Look sharp! My year in silents, 2024.

As Millicent Martin – Daphne’s mum in Frasier – almost sang, That Was the Year, That Was and I realise that’s a cultural reference to a satirical TV show popular in the UK 60 years ago but the films I’m about to list are from half a century earlier so… keep up! We’re increasingly in a world in which everything is happening at the same time, an all-at-once cultural smorgasbord from which every generation picks what they want and new controversies rise from old in cinemas, Talking Pictures TV, $treaming sites and our beloved retailers. This is the best I can do in the post festive drop down especially as I don’t really do New Year. It’s always best to look beyond and push straight on through to the other side, even if that’s 2025 and all that goes with it but we can take it, we’ve not only been there and seen it all before, we’ve experienced it ever-present in films, books and what used to be called “social” media. So, I remember the passing year and rage into the next, thinking of the very best in my opinion and in no particular order!

 

1.       Get Your Man (1927) with Meg Morley, BFI

She will make a fine wife, son. Imagine an innocent young girl… in an age when there aren’t any!

The BFI kicked off the year with a couple of fine seasons, one focused on the iconoclastic programming of the old Scala cinema and another on the almost unique filmography of director Dorothy Arzner who was able to smash the Hollywood glass ceiling with a mixture of brilliance and independence. She worked with Bow on her first talkie, The Wild Party (1929), also screened, and this rarely-screened gem which was shown on a precious 35mm recovery/restoration and even though it’s still missing a couple of reels, still impressed as Clara’s supernatural energies were allowed full expression

It was indeed, as the BFI blurb put it, “a triumphant celebration of female sexuality…” a modern day fairy-tale set in France and where Bow’s character wins over the heart of rich boy Charles “Buddy” Rogers in a lovely sequence set in a wax museum choreographed by Arzner’s partner Marion Morgan. Clara’s pluck blows away every obstacle and dusty preconception as l’ancien régime has to surrender to classless, young love.

 

2.       The Rugged Island: A Shetland Lyric (1933), with Inge Thomson, Catriona Macdonald, HippFest at Home

This film sits amongst better-known works of the thirties showing island life on the extremes but actually predates Robert J. Flaherty’s docudrama Man of Aran (1934) – the Irish island, not Arran. Director Jenny Gilbertson (née Brown) had made a number of short documentaries and was encouraged to make this film by the great Scottish documentary filmmaker John Grierson, director of Drifters (1929) and the man who coined the term "documentary" in a review of Flaherty's Moana (1926).

The result is every inch as powerfully evocative as these other films with Jenny’s previous experience of the island, the documentary A Crofter’s Life in Shetland (1931), showing a year in the life of the rugged folk of Hjaltland… more Norse than Gallic and only 30 miles closer to Scotland than Norway. She was self-trained and this is even more remarkable when you consider that she not only wrote but filmed and edited her work. The Rugged Island is a drama and yet it still feels like a genuine intrusion on the lives being portrayed, the irony here being that Gilbertson’s was sometimes described as an “amateur” and yet clearly she was consummate in terms of technique and direction with only one professional actor - Enga Stout – with the rest being her friends and others she’d cast locally.

This is exactly why I shall be returning in person for the next Hippfest in March ’25!

3.       East Lynne (1913) Restoration Premiere with Colin Sell, Kennington Bioscope

Oh, Willie, my child dead, dead, dead! and he never knew me, never called me mother!

As Christopher Bird said in his introduction, East Lynne is not a lost film as such but when quality is, as Kevin Brownlow says, the main thing archive cinema has to sell itself to modern audiences, this film has certainly been missing in terms of the vibrancy, contrast and tasty tints we glimpsed today. Chris obtained an almost complete nitrate copy from a private collector which, compared with the black and white copy held by the BFI is missing the first reel but comes with an extra three minutes and those higher quality tints. Together with fellow Bioscoper Bob Geoghegan and the BFI the restoration work is ongoing and the hope is to present the finished item at Le Giornate del Cinema Muto in Pordenone.

Even Rachel Lowe admired this British film and it’s a visual feast as it is with good use of depth-of-field, form and texture by director Bert Haldane and his photographer Oscar Bovill. That said, there are some impressive performances from a very modern-looking cast led by Blanche Forsythe as Lady Isobel, handsome Fred Paul and the steadfast Archibald Carlyle and who-ever it was playing Barbara Hare, the sister of the man falsely accused of a murder committed by Isobel’s would be paramour, Captain Levison, as played with pantomime menace by Fred Morgan.

This screening was part of the Bioscope’s 7^th Silent Film Weekender and it’s hard to compete with the range and passion of this gathering of like minds in Charlie’s old workhouse.

 

4.       The Phantom Carriage (1921), with Stephen Horne, Kennington Bioscope

 

After a few years of this silent film business, you have seen most of the cannon and have your own list of The Greats but all such classifications are blown out of the window when you see a screening like tonight’s with the right venue, the right audience and a supernatural accompaniment from Mr Stephen Horne that not only sent chills but brought out the full flavour of Victor Sjöström’s film and, indeed his own performance.

Not only was Sjöström probably Sweden’s finest silent film maker, he ranks as one of the finest of any era. Here with his fourth adaptation of one of Selma Lagerlöf’s works, he shows again why he is such a good interpreter of her work. Selma’s work is passionate and poetic and deceptively complex in expression and narrative form but I think Sjöström got her depth of meaning more than his contemporaries Stiller and Molander. As his thoroughly-disturbing performance shows, he may well have had a personal connection with this story as Chris Bird suggested in his introduction, for the Swede’s father was abusive and alcoholic just as his character David Holm. A film that never ceases to smash through the door and grab you.

Gerda Lundquist

5.       Gösta Berling’s Saga (1924), with Matti Bye, Eduardo Raon and Silvia Mandolini, Il Cinema Ritrovato XXXVII

"Finally, the vicar was in the pulpit..."

It’s fair to say that my Christmas came early with this presentation of this latest version from the Swedish Film Institute which is not just a restoration of the Saga but a remix and extended cut being not only some 20 minutes longer than the 1975 restoration which most of us have only seen up till now via the Kino release. It’s also in a slightly different narrative order with the party sequences and their two dramatic exiles re-sequenced as well as variations elsewhere, with a more dynamic mix for the burning of Ekeby and Gösta’s rescue of Marianne, a longer intro and new intertitles that carry more of the original author’s poetic wonder.

