Showing posts with label The Eagle (1925). Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Eagle (1925). Show all posts

Sunday, 21 March 2021

Rudy can't fail... The Eagle (1925), with Neil Brand, 10th Hippodrome Silent Film Festival

 

Back when Arthur was young, I went to watch Kevin Brownlow introduce this film at East Finchley’s ultimate picture palace, the Phoenix Cinema, and he shared his coversations with one of the silent era’s most calmly professional directors along with clips from films I just had to see. Since then, I’ve watched them on the big screen; Flesh and the Devil (1926), The Signal Tower (1924) and The Goose Woman (1925). Brown never disappoints and brings out the best in his actors; a real warmth of performance amongst the smoothly worked narratives.

 

Watching first time my focus was on Rudolph Valentino as this was the first of his films I’d seen (and I still haven’t seen either The Sheik or The Son of the Sheik…) but now I was watching as much for Louise Dresser, who was so heart-breaking in The Goose Woman and is grand again here playing Csarina Catherine the Great as passionate and impetuous with a penchant for young officers and for executing those who don’t please her.

 

Her scenes with Valentino as the dashing Lt. Vladimir Dubrovsky, are wry – if conflicting - with sexual role-reversal as the predatory monarch tries to get her man tipsy, offers him a career path based on favour and generally behaves like a man. Dubrovsky has enlisted to be a fighter and not a lover and absents himself even though he knows this will seriously affect his prospects both in military life and, well, just life.


Louise Dresser and Rudolph Valentino

 

This isn’t any man Catherine is sexually harassing though, it’s one played by Rudolph Valentino. No other silent actor comes with quite so much baggage as the Latin lover, the man who broke so many hearts that people seemingly took their own lives rather than face up to life without him… Surely, he had to take himself that seriously too? But no, what we find is a very handsome man who can act and who has a deliciously inclusive sense of humour to prick the bubble of heroic pomposity: think Antonio Banderas in an Aldomorvar film: a little camp but in that masculine way only the most “secure” can carry off.

 

Valentino’s Dubrovsky is one of the bravest officers in the imperial elite and arrives at a parade for the Csarina at the film’s start full of promise. He’s a man of action and spotting a runaway carriage he leaps onto the Csarina’s favourite horse, and she did like her horses… (“not true…” says History) and sets off in pursuit – Brown’s cameraman fast behind – pulling level, jumping on and pulling the horses to a halt in classic cowboy style.

 

The party he rescues includes a beautiful young noblewoman, Mascha Troekouroff, played by the delectable Vilma Bánky, who has great chemistry with Valentino and pretty much every single thing around her. She would star with him again in Son of the Sheik, her beauty and intelligence matching his own with a challenge that his persona needs; she’s not being swept off her feet by anyone.


Rudolph and Vilma

 

Pleasantries are exchanged and there’s an instant connection but Mascha ‘s head is not easily turned and her Aunt Aurelia (Carrie Clark Ward) is the one waving enthusiastically after Dubrovsky as their carriage pulls away. He laughs but his quick thinking has earned him that awkward appointment with his Czarina who is more than happy to see her horse returned unharmed…

 

It’s not a good day on balance for Dubrovsky as he receives the news that his father is seriously ill because of his estate and fortune being stolen by the by the villainous Kyrilla Troekouroff (James A. Marcus on fine form). Dubrovsky won’t take this lying down and soon turns himself into a Robin Hood figure – The Black Eagle – who leads his father’s remaining loyal staff into an escalating set of countermeasures aimed at over-throwing the usurper.

 

Encountering a man who has been employed to teach French (incidentally, the language of the Tsarist court even up to the pre-revolutionary period…) to Kyrilla’s daughter, Dubrovsky takes his place as a means of breaking in and causing chaos. Yet, when he arrives, he sees that his student is to be the beautiful girl he rescued in the runaway carriage.


James A. Marcus as the Fearless Kyrilla!

 

Thus, things go as rom-coms go with enough will-they/won’t-they to keep you guessing as Bánky and Valentino work their humorous rapport as far as they can without popping the dramatic bubble. Kyrilla is revealed as more bullying buffoon than despot as the threats of imminent retribution from the Black Eagle un-nerve him more and more: you do wonder how he ever managed to take control of the Dubrovsky estate… still, he does have a bear chained in his wine cellar for playing “jokes” on guests.

 

Brown directs with deceptive efficiency and with more than the odd flourish. Not for nothing was he “blind-tasted” as Lubitsch by one Hollywood insider according to Kevin Brownlow, with some innovative shots including an amazing dolly shot along the full length of Kyrilla’s banquet table. It’s a very well-made film with sumptious sets from the legendary William Cameron Menzies, and the restored print is in superb condition; watching it is indeed, as Mr Brownlow said at the Phoenix, “…seeing silent film as it really was”.

 

Accompaniment was provided by Mr Neil Brand who had dressed for the occasion and entered his music room in colour before sitting down to accompany in back and white. His themes went well beyond those chromatic limitations though and he gave us the rich romance and visceral daring the film deserved. As festival director Alison Strauss put it in her introduction, we were watching “together, alone” and the improvised music gives the immediacy that binds us as viewers, sat in front of screens from Worthing to the Winter Palace.

  

Who is The Black Eagle?! 

The Eagle is now available on spruced up Blu-Ray from Kino and is well worth filing between Camile and The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse if you like your Latin Lover in alpha order or, Monsieur Beaucaire and Cobra if you’re going by date.

 

The Hipp-fun carries on and you can still catch up on most of films, intros and Q&As via the festival website and the Falkirk Community Trust YouTube channel.




