey Carleton (rascally Roy D'Arcy always a menacing glint in his eye), who also had his eye on Ellen then the two Bunce brothers who own the theatre, Josiah (Burr McIntosh) and the mountainous Robert (slapstick legend Mack Swain), who speak at the same time, their intertitle animated to merge the same line. The cop is of Irish decent and smiles favourably at Dublin-born stage manager Mike Brody (Bert Roach) whilst asking everyone about their “personal” experience; the humour quickly defusing the tension of the crime.

Just as we’re forgetting about the murder the coroner arrives to find that the body has disappeared… and we soon switch to a shot of the now-closed theatre, its facia almost like a miserable human as newspaper headlines about the murder flip upright obscuring the view only to melt away along with the prospects of finding the killer.

The headlines blot out the theatre

We move forward five years and Woodford’s assistant Gene (Torben Meyer) still haunts the shadows of his boss’s theatre – the production uses left over sets from the Phantom of the Opera and there’s impressive scale. He’s interrupted from maniacal musings by the return of Brody and stagehand Tommy (Slim Summerville), who thinks everyone is guilty of the murder. A friend of Woodford, Arthur McHugh (Montagu Love who is intimidating in spite of himself), is re-opening the theatre and re-running The Snare with the same cast.

The old gang nervously re-unites and the arrival of terrified old-stager Barbara Morgan (Carrie Daumery) is particularly well done as she screams through spider webs with a neat point of view showing the reaction of the others. Gradually the old team all turn up, even Ellen who’s been off on tour and a new performer Evalynda Hendon (Margaret Livingston, you know, the city girl from Sunrise) who’s legs linger on the lens as we see Big Robert’s salacious appreciation.

Carrie Daumery

Now the drama really kicks on as McHugh tries to snare the killers by re-running the moments of the murder and strange things start happening as secret passageways are revealed and an horrific face appears in the shadows. The game is on.

No spoilers of course, it would take too long anyway… one of those where you just go with the flow and react just like Laura to the twists and turns and those incessant camera tricks. It’s a smashing presentation from Flicker Alley and includes a booklet with an excerpt from John Soister’s Of Gods and Monsters: A Critical Guide to Universal Studios' Science Fiction, Horror and Mystery Films as well as Arthur Barrow’s notes on his score and a visual essay on Paul Leni and The Last Warning. 

Treat yourself via Flicker Alley’s website and all good online retailers.

 

Josephine Baker in the mix

Feline spooky… The Cat and the Canary (1927), Kennington Bioscope with Jeff Rapsis

This film is not so much a horror classic but a major step forward in spooky-comedy, paving the way not just for Bob Hope’s talkie remake but a whole sub-genre of scarily-funny movies. Paul Leni’s film looks great and takes many visual tropes from the German style and injects laughs into the resultant combination of eerie unease. From the opening titles, showing the title revealed by a horned hand wiping away the dust, it makes its intentions known and it really does achieve that balance between the unexpected, the unnerving and the uncannily-timed.

This being the Bioscope, we were treated to a watch of Kevin Brownlow’s own 35mm, one that resulted from his own restoration for Photoplay. We also got an introduction full of the insider jokes and insights from the man who – nearly – met the all, capturing silent stars on tape from the fifties to the eighties and preserving the oral history of the birth of film.

Guest pianist Jeff Rapsis had flown over from Boston in the morning and was full of praise for the Bioscope – and it’s (thankfully) ongoing contribution to keeping alive the art of improvised accompaniment for which a live audience is just essential. “I have no sheet music, I have nothing prepared I just go with the film and the audience…”

Courageous Creighton Hale

The film had long languished in poor quality but in the 1960s KB found a good print and restored it from 35mm nitrate it parodies the horror film, which hadn’t really started to dominate, although it was popular on stage, where this story began John Willard’s 1923 stage play. KB interviewed the camera man, Gilbert Warrenton, who told him that they had to dig into the floor to get the right angles. Extra lights were also needed to create the right dynamics between dark and shard.

Leni used a gong to drill his play’s movements and claimed that the shadows were as important to the film as the characters… and so it was to prove. Kevin also got to talk with the film’s striking star, Laura la Plante, was too shy to be interviewed and by that time had forgotten every detail apart from the costumes. Ultimately, he feels that The C&C is a commercial film, superbly well-made and one that is critically under-recognised, certainly it had a major influence on the Universal horrors of the thirties, especially James Whale’s Cold Dark House.