Now, I’m not saying that Mauritz Stiller’s magnificent adaptation of Selma Lagerlöf’s epic novel is perfect in fact there’s a reason he was no higher than her second favourite film director of the Nobel Prize winning author*, but the ambition wins you over along with incredible lead performances. Lars Hanson oozes confusion guilt and self-loathing, Gerda Lundequist – Sweden’s Sarah Bernhardt, a legendary stage actor – brings her power and poise to the screen whilst Jenny Hasselqvist, who had a parallel career as prima ballerina with the Royal Swedish Ballet, is magnetic, micro-managing physicality with emotional expression. There’s also young Greta Gustafson who radiates an unknowing allure that would see her soon off to Hollywood with a name change, some dental work and flattering lighting.

The restoration is crisp and revelatory, never has the camera work of the great Julius Jaenzon here looked so fine from the gorgeous sweeps of the lakes and forests to the shots on set and the performer’s expressions. It’s an epic restored in an epic way and I can’t wait to see it again at the BFI on Sunday 19^th January where I promise to keep my introduction short and to the point!

Ticket details here!

 

6.       Judex (1915-16), accompanied by many hands, Il Cinema Ritrovato XXXVII

 

I can’t deny that there was a sense of triumph having watched the whole series and thoroughly enjoyed Louis Feuillade’s sense of drama, his eye for dynamic framing, his direction and team building and his ability to keep the narrative ball rolling even when you think he’s backed himself into a dramatic dead end. That’s 12 episodes and one big Prologue with not a second missed for lack of sleep, breakfast or headache… probably!

 

It's not quite up there with Les Vampires but it does have the essentiality of Musidora playing Diana Monti aka Marie Verdier, a scheming opportunist who becomes more and more dominant the longer the story unwinds. Judex himself as played by René Cresté, is a goodie version of Fantômas, part Sherlock Holmes, maybe part Eugène-François Vidocq – an actual French criminal turned criminalist. Feuillade had been criticised for glorifying his evil masterminds and so here was one of good intent even if he does kidnap and fake the death of the businessman responsible for his father’s death and many others, Favraux (Louis Leubas) before imprisoning him for life in a remote castle. And that’s just the start…

7.       Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em (1926), BFI with Meg Morley

 

This blog has been driven by obsession and a subjective emotional “canon” from its earliest days (no, please don’t look!) and Louise Brooks has, of course been the main one, with a copy of Pandora’s Box on DVD bought from a second-hand shop in Park Street, Bristol in 2005 starting off the whole interest – yes, Bristol, it’s really your fault! This film is one of the few remaining unseen on-screen and viewing the BFI’s worn, warm and wonderful 16mm flickering on the NFT2 screen, with Meg Morley’s wonderful syncopations and sparkling improvisations following an introduction from Bryony Dixon has, to paraphrase the poet, helped make not only my day, my week, my month and even my year.

They may have been chalk and cheese but Evelyn Brent and Louise Brooks make for a good team in this light-hearted drama in which the former plays the sensible big sister who has to rescue her less sensible sibling from all kinds of trouble. It’s a gas and we do get to see Brooksie dance which is always a bonus!

 

Conchita Montenegro

8.       The Woman and the Puppet (1929), with Günter A. Buchwald, Bonn Silent Film Festival 2024 streaming

Every so often a silent film not only surprises you but pulls you to the edge of your armchair and has you blinking at the screen in delight. So, it is with the story and the actress in La femme et le pantin (1929) in which Conchita Montenegro’s dancer not only beguiles and bewilders her puppet, Don Mateo, she completely un-mans him in the most feminist of ways reaching right out from 1929 with dazzling power and beauty. If anyone has a thousand ships that need launching… here’s your woman!

 

Based on Pierre Louÿs’ 1898 novel of the same name, the story was adapted as an opera in 1911 by composer Riccardo Zandonai, and it was also filmed as That Obscure Object of Desire (1977) by Luis Buñuel. The first film version was an American film made in 1920 and directed by Reginald Barker, starring Geraldine Farrar, which is a little surprising given Louÿs’ background of erotic prose and poetry. Indeed, he was the man to whom Oscar Wilde dedicated the original French publication of Salome. Director de Baroncelli’s film is presumably far bolder than any Hollywood film could have been as, indeed, is his star performer and, it’s difficult to see anything like a literal adaptation being made anywhere else but France at this time. It is an eye-popping and an expectation-confounding work!

 

9.       The Blue Bird (1918) with Neil Brand and Elizabeth-Jane Baldry, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto

Maurice Tourneur's film featured regular collaborators such as art director Ben Carré, cinematographer John van den Broke and editor Clarence Brown. This was silent psychedelia in full bloom at a time when the World needed to believe in eternal truths and the truth of eternity. When in the heart of their fantastic journey to find the Blue Bird, the two youngsters meet not only their dead grandparents but their dead brothers and sisters, there are at least ten of them... this was a time when infant mortality was high and life came with the flimsiest of "guarantees".

The film is a sumptuous collection of such moments and visual set pieces, a hyper-creative comfort blanket that smuggles through the simple message that there's not only no place like home but that kindness must spread out from there into the heart-broken World beyond. Tourneur draws pure and naturalistic performances from his cast of children, 12-year old Tula Belle as Mytyl and Robin Macdougall as Tyltyl who react and act with genuine thrill to every new wonder. It's a child's film with many adult concerns.

The accompaniment from Neil Brand on piano and Elizabeth-Jane Baldry on harp brought the magic out across the auditorium and melted our stubborn hearts.

