Showing posts with label Julia Crawford Ivers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Julia Crawford Ivers. Show all posts

Monday, 21 December 2020

So here it is (against all odds)… 2020's Silent Highlights


“A journey in one’s armchair – a journey of the mind – is the nicest kind of journey, because it’s what we want it to be, because there are no obstacles, and all our dreams are granted.”


In such a year as this with no accompanied silent film screenings since the middle of March… how can Arthur find very much to thank? Well, let me tell you there is more to be thankful of in 2020 than in any normal year because, despite it all, people did carry on and they did put the show on Right Here! So here they are - in no particular order - my top twelve silent delights from a year spent mostly at home...


Buster and Natalie Talmadge 

1. Slapstick Festival – Our Hospitality (1923) with The European Silent Screen Virtuosi


If it was January it must have been Bristol and the reliably sensational Slapstick Festival which was again packed with rare and beautiful shorts as well as features I’d previously missed such as Lubitsch’s So This is Paris (1926) and James Cruze’s On to Reno (1928) starring Marie Prevost. The highlight was Buster’s Our Hospitality screened in the cathedral with an informed, passionate introduction from actor Paul McGann who this year joined with me in celebrating victory for Liverpool Football Club in the Premier League as well the World Club Championship… 2020 eh!?


Our Hospitality was the first of Buster’s features and a huge leap for comedy kind with a substantial budget enabling him to shift the legendary Canfield and McKay feud back to the 1830s resulting in a very funny and genuinely thrilling film with real drama added to the gags by one of the greatest of comedy innovators.


The European Silent Screen Virtuosi joyfully accompanied with Günter A. Buchwald, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius filling the cavernous spaces with perfectly judged collaborative improvisation.


Pierre Magnier gets a hat, gets ahead.


2.       Cyrano de Bergerac (1925), with John Sweeney, Phoenix Cinema


Pure joy in February Finchley with a Cyrano that is one of the few surviving colourised silent features; a sumptuous classic that revels in its own excesses in full expectation that the audience know exactly what’s coming from this classic tale of secret love. It is a film that demands to be watched in a beautiful 108-year-old cinema and with accompaniment from someone as skilled as John Sweeney who provided so many stirring motifs that you could almost see a feathered hat bobbing over the keyboard.


I remarked at the time that it was “…well worth braving Storm Ciara for on a day National Rail told us not to travel! Faint hearts and all that…” Go on, tempt fate, why don’t you?



3.       Tatjana (1923), with John Sweeney, Kennington Bioscope


I don’t think anyone took the Cinema Museum for granted, even before all of this… but I wouldn’t have ever thought that this would be my last trip there for nine months and counting. This show was a very rare screening of a skilfully made tale of love and obsession during the turbulence of the Russian Revolution. Made in Germany with direction from the Danish Robert Dinesen, it does at least feature a Russian lead, Olga Tschechowa, as the woman distracting several comrades from purposeful politics.


John Sweeney is, of course, very much your man for the Russians and wove splendid dramatic and romantic lines through the web of revolutionary intrigue. He hadn’t seen the film – who had? – but he was, of course, spot on.


Jenny Hasselqvist y'all!


4.      Ingmar's Inheritance (1925), Selma Lagerlöf’s Jerusalem


Everything closed in the first Lockdown, those of us who could worked from home and, in my case, programmed an in-house season of Swedish films based on my reading of Selma Lagerlöf’s epic Jerusalem as translated by the well-intentioned but over fussy, Velma Swanston Howard. Four films were made of the two books of Victor Sjöström made the first two, The Sons of Ingmar (Ingmarssönerna) (1919) and then Karin Daughter of Ingmar (Karin Ingmarsdotter) (1920) which failed to repeat the success of the first film leaving the director to turn his attention elsewhere.


Gustaf Molander picked up the project and completed the story with his brace, Ingmar's Inheritance (Ingmarsarvet) (1925) and Till österland (1926). The two directors had many differences in approach with Sjöström’s narrative much closer to Lagerlöf’s text and more focused on the interior life of her conflicted characters whilst Molander broadened the palate, taking more liberties and setting up more action.


I especially enjoyed Ingmar's Inheritance which has a stellar cast including Lars Hanson, Mona Mårtenson, Conrad Veidt and Sweden’s actor/prima ballerina superstar Jenny Hasselqvist!


Indoor adventure with Raymond McKee


5.       KBTV – Kennington Bioscope Online, Kidnapped (1917) with John Sweeney (ITMA!)


When the going got tough, the tough went online… It was Dame Pamela of Walthamstow who once described the Kennington Bioscope as London’s Silent Speakeasy, an exclusive yet inclusive, almost mythical club of the committed and persistently passionate silent cinephiles who gather under shadowy circumstances once every three weeks or so… When the door of the Museum had to shut, these movie mobsters just stayed calm and carried on, shifting to digital and, with casual ease, bloomin’ well going global!