Martha Mattox feels the chills

It starts with a dark and stormy night, as it simply had to, but the director of Waxworks and collaborator with Lubitsch, May, Dupont and a host of European film-makers, knew what he was doing… The opening section shows mad old Cyrus West’s spires cross fade into milk bottles which imprison him, wheelchair bound, as viscous black cats encircle this crippled canary: his greedy relatives waiting to get their share of his fortune all, as set out in his will, to be unveiled twenty years after his death.

The action moves to the interior of the West mansion and Leni treats us to the works, wonderfully lit settings with Gilbert Warrenton’s camera swooping round corners with alarming grace then careering down blustery corridors as drapes and curtains fly wildly in the wind. This is a place full of dark surprise, bad humour and menace.

There’s a knock on the old door and West’s faithfully grim retainer, Mammy Pleasant (Martha Mattox) – not very motherly or, indeed, pleasant – opens the door which is almost held back by sheer weight of cobwebs. Enter Roger Crosby (Tully Marshall) West’s lawyer, here on the dot, two decades after his death to reveal the contents of the will. Opening the safe he finds a moth and knows someone has forewarned themselves of the contents… but no one else has been in the house only Mammy and her un-living companion who stares down with intent from his portrait.

Laura La Plante

The guests, all soon to be suspects, all save the murdered… arrive and Leni gives us portraits of people with something to hide; eyes darting, greed nervously bubbling just under the surface and desperation enough to make anyone of them suspicious. There’s Harry Blythe (Arthur Edmund Carewe) who’s already dark eyes take on additional edginess and who almost snarls as his estranged cousin Charles "Charlie" Wilder (Forrest Stanley) arrives. Charles has more regular features but nervousness around the eyes and a mouth that suggests weakness and desperation.

Their more senior cousin Susan Sillsby (Flora Finch) arrives with her niece Cecily Young (Gertrude Astor) both clinging on to the hope that there will be a windfall to compensate for the many obvious disappointments that have etched themselves on their faces: Susan old with bitterness and Cecily just on the cusp as youth fades. Cue the comedy. Paul Jones (Creighton Hale) arrives in a miss-firing motor car, breaking to avoid crossing the path of a black cat and then running into the house convinced his engine’s back-fire was an assassin’s bullet. He’s no Bob Hope but he’s funny alright.

The entourage is completed by the arrival of Annabelle West (Laura La Plante) – youngest of the group and seemingly as sane as sixpence. La Plante takes top billing on the film and had some of the sharpest haircuts in all of silent film.

Gertrude Astor and Flora Finch are shocked!

Anna is revealed as the sole beneficiary and becomes the Canary and the trick is to work out who the Cat(s) might be with pretty much everyone looking as guilty as can be… personally I was hoping it might be Creighton Hale. The mysterious deaths begin to happen, sliding panels start to reveal clawed hands and an escaped lunatic is revealed to be on the loose. What’s more, Annabelle must be proven sane in order to qualify for her prize or else her inheritance will go to another.

Who’ll it be? And will anyone from this strange family emerge as the unlikely hero to protect the true heir? There’s the usual miss-direction and emotional disturbance of the humour but it’s still a fun watch: golden rule of all whodunits… make ‘em all look guilty and then gradually provide them with alibis/good character.

Jeff Rapsis brought a confident narrative-driven dynamism to his accompaniment, different from UK players or just a man with his own style? The top players go world-wide and so this is music without boundaries and here he was perhaps more influenced by the film’s origins as much as he was last year when playing for Salt for Svanetia (1930).

He gave it his all and came good on his stated aim of recreating the tone and collective response to this wonderfully funny and slightly scary film!

Michelle Facey and Meg Morley - two cool cats!

There were further feline treats in the first half tonight with lots of Felix the Cat films celebrating the mad-cat adventurer’s centenary. We saw Felix in Hollywood – even Mr Brownlow couldn’t spot all the characters… and snatched of a documentary on the cat’s cool creator.

Meg Morley accompanied and then played accompaniment to the popular hit, Felix Keeps on Walking, for the Bioscope’s resident chanteuse, Michelle Facey, to sing. Michelle sells these songs so well and I think we have the beginnings of a regular spot here… Pamela Hutchinson famously described the Bioscope as London’s Silent Speakeasy and will molls like Michelle and Meg, we only need some feathers and more-illicit hooch and we’re there!! It brings the music to life, a human voice singing clearly in the new, old-fashioned way.

Brava!!

Felix learns the Black Bottom from Ann Pennington

Our guides through the life of Felix, Glenn Mitchell and Dave Wyatt