 

10.   Saxaphon-Susi (1928) with Neil Brand, Frank Bockius and Francesco Bearzatti, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto

 

Miss Saxophone was the most legal of highs, a mood-altering event with fabulous cast and sincerely joyous accompaniment from a powerhouse ensemble that left the Teatro Verdi at severe risk of an outbreak of dancing! Up on screen we had Anny Ondra showing us how fine she could look and how well she could dance and also make comedy – not for nothing should she have been called the Czech Republic’s Queen of Happiness or maybe most of Europe’s. She plays Anni von Aspen, a poor little rich girl daughter of the lecherous Baron von Aspen (the marvellous Gaston Jacquet) who wants to trade places with her working gal pal Susi Hille (Mary Parker), a cabaret dancer who gets the chance to become a Tiller Girl in London. They swap assignments with Susi heading off to posh school and Anni having to learn her dancing ropes fast.

On the boat over they meet some fine English gentlemen including Lord Herbert Southcliffe (Malcolm Tod) who takes a bet that he can get in to meet the Tiller Girls backstage and then another bet that he will marry this special one called Susi (Anni)… It’s not much of a plot but it’s enough to make this amongst the most enjoyable and warmest of comedies with this fabulously charming cast.

Any programmers reading… I think I’d like to see this one again please! 

 

Ra Messerer

11.   The Second Wife (1927) with Gunter Buchwald and Frank Bockius, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto

 

To Uzbekistan and this extraordinary film from Mikhail Devonov based on a story by Lolakhon Saifullina, a polish woman who married an Uzbek man and converted to Islam. It’s a reflection of the enormity of the old USSR and the challenges Moscow faced in co-ordinating so many diverse cultures into one modernising state. Saifullina worked for the Sharq Yulduzi studio writing scripts sensitive to the issues of Uzbeki women her along with former legal consultant Valentina Sobberey. The result is a tale in which women and children are exploited by old male custom and dominance even as the modern day watcher is aware of the wider context of Stalin’s impending first Five Year Plan and the eventual costs of converting an agrarian economy into an industrialised one.

Director Devonov does not lapse into bucolic orientalism and focuses on the story and the depiction of prevalent practices of early marriage and polygamy. Here a merchant’s first wife Khadycha cannot have children and so he has a second wife, Adoliat (Ra Messerer) who can.  A child duly arrives and Khadycha tries to destroy her competitor. She is far from alone in malevolence as his brother Sadiqbai (Mikhail Doronin), steals money whilst his older brother is away and also preys on young boys, as things escalate elsewhere. It’s propagandist but still shows the harshness of unresolved “tradition” and male power.

 

Eille looks down at Alexandra Palace, photo credit Yves Salmon 

12.   Silent Sherlock, London Film Festival, Alexandra Palace Theatre with Neil Brand, Joseph Havlat and Joanna MacGregor with Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble

 

This was the grandest of archival screenings at the London Film Festival for some time and featured the first fruits of the BFI’s restoration of Stoll Films Sherlock Holmes films. The Stoll corporation made three series of 15 episodes and two feature films, all featuring Eille Norwood as the great detective a performer that Conan Doyle approved of in the role, both on stage and on screen. The three films featured new scores from Neil Brand, Joseph Havlat and Joanna MacGregor who conducted the Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble, leading from the piano.

 

The programme is ongoing and I can’t wait for the further adventures of both the BFI Restoration Team as well as The Great Detective in 2025.

 

My 1924 Danish promotional booklet... Book Now for 19th!!

 

*Lagerlöf berated Mauritz Stiller for his adaptation of The Gösta Berling Saga calling it “cheap and sensational”.

Queenie Marie… The Sideshow (1928), with Cyrus Gabrysch, Kennington Bioscope

There was magic in the air tonight in Kennington, together with passion and the Christmas joy of sharing a present, unwrapped in front of the entire room – a film no-one had seen before, a surprise to everyone, not a sideshow but very much the main event. The Bioscope’s MC, Michelle Facey, has been in pursuit of this film for over two years as part of her ongoing mission to restore Marie Prevost to cinematic consciousness and to help rehabilitate an actor so wronged by the puerile taletelling of Mr K Anger as well as a studio system that discarded her in such a callous way in the thirties.

 

Anyone whose seen Prevost in Lubitsch’s Marriage Circle or even her brief but vital role in Three Women, knows what a powerful performer she was and how she holds the eye like few others from the period with relaxed expressiveness, flashes of wit across her huge eyes and a smile that knows far more than it seems to be letting on. She’s got range and moved from being one of Mack Sennett’s bathing beauties to sophisticated comedies as well as dramas like this one, adding charm and depth to her already compelling screen magnetism.

 

Michelle had been searching out more of Marie’s films and tonight’s 35mm print was from a 2003 restoration held in the vaults of UCLA which took much dogged negotiation including providing proof of the Bioscope and Cinema Museum’s capabilities as well as a reference from the BFI. Nothing phases Facey when it comes to film history and tonight was yet another special evening with this screening of a film that has only been shown three times this century and not in the UK since – probably – its year of release.

 

The Sideshow is not a major film but it is a very unusual film and one with much to recommend in terms of entertainment and historical context. It’s a Prevost vehicle which represents her at near the height of her popularity and noteworthy for that reason alone in showing us her star power but it’s also a film that features a little person as a major character and not just a circus amusement. 'Little Billy' Rhodes plays P.W. Melrose, a cigar-chomping owner of his own circus, having risen through the ranks after starting out as a side show performer himself.

 

He's an astute and determined businessman who looks after his people and, mostly, has good grace and sound judgement. A couple of drunken men show him disrespect as his right-hand man Gentleman Ted Rogers (Ralph Graves) hails the acts in the circus side show – even after Ted tells them he owns the circus – but Melrose has heard it all before a thousand times and walks off chewing on his ever-present cigar.

 

It's a really good performance from Rhodes who was abandoned by his father once his condition was identified and, after experiencing what he described as dreadful poverty, was taken in by a showman who acted as his manager as he progressed from Vaudeville to Broadway and then onto films. He later appeared in The Wizard of Oz but here is not only the smartest man in the room, he’s also romantically interested in a new arrival at the circus.

 

Cue Marie Prevost as acrobat Queenie who has come in search of work after her family trapeze act disbands. She has an instant rapport with Ted but Melrose fall for her too. Meanwhile strange accidents keep on happening at the circus, an explosion in the payroll caravan and the death of a trapeze artist which looks like his equipment was sabotaged. Queenie comforts his daughter and Melrose tells her mother that he’ll keep on paying her late husband’s wages as long as he’s running the circus. Queenie tells him he’s a good man but his gruff exterior hides his broken heart.

