In Devon everything is fine… Lorna Doone (1922), with Costas Fotopoulos, Kennington Bioscope

The new Bioscope season kicked off with a screening of Kevin Brownlow’s own 16mm print of Maurice Tourneur’s florid Lorna Doone, in which the director proves that you can indeed fit a quart into a pint pot.

Richard Doddridge Blackmore’s novel has everything the moors the merrier in fact with passions surging like waterfalls, opening the doors to death on two occasions and muscles being rendered from the flesh of evildoers. This is, indeed – perhaps – a story that “outlives modern literature… never old, never new… a literary heritage of Civilization…” but all that aside Tourneur made a fun film even if Madge Bellamy looks a little too modern with her thick eyeliner and jazz-age pout.

Before we hit those highlights though, Kevin talked us through Tourneur’s backstory with clips from his own collection illuminated by Colin Searle’s sparklingly sure-handed piano improvisations. We started with The Wishing Ring: An Idyll of Old England (1914) which as a young collector her almost left behind in Keswick Library believing it to be a British film and, therefore, of less interest! He managed to grab the copy and it’s an interesting curio, very much highlighting the step-change in technique that the French director was about to help lead.

Whereas the camera is fairly static, the close-ups are limited and the staging is formal, by the time of Alias Jimmy Valentine (1915) there’s a stunning use of angled camera, meticulous stage direction over an open plan office which forms the basis of a bank robbery. It’s far too good not to copy and low and behold, a clip from Fritz Lang’s Spiders shows an almost identical sequence.

John Bowers and Madge Bellamy

Tourneur was regarded as on the same level as DWG and DeMille by the time of Poor Little Rich Girl (1917) with Mary Pickford playing the wealthy child in a cast full of very tall people and normal sized sets on which he was rightly confident that the protean Canadian could present as a 12-year old. This film and his famous The Blue Bird (1918) demonstrated his way with fantasy with the latter being described by one projectionist as like dreaming when you’re awake.”

 

By 1922 Tourneur had shifted away from the fantastic to the historic and Lorna Doone (1922), filmed near the Thomas Ince Studios in New York and not Devon, England as the director requested, is full of fluid moments of striking storytelling whilst being as plot heavy as a month of EastEnders.

One moment has always struck me especially hard and that is when the Doone Gang attacks young Lorna and her mother’s carriage; heavily outnumbered their carriage is driven into the sea and Lorna’s mother is pushed to the ground as her daughter is taken. The gang rides off, we can almost hear the girl’s pleas, the camera shows her mother trying to raise herself from wet sand, a cut showing the sea lapping around the carriage after the tide has come in and the back to the mother, face down in inches of water…

It's a sign.

The film is far from grim but it has the occasional moment of artful violence in between a narrative that just won’t stop. Set in the late seventeenth century it tells the tale of various families in the Exmoor across the borders of Devon and Somerset. It begins in the White Horse Inn – famous among the taverns of old England - I’m sure you probably know it… where two youngsters meet, John Ridd (Charles Hatton), son of a farmer and Lorna (Mae Giraci), daughter of the Countess of Lorne… it’s love at first sight and the young lad, on hearing his new friend is to travel through the dangerous lands of the Doone bandits, gives her his pen knife. In spite of warnings from others, the Countesses troop head off and duly get ambushed by the rogues on the coast – rather brutally, as above, with the head of the clan, disgraced former nobleman (wrongly so in the book) Sir Ensor Doone (Frank Keenan) who decides to steal the child.

But John has followed and watches on helpless vowing to revenge himself on every one of the Doones!

Flip forward and we find Lorna all grown up as Madge Bellamy and living an uncertain existence amongst the Doones. She has caught the eye of Carver Doone (Donald McDonald) the most unhinged of the clan but can rely on the fatherly support of the suddenly decent Ensor: maybe she has allowed the man to remember the best of himself? It’s an uneasy existence though as Sir Ensor bats down Carver’s marriage request…pronouncing that Lorna can chose who she marries, so long as he lives.

The hunkiest man in Devon and the strongest.

Meanwhile John has grown up into John Bowers – the strongest man in Devon! He is out juggling logs in a stream when he is swept down river into the waters of the Doone Valley. He wakes to find a beautiful brunette leaning over him and they quickly realise who each other is: Lorna pulling out John’s long-cherished penknife. They have not forgotten.