Wednesday, 8 May 2013

Kevin Brownlow and Clarence Brown… The Eagle (1925)

Rudy can't fail...
The theory of “six degrees of separation” has morphed into “six degrees of Kevin Bacon”… but how about “two degrees through Kevin Brownlow”?

Mr Brownlow met so many silent actors and directors and through him we have a direct connection to Mary Pickford, Eleanor Boardman, Edward Sloman, Louise Brooks (Louise Brooks!) and... many others. He’s a living link to the silent masters and his role in preserving and regenerating interest in their work is not to be under-estimated.

Watching him introduce Clarence Brown’s 1925 romp,The Eagle, at East Finchley’s Pheonix Cinema, you sense that he would shy away from such praise: he remains incredibly enthusiastic and is far more interested in his subjects than himself.

Vilma Bánky and Rudolph Valentino
Clarence Brown is clearly a director Brownlow thinks has been over-looked and in need of a re-appraisal and he was given due credit in what was rather more than an introduction to this film. The highlight was Mr Brownlow’s personal recollections of meeting Mr Brown and of discussing his work on camera in 1969…even though CB claimed he didn’t think the film was rolling. It’s a fascinating document and Brown is one smart cookie.


Brownlow also took us through lengthy sections of some of Brown’s other films:

- The Goose Woman (1925) – Louise Dresser heart-breaking as the opera singer who has thrown it all away for a broken family (shamefully a film that’s still on my list!)

- The Signal Tower (1924) – an action movie which left us hanging on a cliff-hanger as two trains ran towards collision and Wallace Beery menaced Virginia Valli

- Smouldering Fires (1925) - Pauline Frederick as the ahead-of-her-time, macho factory owner who we suspect may need to learn about love and work-life balance

- Flesh and the Devil (1926) Greta Garbo smouldering with John Gilbert in the first of their many romances.

Garbo is the actress most associated with Brown who directed her in seven films including a number of talkies, he’s a much under-appreciated part of her success. But we were here to see another silent star and one I had never watched before, Mr Rudolph Valentino (I know… what can I say...).

Rudolph Valentino
No other silent actor can come with quite so much baggage as the Latin lover, the man who broke so many hearts that people seemingly took their own lives rather than face up to life without him… Surely he had to take himself that seriously too?

But no, what we find is a very handsome man who can act and who has a deliciously inclusive sense of humour to prick the bubble of heroic pomposity: think Antonio Banderas in an Aldomorvar film: a little camp but in a masculine way only real men can carry off!

Valentino is Lt. Vladimir Dubrovsky one of the bravest officers in the imperial elite serving the Czarina, Catherine (Louise Dresser). Spotting a runaway carriage he leaps onto his horse and sets off in pursuit, jumping on and pulling the horses to a halt.

Insert inappropriate comment here...
The party he rescues includes a beautiful young noblewoman, Miss Mascha Troekouroff (played by the delectable Vilma Bánky)… pleasantries are exchanged but he has an appointment with a more significant suitor, his Czarina.

Dresser doesn’t get much screen time but she’s, er... great as Catherine who struggles to negotiate the conflicts between her royal duties and her heart. She asks the young officer if he wants to be a general and almost swoons as he salutes her. But Dubrovsky has other duties to attend to in the form of his ill father whose estate and fortune are under threat.

Albert Conti and Louise Dresser
He runs away from his mistress’ proposal and she promptly puts a price on his head for desertion. Luckily for Catherine there is another officer – Dubrovsky’s pal Captain Kuschka (Albert Conti) who does want to be a general… and rather more besides.

Sadly Dubrovsky is not able to make it home to stop his father losing all as he dies leaving his land to be grabbed by the villainous Kyrilla Troekouroff (James A. Marcus, as cowardly as he is gluttonous).

Dubrovsky won’t take this lying down and turns himself into a Robin Hood figure – The Black Eagle – who leads his father’s remaining loyal staff into an escalating set of counter-measures aimed at over-throwing the usurper.

The Black Eagle and his merry men
Encountering a man who has been employed to teach French (incidentally, the language of the Tsarist court even up to the pre-revolutionary period…) to Kyrilla’s daughter, Dubrovsky takes his place as a means of breaking in and causing chaos.

Yet, when he arrives he sees that his student is to be the beautiful girl he rescued…

Valentino, James A. Marcus and Vilma Bánky
Thus things go as rom-coms go with love/hate heading only the one way for Dubrovsky and Mascha… Bánky and Valentino have tremendous rapport and she allows him to show his heroic humour.

Gradually Kyrilla is revealed as more buffoon than despot as the threats of imminent retribution from the Black Eagle un-nerve him more and more: you do wonder how he ever managed to take control of the Dubrovsky estate.

Dinner is served
Brown directs with a sure touch (not for nothing was he “blind-tasted” as Lubitsch by one Hollywood insider) and some innovative shots including an amazing dolly shot along the full length of Kyrilla’s banquet table. It’s a very well-made film and the print on view is in superb condition – watching it is indeed, as Mr Brownlow said, seeing silent film as it really was.

Accompaniment throughout was provided by Stephen Horne who really showed his versatility in the introductory mix – I especially liked the The Signal Tower’s dramatic train collision.  For the main feature his lyrical lines added flavour to the love story whilst he used a mix of flute, electronic keyboard and accordion to enrich the adventure.

Hearing silent film as it really was…

There’s a cheap DVD release for The Eagle but I would urge you to catch it if it is shown again and hopefully Kevin Brownlow will introduce it further. Time for a Clarence Brown season at the BFI perhaps?