 

It's pretty clear that someone is working on behalf of a competitor who has already tried to buy Melrose’s circus and now wants to lower the price… well, they should definitely pick on someone their own size.

 

Billy, Marie and Ralph Graves on a very collectable lobby card!

The film shows a lot of circus life both in the big tent with genuine acrobats, magicians and clowns along with the sideshow staples, the Tall Man (R.E. 'Tex' Madsen), “Fat Lady” (Martha McGruger), Thin Man (Chester Morton), Fire Eater (Jacques Ray), knife-thrower (Steve Clemente) and his long-suffering assistant (Janet Ford), Tattooed Man (Bert Price) and, putting Lon Chaney to shame, an Armless Man (Paul Desmuke) who can open his own bottles and light his own cigarettes! As with Little Billy in real life, the options for these outsiders were limited in the America of the time and “show” business in a human zoo was better than most.

 

Erle C. Kenton directs this tale very effectively and there’s some excellent scenes aboard a train as double crossers try to dispose of Ted by getting him to stick his neck out and look for the next signal, an old trick which involves pushing the distracted passenger off to their doom. Elsewhere, the sheer number of sharp objects dangerous practices on site easily enables the creation of a sense of jeopardy as Melrose’s crew finally realise that there’s a traitor in their midst leading to a breathless finale.

 

The review in Variety February 1929 damned with faint praise, “It’s not badly done and the old circus stuff somehow holds together for a story…” before being so grossly offensive it made Kenton’s point for him by saying that it was “impossible” to make a hero out of a “freak”. You wonder at the mentality which cruelly pervaded this America that some want to make great again as if all compassion and understanding was holding it back somehow.

 

Against this is the marvel of Marie who is exactly the kind of advanced caring soul the planet always needs and who’s acting always contains such humanity and heart as much in comedy as drama. This may have been a mid-budget Columbia “quickie” but she gives it her all as she always does, grounds the story and raises the emotional stakes in the manner of a true star.

 

Cyrus Gabrysch, the Bioscope’s founder, accompanied in dramatic fashion losing the audience in this rarity as yet again Kennington hosted the rare and almost impossible to see and appreciate. Had Michelle not fought so hard to bring Marie to Charlie’s house we would have had to rely on secondary sources such as Variety which we can all now attest was wrong-headed on this film and which utterly underestimated the persuasive Prevost!

.

Marie in a basket... what could possibly go wrong?

On tonight’s undercard we also saw some delightful shorts:

 

Bill and the Greasy Pole (1911) in which “Bill” must carry a twenty-foot pole through Paris to a fir and… it’s very difficult to hold onto.

 

Rope Making by Hand in Kent (1912) was truly fascinating showing the entire process from raw materials to groups twisting long sections together using wooden tools and elbow grease. I could watch this film for hours.

 

A Christmas Carol (1910) was the Edison version and summed up Dickens’ classic in around a dozen minutes. Directed by J. Searle Dawley it featured both Viola Dana and her sister Shirley Mason (their family name was Flugrath) as Bob Cratchit’s children. Scrooge’s nephew was played by Harold M. Shaw who later married their elder sister Edna Marie Flugrath who was also an actor.

 

A marvellous Christmas treat especially with maestro John Sweeney accompanying!

So, the Bioscope goes from strength to strength and thank you to all the collectors, programmers, projectionists, and helpers who make everything work so well. A particular cheer for the dynamic Michelle Facey for her Prevost perseverance and excellent introduction which showed such diligence and commitment to her subject. We sometimes forget that the KB runs on passion alone and what a spectacular engine that is!

 

Here's to 2025!

Spot the Flugraths!

Cabin fever… By the Law (1926), Barbican with Stephen Horne and Martin Pyne

It is a simple matter to see the obvious, to do the expected… When the unexpected does happen, however, and when it is of sufficiently grave import, the unfit perish. … unable to do the unexpected, (they) are incapable of adjusting their well-grooved lives... In short, when they come to the end of their own groove, they die.

Jack London, The Unexpected (1906)

 

There were several moments as this extraordinary film reached its climax when I lost track of which musician was making which noise so closely aligned were Stephen Horne and Martin Pyne, especially as the former plucked the heavy strings whilst hammering their keys and Martin used snare, cymbal and bass drum in rapid polyrhythmic clusters. This was a classic Sunday afternoon Barbican silent film screening and the accompaniment plus the kind of knowledgeable and adventurous audience created such an atmosphere with this film that it was irresistibly entertaining. We were also left challenged by the force of Lev Kuleshov’s film and the eternal questions it addressed: mortality and morality, gold at the heart of all evil, a Soviet version of Greed, a proto noir mixed with post-revolutionary nervous exhaustion…

 

Now, I don’t suppose Jack London had all this in mind when he wrote The Unexpected*, the short story on which this film was based, in 1905**. That said, at 21 he had joined the Klondike Gold Rush goldrush in July 1897, with his sister's husband, one Captain Shepard. He suffered as many others did from malnutrition in the cold remote conditions and developed scurvy, losing four of his front teeth… and being marked for life by striations on his face. Later on, he covered the Russo-Japanese War in early 1904 for the San Francisco Examiner which saw him briefly imprisoned in Japan: honestly, he makes Ernest Hemmingway look a little lightweight!

 

So it was that London’s prose was filled with his personal experience of otherwise civilised folk faced with having to adapt to new “grooves” as the quote at the top references and you can see how the frozen wastes of the Yukon, the ephemeral nature of capitalist values and the poison at its heart enabled Kuleshov to, just about, get funding from Soviet production company Goskino for what was the cheapest film made in Russia, as the Barbican’s programmer, Tamara Anderson, said in her introduction pointed out that this might be a record that it still holds.

 

We had faces then... Aleksandra Khokhlova

The results are extraordinary on any budget, with superb performances from the director’s wife Aleksandra Khokhlova, her screen husband as played by Sergei Komarov and especially Vladimir Fogel as the villain of the piece… or is he? That is the question or rather the willingness of the others to decide on his crime and subsequent punishment.