But it is not safe in the valley and Lorna helps John escape back to his world: there can be no reconciliation for fear of Doone reprisals apparently… John returns to his farm, his heart a perfect L, for Lorna, for love… His cousin Ruth (Norris Johnson) looks on, lost in her own longing… an incomplete triangle that will break before the film is done. Lost more besides.

The plot is of its age and genre but Tourneur makes sure that Lorna Doone flies by at an irresistibly entertaining pace. The cinematography from Henry Sharp is also superbly advanced and delivers the richness and range you’d expect for his director.

Madge miscast?

Costas Fotopoulos came with his Old Romantics Toolbox brim-full of longing poignancy, laced with dramatic dynamics and horse-chasing rhythms… he added the classic to the classic and ensured that we arrived breathless at stories end.

Lorna Doone isn’t the best of Tourneur but tonight, with Mr Brownlow’s film, his introduction and the playing of Colin and Costas, we wouldn’t have been anywhere else.

Devon can wait… Lorna Doone (1922)

Richard Doddridge Blackmore’s novel Lorna Doone has fascinated me since I saw a lurid hardback cover for it in our local library as a child - something about the moors, surging waterfalls and high passion.  Yet, I never got round to reading it – too many dinosaur and sci-fi books to get through first - but I’m told it’s a hearty romance among the best of mid-Victorian romantic “historical” fiction.

Director Maurice Tourneur’s 1922 film version is reputed by those who may know to be perhaps the best of the many film adaptations of the book and I can see why. You not only get the usual Tourneur visual flair, soft-edged pastoral accompanied by his totally-controlled sets – and he even appears to craft the land itself at times – but also quick-moving narrative and action which covers a lot of ground with economy and energy.

Action and scale

Adapting Blackmore’s sprawl into a tight 87 minutes was no easy task but the stripped down story  in the film still has balance… although the florid opening titles are not encouraging, raving about a story that “outlives modern literature… never old, never new… a literary heritage of Civilization.”

Set in the late seventeenth century it tells the tale of various families in the Exmoor across the borders of Devon and Somerset and Tourneur sets his locations better than most in Hollywood at this time although we do have the odd incongruous mountain. It begins in the White Horse Inn – famous among the taverns of old England - I’m sure you probably know it.

John meets Lorna

Two youngsters meet, John Ridd (Charles Hatton), son of a farmer and Lorna (Mae Giraci), daughter of the Countess of Lorne… it’s love at first sight and the young lad, on hearing his new friend is to travel through the dangerous lands of the Doone bandits, gives her his pen knife. In spite of warnings from others, the Countesses troop head off and duly get ambushed by the rogues on the coast – rather brutally, the head of the clan, disgraced former nobleman (wrongly so in the book) Sir Ensor Doone (Frank Keenan) decides to steal the child and – seemingly – kill her mother.

Death on the beach

This scene is very atmospheric and the camera pulls away showing the travelers wrecked coach half submerged in the surf – almost surreal and reminiscent of gothic postcards of the period.

John has followed and watches on helpless vowing to revenge himself on every one of the Doones.

Madge Bellamy and Frank Keenan

Flip forward and we find Lorna all grown up as Madge Bellamy and living an uncertain existence amongst the Doones. She has caught the eye of Carver Doone (Donald McDonald) the most unhinged of the clan but can rely on the fatherly support of the suddenly decent Ensor: maybe she has allowed the man to remember the best of himself? It’s an uneasy existence though as Sir Ensor bats down Carver’s marriage request…pronouncing that Lorna can chose who she marries, so long as he lives.

Meanwhile John has grown up into John Bowers – the strongest man in Devon! He is out juggling logs in a stream when he is swept down river into the waters of the Doone Valley. He wakes to find a beautiful brunette leaning over him and they quickly realise who each other is: Lorna pulling out John’s long-cherished penknife. They have not forgotten.

Lorna and John get re-acquainted

But, it is not safe in the valley and Lorna helps John escape back to his world: there can be no reconciliation for fear of Doone reprisals apparently.

John returns to his farm, his heart a perfect L, for Lorna, for love… His cousin Ruth (Norris Johnson) looks on, lost in her own longing… an incomplete triangle that will break before the film is done.