 

It’s interesting for a soviet Russian film to have kept the story’s Yukon setting but this is a film about greed and the “rules” of society. The protagonists are five emigrees from old Europe all in search of gold and the freedom it will bring. Their leader is the Swedish Hans Nelson (Komarov) who is married to the English Edith (Khokhlova) whilst Dutchy’s country of origin speaks for itself (he’s played by Porfiri Podobed). Then there’s Harky (Pyotr Galadzhev) and the Irish Michael (Fogel) who is the butt of a lot of the camp’s jokes as well as being the manual labourer – the class system is alive and well even in miniature.

 

We find the group preparing for the day as Michael fetches water from the river and plays his penny whistle for his dog – much to the slight annoyance of Hans – but to our delight especially as it gave Mr Horne the chance to weave some playful lines on his flute. Michael’s easy-going nature is curtailed by his duties and after cooking breakfast for the team he is told to prepare the equipment for relocation after Hans announces that the current location will not produce the gold they want. Having just sat down to eat he shares a bemused look before trudging of, breakfast interrupted, leaving the others to pick off his food.

 

Michael is however just about to save their bacon, as it were, when during the dismantling of the mine he gives the waters one last chance and slushing the dregs around a washing pan finds the golden nuggets at last. As he labours we repeatedly cut back to the camp with the other four lounging in the early morning sub smoking and relaxing after eating their meals and his. They quickly absorb his role in reversing their fortunes and celebrate by dancing together, his exclusion a signal of the mockery to come now that he has made them rich.

 

Vladimir Fogel

Things reach a head after Michael returns from hunting to find them eating lunch without him and laughing about his “envy” – the standard slur for the workers from Capital - and the tone shifts in an instance as, gun in hand he blasts first Harky – who slumps forward almost comically, head balanced in his food and preventing the table from collapse – and then Dutchy. The other two are in shock but Edith responds the quicker trying to wrest the gun away as her husband sits slack jawed before finally pounding Michael into submission. It’s the most desperate scene and, as London had written, completely unexpected.

 

Now Hans and Edith tie Michael up and must treat him as a prisoner through the long winter months until he can be tried “by the law” … What follows is an exploration of the morality of these cultured people in the circumstances of wild nature as the cabin is flooded and isolated in bitter conditions, can they hold out till Spring to take their man to the police and the courts and where does the authority of the law reside?

 

Edith clutches her bible and Hans is the more pragmatic but still restrained by his own code and Kuleshov makes the most of the tension with quick cuts interspersed with frequent close-ups and the constant reminder of their isolation on the freezing lake. Michael meanwhile has an unknowable, conflicted persona, the hard-working whistler who looks after his dog and who was turned into a rage by hard-hearted teasing and who seems unable or unwilling to explain why he killed.

 

The management relax as their worker discovers their fortune...

There is so much to work out in the film and a number of possible readings and it was a privilege to be sat head scratching with the rest of the audience as Stephen and Martin whipped up the most visceral improvisations for the wild interiors of this battering wilderness. Food for the heart and mind at the Barbican as you would expect.

 

*Published in McClure's Magazine, Aug 1906, London's story is apparently based upon actual events involving prospectors at Latuya Bay, Alaska 1900. Details here from historian David Reamer in the Anchorage Daily News.

 

**The script, co-written with Viktor Shklovsky also incorporated elements of London’s story, Just Meat (1907).

Jack London prospecting in Alaska 1897, he was just 21.

Ruthless Robinson - Black Tuesday (1954), Eureka Masters of Cinema #300

 

I’ve got those Black Tuesday blues

Black Tuesday, Black Tuesday,

I pray for that day to never come…

That’s when my life on this earth will be done.

 

There’s a certain formula to noir, even though only the French had codified the form at this point, yet the use of these elements doesn’t preclude the possibilities of refining the components and making a film that both engages and leaves the jaded modern viewer impressed and not a little shocked. So it is with Hugo Fregonese’s Black Tuesday which is now being released in a crystal clear 4k transfer from those fabulous folk at Eureka. Not being familiar with the work of this much travelled Argentinian director I have to conclude on this evidence at least that he is indeed a master of cinema. I want to see more and could have seen more at Bologna’s Cinema Ritrovato in 2022 when a retrospective of his work clashed with my usual pursuit of silent film restorations.

 

The film is the last of the much-travelled Fregonese’s in Hollywood and represents the darkest of takes on the nature of crime and humanity’s rules of survival. As critic and co-director of Il Cinema Ritrovato Ehsan Khoshbakht, who programmed the retrospective says, it has the biggest “kick” of the director’s films in terms of morality and nihilism. Noir was well populated with anti-heroes but few as genuinely frightening as Edward G. Robinson’s Canelli whose logic still stands in an era of global anti-truth and burgeoning conflicts. Might is right has never changed, and we’re about to see this creed tested again over the next few years.

 

For Fregonese escape was a way of life for his characters, it certainly was for him based on his field of operations and, much as we feel the flight or flight in 2024, there’s little comfort to be offered in Black Tuesday even as we’re engaged in the taught narrative for the get-go.

 

Edward G Robinson

The opening is as stylish show of flair that marks this mid-budget film out from most of its peers as we enter the cells of condemned men all counting down the days and in some cases hours until their fate. One man, Sylvester (Don Blackman) starts tapping out a rhythm on his stool and singing a plaintive song about Black Tuesday, the traditional day for public executions in the USA and as his words roll out the camera tracks across the faces of the men. Canelli prowls his cage like a lion full of hate and guile, still looking for any chance, then the cool and collected Manning (Peter Graves) still working on an intricate match-stick model of a bridge where possibly he has stashed $200,000 of stolen money) and then onto one prisoner who cannot stand the music and its reminder of his impending fate.

 

They all appear doomed and yet, the scene shifts to a couple sitting outside the prison in a car, Canelli’s lady friend Hatti (Jean Parker) and one of his men, who are watching one of the prison guards Norris (James Bell) being dropped off by his daughter Ellen (Sylvia Findley). At the end of the day when the guard gets home he finds Hatti sitting inside his house with an offer he simply can’t refuse if he wants to see his girl again. Once again the camera angles are ramped up to highlight Hatti’s measured menace and as Norris sits down in his chair there’s a cross-fade to the electric chair being prepared for Canelli and Manning a foreshadowing of the guard’s own fate as much as theirs.