Carver is inappropriate

Sir Ensor lives longer and weaker and soon crackpot Carver is counting down the days to when he can take charge of both the clan and Lorna. He seizes his moment when the old man looks to have expired and, as he hastily gathers a priest for a wedding, Lorna’s maid summons John.

John rips his way through the roof and scatters the wedding party against impossible odds and then all is saved by the resuscitated Ensor appears at the door buying the lovers enough time to escape before he falls dead at the feat of his unhinged successor.

John and Lorna are in pink-tinted idyll back at the farm and all might end there were it not for the appearance of the Countess of Brandir (one Gertrude Astor) who, summoned by a letter from Ensor revealing Lorna’s true past and inheritance, arrives just in time to put off Carver’s crew from a revenge attack.

Lorna and John agree that it’s important she goes off to London to resume being posh and it seems our lovers are to be split for the noblest of reasons… But don’t right off John who journeys to the capital in time to prevent the assassination of the King’s baby. But even in the euphoria of his deed he shows himself out of step with the sophisticates of court: the couple are stuck between their worlds and someone has to step over the line of demarcation.

Fortune favours at the Abbey

Even if that line is crossed, there are plenty of inconveniences back in Devon; remember Ruth, her steadfast heart now twisted by jealousy and then there’s the mad dog Carver, he’s never going to lie down until he’s put down…

OK, the plot’s of its age and genre but it is so well handled by Tourneur and Lorna Doone flies by at an irresistibly-entertaining pace. The cinematography from Henry Sharp is also superbly advanced and delivers the richness and range you’d expect from his director.

Some may knock Madge B’s acting but I think she does very well and even verges on the understated when compared to Frank Keenan’s Ensor and Donald McDonald’s Dangerous Carver Doone! John Bowers may well be the strongest man in Devon but he still looks like David Walliams.

I watched the Kino DVD which is the 2001 restoration complete with a score from Mari Iijima that under-pins the action with several emphatically-catchy themes. It occasionally threatens to over—power the film but mostly serves it very well – light-hearted, adventurous and lovely (beach slaughter apart).

John battles the mad dog

The DVD is available direct from Kino Lorber or from the long and tax-avoiding river people. The book is still someway down my list as but daughter says I’ve got to read Bronte's Charlotte and Anne first along with a shelf or two of more worthy literature... bet they won't all be as much fun though. 

The league of extraordinary gentlefolk… The Ace of Hearts (1921)

Chaney in torment

After only a few weeks I’m playing off the Queen of Spades with The Ace of Hearts, although, with Hearts being trumps, the former wins this round. The Ace of Hearts is close though and is the kind of dark mystery melodrama you’d expect more from Europe than Hollywood.

Secret societies, death pacts, hidden agendas… all undermined by love – human weakness defining human strength in the face of ruthless and cold-hearted, organised killing in the name of progress… the more things change…

The Brotherhood of the greater good...

The film is a compelling pulp fiction in ten chapters that are economically-focused by director Wallace Worsley, he of The Penalty and The Hunchback… (both with this film’s star, Lon Chaney), who here brings Gouverneur Morris’ adventure novel to life on screen.

Farallone (Lon Chaney) belongs to a secret society along with several well-dressed middle-aged men, Forrest (John Bowers) and a lone lady, Lilith (Leatrice Joy). We’re never given much background on the group’s reason for being but we do know that the members are devoted to the cause – a dig at contemporary extremism perhaps in the wake of the Great War?

The Group monitor and then dispose, as required, of degenerates who are in breach of their moral code a modus operandi expressed by vague references to their targets’ short-comings. For their latest mark Forrest has been working as a waiter in the restaurant frequented by the “person who has lived to long” whilst friend Farallone has been painting his painting for three months.

The ”Brotherhood” use non-specific phrases: we don’t know who they are fighting against and what their “enemies” have done but, we give them the benefit of the doubt as they seem to be the good guys… Which reminds me of a Mitchell and Webb sketch in which they play SS soldiers with one turning to the other and, pointing to the death’s head on their caps, asking whether they might be, you know, the “bad guys”?

John Bowers, Leatrice Joy and Lon Chaney stride into the wind and rain

The Brotherhood’s target has had the power and opportunities to make the world better… but he has “made it worse”. It is not explained how and why but the Brothers and Sister are convinced they have this right and that the man has “lived too long”.