 

The film had benefited enormously from restoration and has a distinctive look anyway. Kodak Tri-X film used for the first time in a feature film and, as it was much more sensitive to low light conditions without impacting film grain, it enabled high contrast and easier setups in terms of artificial lighting. It helped enable the dynamic use of deep focus and depth of field by cinematographer Stanley Cortez who worked on The Magnificent Ambersons and, the following year, Charles Laughton’s brilliant Night of the Hunter. He spans the gap between expressionism and noire here creating a crystal-clear view of the darkness at the heart of men.

 

Depth of feels: James Bell and Peter Graves 

So many shots are simply stunning especially when Canelli, in extreme close-up, is telling the prison guard Norris that if he wants to see his daughter alive again, he better co-operate. Norris’ face is shown in profile in focus with Manning’s in the neighbouring cell, both are in sharp focus heightening this crucial moment and Norris’ fearful distraction. Canelli’s cackle when he knows he has his man is genuinely chilling… the perfect meld of performance, lens and direction as a good man is brought down and the escape plan is on…

 

Then there is the night of the men’s execution with the scene a in a starkly lit room with the journalists and onlookers jostling for the best view of the death scene about to spark in front of them. They enter filmed from a low angle with the electric chair looming large in the opposite corner. Norris fulfils his part of the bargain by strapping a gun under a chair which Canelli’s man Joey (Warren Stevens the star to be of Forbidden Planet and hundreds of TV episodes), impersonating a newspaper man, retrieves it and launches the escape plan.

 

After a tense shoot out during which Manning is injured the men are picked up by a van and, after dropping off the other three from death row, more as a police distraction than a favour, Canelli arrives at the warehouse Hatti has prepared. They have brought the prison doctor (Vic Perrin) to tend to Manning as he and his $200,000 are very much part of Canelli’s plan. There’s also the prison chaplain Father Slocum (Milburn Stone) who more than anything is to provide a moral equivalence for the gang in the desperate hours to come. Norris’ daughter is also there along with Carson (Jack Kelly) the journalist replaced by Joey along with one of the prison guards, the one who really used to needle Canelli.

 

This stage of the film is even more intense than the first half as death hovers even closer to life than in death row as the gang are discovered and a siege begins. Canelli has no intention of surrender and starts to execute his hostages as the police close in. It’s the interactions between the “good” and the “bad” characters that keep the interest though, how can these men insist on other lives being worth less than their own? Is there no morality other than survival of the meanest and the basest of motives. The film pushes these questions to the absolute limit and the cast are universally up to the task.

 

First amongst these is, of course Robinson and for once the press puff was right in claiming this as the most ruthless Robinson of all time! His Canelli is not only believable but likeable in some moments, it’s like The Sopranos half a century earlier, business is business and ruthless is the way with apologies if the innocent just happen to get in the way.  

 

Eshan Khoshbakht describes Fregonese as “a master of creating claustrophobic spaces…” and the film with its sparse empty sound stages, unseen threat, sharp angles and extraordinary cinematography, is unpredictably engaging right to the end. I’m not surprised that the Nation Legion of Decency rated it “B” for “excessive brutality and low moral tone…” but the real horror is the amorality and not the manner of these deaths but their justification.

 

This is all typical of the director’s work as Khoshbakht points out, recalling the common themes from his Ritrovato notes including the constant self-justifications, the impact of their criminality on their motivation and the loneliness of the huge spaces in the film… these men are all islands with their past behaviours and future fortunes all inextricably and unavoidably linked. More than anything though, the physical escape is a reflection of their ongoing quest to be free of consequences and their inevitable demise: “escape as a way of life.”.

 

This set contains a highly informative video essay on Fregonese from the thoroughly well-researched Sheridan Hall, which explains his subject’s world-spanning career whilst putting this picture in the context of his other major works. It’s an essay that dovetails perfectly with Khoshbakht’s which is more centred on the film and you’re in safe hands with these two!

 

SPECIAL FEATURES

• Limited Edition (2000 copies) with O-Card slipcase featuring new artwork by Scott Saslow
• 1080p HD presentation on Blu-ray from a 2K scan of the 35mm fine grains
• A new audio commentary with film noir expert Sergio Angelini, host of the Tipping My Fedora podcast
• From Argentina to Hollywood a new interview with film historian Sheldon Hall on director Hugo Fregonese
• – No Escape another new video essay by Imogen Sara Smith, author of In Lonely Places: Film Noir Beyond the City
• An interview with critic and co-director of Il Cinema Ritrovato Ehsan Khoshbakht covering the career of Hugo Fregonese
• Theatrical trailer
• Collector’s booklet featuring new writing on Black Tuesday by critic Barry Forshaw and film writer Craig Ian Mann

 

You can order Black Tuesday direct from the Eureka website and do it quickly because the Limited Edition is only 2000 copies and I sense we’ll be seeing more of Hugo Fregonese’s work!

 

 

Monkey business... Kennington Bioscope Silent Laughter Weekend, Day Two

I’d missed the first day of KB’s annual Comedy Weekender having to be dragged around the South Cambridgeshire countryside by a small but determined dog who knew I’d seen Pat and Patachon as well as Syd Chaplin’s legs last year in Pordenone. But nothing was going to keep me away from today’s programme with its mix of the rare, the classic and the impossible-to-see-anywhere-else! Only at the Bioscope my friends, only at the Cinema Museum…

 

Only on 9.5mm with Colin Sell

And, indeed, only on 9.5mm… the day began with live projection as, before our very eyes, films that are listed in many places as “lost” were projected for our delectation on the Bioscope screen. Chris Bird introduced and projected these treasures most of which were on celluloid some 80 to 100 years ago, using a 1950s Spectro projector upgraded to HID lighting – it says here in the notes! The format was intended for home use and, because the sprocket hole are between individual cells, the projected area is not dissimilar from 16mm which had whole at the side. The results look fabulous especially given their rarity and… where else can we see supposedly lost Harold Lloyd, Harry Langdon and Oliver Hardy.