Grimly they pass round the cards and the one who gets the – you guessed it – Ace of Hearts – will have the duty of committing the act and terminating the life of this individual and making the World in general better for his exclusion.

At a time when individuals – tsars, kings, kaisers, generals, priests and revolutionaries – counted arguably more than they do now, you can sense the root appeal of this logic especially form a country in which assassination has been attempted so often on their president.

Here it acts as a curious means of forcing the hands of the three central characters who had previously been locked in an unresolved triangle of affection. Forrest gets the Ace and Lilith offers him her hand in eth hope that love will make him lucky; not just love of “The Cause” but for each other! Now, this would exclude all third parties and Farallone is especially concerned about that…

He is heartbroken and in a moving sequence watches the newly-married couple’s new home all night, standing looking up in the forlorn hope that something will change in his favour. No one stands in sorrow quite as well as Lon Chaney and here he is drenched through for good measure: there’s no singing but it is raining.

It should have been him…

Game's up mate...

Preparations are made and Forrest just has to bide his time until the appointed time to place the bomb that will kill the target and possibly him as well. But the couple’s union has brought a change of perspective and Lilith says: “Hatred seems so wrong - now that we have love.”…

But Forrest’s resolve seems strong and as he encounters an exhausted Farallone on their steps he reiterates his conviction and asks the other man to look after Lillian if he doesn’t survive.

The tension mounts as Forrest sets about his preparation in the café and Lilith goes to Farallone for help, Worsley cuts between the two scenes as Farallone realises his love for Lilith could never really be reciprocated whilst Forrest witnesses two young lovers sat right next to where his target will sit… In the face of such romantic innocence can he complete his task to kill he who must be killed at the cost of their lives…

Finally The Menace (Raymond Hatton) arrives and takes his regular seat. Forrest stands over him his mind in turmoil. If he doesn’t kill the man he knows his own life will be forfeit, the Brotherhood have strict rules so, who does he kill, the Menace and Young Love or his own chance for happiness?

No spoilers… The Ace of Hearts follows its own romantic arc as love for The Cause is challenged by love for each other with passion, compassion and loyalty all rising up in the face of the cold-blooded accountancy of the Brotherhood who are every bit as bad as the men they judge. In the end the Ace of Hearts trumps all else and that’s as it should be.

You may think that’s a bit soppy but I don’t think the position has changed much between the post-war years and modern conflicts in which automatons play an increasing role in despatching “high priority” targets.

The central cast all perform well In spite of John Bowers occasionally reminding me of David Walliams. Leatrice Joy (the future Mrs J Gilbert) shows a good range as the woman who finds love runs far deeper than any mere “cause” whilst Lon Chaney is as extraordinarily expressive as ever in showing that true love involves sacrifice as well as conviction.

Whaddaya mean Davd Walliams?!

I watched the DVD from the TCM Lon Chaney set which is enlivened by a stirring original score from Vivek Maddala. It’s available direct or from Amazon.

Moore and Vidor… The Sky Pilot (1921)

Now there was me thinking this was going to involve some bi-planes… My hopes weren’t high and the lower quality of the version I watched (the Alpha DVD) lowered them still further but even the inappropriate cadences of some-other film’s soundtrack didn’t spoil my interest: this was Colleen Moore and King Vidor after all.

Even in fuzzy monotone Colleen’s energy shines through and the grand sweep of Vidor’s vision too: cattle rustling on a grand scale, an authentic bar-room brawl filmed from close quarters and more scenery than you could shake two cameras at. How would this play with a decent 35mm print and a proper accompaniment?

Vidor's symbolism: The Sky Pilot arrives on donkey-back

It feels influenced by Hell’s Hinges and whilst being nowhere near as good as that film, still takes an interesting if largely un-surprising path to modern eyes at least.

Based on Ralph Connor’s novel of the same name The Sky Pilot tells the tale of Arthur Wellington Moore (John Bowers) a preacher who, appropriately enough arrives on a donkey to bring the good word to the town of Swan Creek.

He strides from his unwieldy steed straight into The Stopping Place, where gather “those who rode the wild trail to the cut-bank of destruction”. He is greeted by the seemingly-friendly locals led by ranch hand, Bill Hendricks (David Butler) who is aghast when he realises that the new arrival is a “Sky Pilot” (sailor's slang common in the West) a preacher sent to elevate the townsfolk to a higher plane.