It's sobering as Chris noted that of the 123 American films released on 9.5mm almost half, 56 titles, only survive on 9.5… film preservation comes down to such fine margins, in this case just about 2/5ths of an inch.

 

As Chris went off to the projector, Dave Glass introduced each film starting with Our Gang – one of the most successful film series that went from 1922 well into the late 40s with an ever-changing cast of young tykes. This was the first film to be shot, the third to be released, as Fickle Flora (1922) which came with Big Business under the title Our Gang from Pathescope. Flora features a young girl torn between various suitors – the boy next door and a rich boy with long blonde curls and a bowl full of sweets.

Harold in a barrell

Harry Langdon, the fourth silent comedy giant, who changed the style of comedy by slowing down the action and whose first film doesn’t exist except it does on 9.5… made with Sol Lesser’s Principal Pictures Corporation, called The Capture of Cactus Cal (1925) on 9.5 but has now been identified as part of Horace Greely Jnr. The film was re-released by Mack Sennett in 1925 - but shot two years earlier by Alfred J Goulding for Lesser.

 

Next up an episode from the Hall Room Boys series featuring Neely Edwards and Bert Roach called High Flyers (1922). This was another series based on a comic strip which became a long running film series some 45 made which, again, has few survivors mostly on 9.5. The boys end up climbing up buildings high above San Francisco in pursuit of a baby flying high attached to balloons… and are helped by a monkey. No children were harmed in the making of this film but almost certainly Harold Lloyd was watching and planning his own high-rise act for two years later…

 

Talking of Harold Lloyd, he was next up in Rainbow Island (1917) described by Dave as “of its time” in terms of its attitudes and lo it came to pass after a message in a bottle lead Harry and his pal, Snub Pollard, to a treasure island inhabited by a tribe called the Bozos who soon capture the men and start fattening them for some comedy stewing…

 

The late David Wyatt identified a lot of the films in the 9.5 Catalogue and The Honourable Mr Buggs issued on a French 9.5mm was one of his favourites dedicated to him today by Mr Glass. It’s a Hal Roach featuring Oliver Hardy in black face as the nervy butler of Matt Moore’s Mr Buggs. This also featured Anna May Wong as lady crook, Baroness Stoloff as well as Sojin Kamiyama (recently seen as Billy the Butler in the Bioscope’s screening of The Bat!) as her criminal competitor.

 

Next was Paul (aka James) Parrott, brother of Charley Chase (born Charles Joseph Parrott), who, before he directed 22 of Laurel and Hardy’s best sound shorts, made a number of comedy shorts as the star for Mr Hal Roach. These included Winner Takes All (1923) featuring Jobyna Ralston who was to later team with Harold Lloyd to much success. Paul must compete in the multi-event Clear Valley Country Club tournament for the prize cup and the hand of the president’s daughter (Jobyna). Hilarity ensues… true love wins out!

 

Brother Charlie Chase directed the final film, which stared Snub Pollard in 365 Days (1922) which was a delightfully surreal tale of an extended family offered a large inheritance if only they can live together for a year without falling out. They build a collection of houses piled high on each other and proceed to try and control their tempers… fat chance!

 

Accompaniment was from the fluid fingers of Colin Sell and he contributed trademark good-humoured backing for this typically Kennington Sunday morning treat. Yes we had some big features to follow but this was the essence of the KB and someone needs to spend some time revising IMDB and other online sources.

 

Marion Davies and Lawrence Gray

The Patsy (1928) with Cyrus Gabrysch

 

An episode of Screen Snapshots (1924) was screened showing Marion Davies relaxing with friends including Sessue Hayakawa and his wife, Tsuru Aoki, Pauline Frederick and a number of others I was too slow to catch!

 

1928 was quite the year for King Vidor with The Crowd, generally regarded as one of the very best films of the silent era along with Show People – one of the finest comedies – proceeded by this film his first collaboration with the protean Marion Davies. Vidor had seen Davies’ comic turn at parties and noted her natural instincts as a crowd-pleasing comic, even if the laughs were at her own expense and also as a mimic. Not quite what her beau William Randolph Hearst had in mind for her at all… but The Patsy became her biggest hit to date following on from the more conventional comedy-dramatics such as When Knighthood Was in Flower, The Bride’s Play et al. Not that this was her first time in comedy-led features as Beverley of Graustark and others show, this was always her winning way and I’d be surprised if Hearst wasn’t really aware of this, especially as it was reinforced by her ability as a dramatic actor.

Here Davies is screwball and inventive, staring longingly at her sister’s boyfriend for comic effect and feigning madness in a series of unlikely hats she is funny throughout this film. She plays Pat, the youngest member of the Harrington clan, who is forever being picked on by her Ma (Marie Dressler in a career-rescuing and, as legend has it, life-saving performance) who favours her more elegant sister Grace (Jane Winton). Pa Harrington (Dell Henderson) tries to stand up for Pat but is usually slapped down…outnumbered by Ma and Grace.

Marie Dressler and Jane Winton

The family dynamics are well handled from the opening Sunday lunch in which Pat tries to work out the correct way of eating soup to her getting the scrag end of the chicken and having to fend for her own new clothes that are borrowed by big sis. Pat would like to do some borrowing of her own with Grace’s boyfriend, Tony (Orville Caldwell) who is completely oblivious only having eyes for Grace even after Pat tells him of her secret and unrequited love for a certain fellow (it’s YOU ya big dummy!).

But there’s nothing Pat won’t do for her sister even if it means sacrificing her own love. Davies shows good range with the pathos and comedy especially when attempting to win over wealthy gad-about Billy Caldwell (Lawrence Gray) – who has set his sights on Grace as well – Davies’ Pat impersonates not one but three of Hollywood’s finest. In three absorbing minutes Mae Murray, Lillian Gish and Pola Negri… all come to life in convincing fashion

Marie Dressler is absolutely fabulous; her every action pops out of the screen and she is brilliantly over-bearing. Henderson is good at hen-pecked and his revolt at the end is all the sweeter for it – real craftsmen at work here. And it was good to hear Bioscope founder Cyrus Gabrysch back on the keyboards playing for this comedic wonder with his instinctive and playful accompaniment.