The Pilot fights his corner

Bill and his boys have no time for such condescension and he sets about trying to belittle Arthur’s impromptu sermon in the bar. He pushes the preacher to the floor but Arthur gets up and knocks Bill down as the two begin a lengthy fight. Arthur is too skilled for Bill and after sending him down for the final time the cowboy draws a gun on him and his men run him out of town. But Bill’s not a man without honour and he pursues Arthur to pay his respect for a fight well won and to apologise… “Say Parson, I’d be mighty proud if you’d just forget about that foolishness of mine an’ just shake hands.”

David Butler and John Bowers

Bill figures out a way to help Arthur get his message across: he needs to prove himself as much of a man as the toughs around him. He gets the preacher a job as a ranch hand with his boss, Colonel Ashley (James Corrigan) and his wife Lady Charlotte (Kathleen Kirkham) who look on with glee as Arthur manages to hang onto one of their wildest horses.

The scene shifts as we meet Old Timer (Harry Todd) a man who is still cursing God for the death of his wife and his young daughter Gwen (Colleen Moore) who looks to have been raised in the saddle. Miss Moore had already been in westerns with Tom Mix and there are some impressive scenes of what looks like her riding a horse and trap at speed. This unexpected physicality aside, one is also reminded of the vitality of a Mary Pickford character.

Is that Colleen on the horse too?

Meanwhile, there’s a man in a black suit, Duke (Donald MacDonald) planning to steal the Colonel’s cattle and with the Old Timer’s help!

Duke’s men scope out the terrain and feeling that Arthur is getting too close, shoot and cause his horse to buck, throwing him into a deep ravine. As he is swept along by the white water, Gwen comes to the rescue and pulls him out using a rope and her horse: a handy gal!

Gwen to the rescue!

She takes Arthur home and soon Bill arrives – turns out he’s her beau kind of… and then he God-hating father arrives and discovering Arthur’s calling, boots him out and with Gwen’s blessing: clearly there are some issues to clear up before a happy ending can be arranged.

Gwen overhears the plot...

 But now events step up as Gwen hears of her Father’s plan to work with the Duke. The Old Timer ignores her pleas and goes ahead with the rustle only for Bill, Arthur and the boys to intervene. Gwen is on hand to help drive the cattle back but she is knocked form her horse and in an impressive scene, Arthur stands over her and in front of the stampeding cattle that look real enough: some brave stunt work here: initially the scene was filmed with a dummy until Bowers volunteered to face the cattle himself.

No humans were harmed in the making of this film...just!

Arthur carries Gwen back to her father’s and the doctor declares that she may never walk again. Having pulled his bible from the fire to pray for her to live, the Old Timer curses the invisible deity for leaving her broken-bodied.

But Arthur cares for Gwen and manages to lift her spirits to face her new situation and the two grow closer just as the Pilot’s best buddy is secretly building him a proper church in town. All will be revealed on Christmas Day in a series of exciting events that will change the course of all their lives…

OK… there’s not much here that wasn’t covered better in Hell’s Hinges but this is still an entertaining film with heart. Colleen Moore – here 22 years old – already has the uninhibited energy of her more famous roles and she steals all of her scenes as the believable girl-woman. In their book,King Vidor, American, Raymond Durgant and Scott Simmon describe how Vidor used her with a "knowing sophistication" with an "intermittent sexuality" unusual for the time and the genre's typical heroines.

Those Irish eyes are smilin'

John Bowers also has presence and excels in his bromance with David Butler’s Bill - such a shame we can’t see their acting in clearer detail! As with Moore,Vidor cast the smooth-featured Bowers against type - he's niether the rugged bible-puncher or City-soft milk-sop you could expect and has an inner strength that only becomes apparent in stages.

John Bowers

This was Vidor’s second production from his own company and it was filmed in the snow of Truckee in the Californian mountains – now the Tahoe National Park - near Carson City and Reno - and the sunnier flat lands of Fresno  – a large-scale undertaking that gives the film a visual depth coutesy of the cinematography of L. William O'Connell and Gus Peterson

The Sky Pilot is available on the aforementioned Alpha DVD either from Oldies.com or through Amazon: it is an un-restored bootleg of a film in the public domain and one I’d like to see in better circumstances!

King Vidor, American is still available through Amazon - a good read about an iconic director.

A river runs through Truckee