 

Florence Lawrence 

Focus on Vitagraph with Glenn Mitchell and Dave Glass plus Timothy Rumsey

It was time for a live double act and, whilst Mitchell and Glass haven’t the vaudeville experience of say John Bunny and Charlie Murray they know an awful lot about them and the transition to filmic comedy via the Vitagraph company. Based in New York, Vitagraph was formed in 1897 by Albert E Smith, J Stuart Blackman and William “Pop” Rock, three Brits with backgrounds in entertainment from running billiard halls to prestidigitation. It grew into one of the leading comedy studios of the 1910s.

The two showed a bizarre trick film from 1907, The Disintegrated Convict followed by A Tintype Romance (1910) featuring Florence Turner not to mention Jean the Vitagraph Dog who is absolutely central to the plot! There were also films featuring perhaps the biggest comedy star pre-Chaplin, John Bunny, The Golf Game and the Bonnet (1913), Ralph Ince’s The Right Girl? (1915), Sidney Drew and wife in Boobley’s Baby (1915) and the great Larry Semon in Bullies and Bullets (1917).

In between the films Glenn and Dave provided the kind of witty background you’d expect at the epicentre of Silent London and we were royally entertained by the rich accompaniment from Timothy Rumsey!

  

Trade promotion for The Gorilla

The Gorilla (1927) with Costas Fotopolous and filmed introduction from Steve Massa

 

There are two ways of writing a murder mystery, speaking as the son of a crime writer (Cyril Joyce, former policeman turned novelist, who had 23 books published in hardback and paperback, many based on his experiences and forensically plotted) and this film follows what’s known as the Midsomer Murders Formula – the killer can be picked out of a hat and the rationale is invented to unravel in the final five minutes. Most murder mysteries follow this approach… motive, opportunity and means all established post facto.

The Gorilla is strong on animalistic atmosphere and comedy but it doesn’t quite match The Bat and certainly The Cat and the Canary for plotting, character and whodunnit mystery. This film has been missing for some time and was only rediscovered and restored relatively recently by the San Francisco Film Festival. It looks gorgeous, dark spooky mansion well-lit in tinted blue as the shadow of a huge primate is cast on its walls and an interior of yellowy-brown, immaculately highlighting the performers expression and their fear among the murder and mystery.

Based on the play by Ralph Spence, written in 1925, after both Cat (1922) and Bat (1920) it features our man of the day, Charlie Murray, as Garrity a comic detective who could make even Bob Hope seem calm and collected in the gloom of an old dark house. His partner in crime-stopping is Fred Kelsey, and between them, they must establish who the killer was in a house full of suspects all behaving like, well, suspects. Yes, even Alice Townsend, played by Marceline Day’s sweet-faced elder sister Alice, looks like she might have something to hide whilst her paramour Arthur Marsden (Gaston Glass) is immediately selected as the main suspect for her father Cyrus’ killer, being his secretary and all.

Charlie, Fred and friend...

As they gather in the library with their friend Stevens (and impossibly youthful Walter Pidgeon) a note from The Gorilla advises them all to leave as more will be killed if still in the house at midnight… well you know what that means. It’s a game of cat and mouse or, to be more zoologically precise, primate and primate as Garrity and his partner Mulligan (Fred Kelsey, described by Steve Massa in his filmed introduction as the perennial flat foot) stumble around for clues. Tully Marshall is superb as per usual as William Townsend the deceased slightly deranged brother and Syd Crossley adds comic value as the Butler who regardless of whether he did it or not just wants to go home.

Superb atmospherics were provided by Mr Fotopolous on piano as he illustrated the dark corners of the comedy and sprinkled light-hearted flourishes over the comic relief. These comedy horrors must be great fun to play as audience, music and sights on screen combine.

 

Mr Murray and Miss Bow

The Pill Pounder (1923), with Costas Fotopolous

Steve Massa also introduced this other recently discovered film and it is, of course, all the more precious for having a young Clara Bow in it – just 17 - as well as Mr Charlie Murray. The story of its rediscovery in an Omaha parking lot (!?!) has been all over the cineaste socials not to mention mainstream news and it is a big deal especially for Clara. It’s Murray’s film though as he plays a pharmacist/druggist aka the titular pounder of pills whose few pleasures in a stifled home life include a few hands of cards in the back of his store.

The customer is always wrong is his motto as he's cheated out of his winning hand by his pals who swap cards with every ring of the shop bell… His distraction leads to his being convinced that a bottle of “Fomo Seltzer”, labelled toxic by a pesky child, has poisoned Clara’s boyfriend (James Turfler) and the comedy goes into overdrive until the truth is revealed. Clara shows great energy and she was described in the Exhibitors Trade Review as “perhaps the most promising of the youngest actresses…” Got that right!

According to Steve, Murray appeared in over 300 films from 1912 to 1940 and was “the professional Irishman for hire…” with this one of a series he starred in for All-Star films after leaving Keystone. He went on to feature in the 1925 Wizard of Oz, as well as The Gorilla in a busy Twenties before making a series of seven films about The Cohens and the Kellys… guess which one he played?

Clara Bow and James Turfler

 

After seven hours in the dark, I had to move north just as the evening was hotting up. Here’s what I missed…

 

Charley Chase with Cyrus Gabrysch

Some very rare, and newly restored, comedies from one of the Five Greats (for me!) including Us (1927), All Wet (1924), What Women Did for Me (1927) and Derby Day (1923) Presented by author, film historian and Chase expert Richard M Roberts.

 

Then… an evening’s worth of short comedies from other masters:

Harold Lloyd’s Never Weaken (1921)

Buster Keaton’s The Paleface (1922)

Charlie Chaplin’s Behind the Screen (1916)

Charley Chase Assistant Wives (1927)

Laurel & Hardy Leave ‘Em Laughing (1928)

Piano accompaniment was from the tireless Costas Fotopolous!

 

Another silently spectacular Sunday at the Bioscope and thanks to all those who projected, preserved, presented and produced this wonderful weekend. It’s something to celebrate and the opportunities to see so much “presumed lost” is one to treasure.