Hosted by Michelle Facey – literally the face of KBTV – throughout lockdown the Kennington Bioscope have been broadcasting shorter films on their YouTube channel but this episode was something else as there was a full feature film with live accompaniment from John Sweeney and an introduction from Fritzi Kramer, America’s premier silent blogger with Movies Silently and the woman who crowdfunded the restoration and DVD release of Alan Crosland’s adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped. It’s a film for all the family and one which retains its sense of adventure and charm a century on.


Nita Naldi and John Barrymore: two great profiles...


6.       Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920), HippFest at Home with Neil Brand


One of the first and biggest disappointments of the year was the cancellation of Hippfest – ock, we were just a week away…  The Hipponauts stayed connected via social media though and after an earlier shared watch-along of Clara Bow’s It, this was the full Monty: a learned introduction from Pamela Hutchinson and the wonderful – properly diegetic – scoring of Neil Brand for one of the classics of the silent era, courtesy of Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray of the 2011 restoration.


This was also another of those “appointments to view” with so many of the silent film community watching and commenting as the film played; from London, Bristol, Scotland, Europe and the USA… we were all in the room sharing the film just as we do in festival. Sure, we had to bring our own drinks and nibbles, but this was a night when social distancing became merely a physical construct.


Valéry Inkijinoff acting up a storm


7.       Storm Over Asia (1928), Silent Film Days Bonn, Elizabeth-Jane Baldry and Stephen Horne


Some countries did better than others post lockdowns and in August the 36th Silent Film Days in Bonn was one of the first to run in Europe. The organisers also decided to stream some of the films along with the live accompaniment so that those of us who couldn’t make it, could experience something of the immediacy and ambience of the festival.

 

So, huddled over my laptop, in my Berlinale t-shirt and with my Louise Brooks Pordenone Silent Film Festival mug topped up, I watched this crystal-clear restoration of Vsevolod Pudovkin’s Storm Over Asia (1928) and listened to the visceral interplay between accompanists Elizabeth-Jane Baldry and Stephen Horne on headphones… and it was almost like being there; certainly one of the most visceral streams of the year.


Ruan Lingyu


8.      
Guofeng (National Customs) (1935) with Gabriel Thibaudeau, 39th Pordenone Silent Festival


Talking of Le Giornate del cinema muto… this year’s edition moved spectacularly online with an afternoon and evening’s worth of musician masterclasses, main feature and post screening discussion that gave us something of the festival’s immediacy and intensity. Every day for a week festival director Jay Weissberg bounded out from our screens drawing us into the programme of restored gems and quoting the above lines from Michel Robida about our shared armchair journeys.


The films were a treat from the restored Weimar sophistication of Abwege (sex and drugs and Brigitte Helm…) to the small-town, mid-west, juvenile Americana of Penrod and Sam (1923) via a rare trip to Greece for The Apaches of Athens (1930). It’s a close-run thing but my favourite was probably Guofeng (1935), accompanied by Gabriel Thibaudeau. Made during a fighting pause in the China’s lengthy civil wars the film promoted Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang (KMT or Nationalist Party) call for a return to core values with its New Life Movement. The movement, sharing values with the opposing Communist Party, was reaction against Western imperialist influence and urged the people to observe social and political responsibilities, practice frugality and to know one’s sense of shame.


Now, if that sounds too functional a brief the resulting drama is nonetheless well made and acted especially by a radiant Ruan Lingyu, the star of Goddess (1934) among many other Chinese silents, before she committed suicide aged just 25 in early March 1935, some two months before the film’s release. She is extraordinary here as every time I’ve seen her, gently emoting and disarmingly direct, sometimes straight to camera if not to the audience, she never leaves her character.


The Masterclasses were also uniformly fascinating and provided extra dimensions to the screenings along with Jay’s masterfully chaired discussions. Sorry Jay, but next year’s festival is just going to have to be that much longer to allow for this all!! Immacolato!!


BFI's Bryony and KB's Michelle introduce

9.       The Cheaters (1929) with Cyrus Gabrysch, London Film Festival 2020


After Pordenone it was straight on to London for the next streaming festival and one that brought a collaboration from the Kennington Bioscope and the BFI. KBTV MC Michelle Facey introduced along with the BFI’s Bryony Dixon who filled us in on the remarkable McDonagh Sisters, Paulette who directed this and seven other features, Isabel, the star, acting under the name Marie Lorraine and Phyllis who worked as art director. They even had their own set, using their splendid family home Drummoyne House as well as some stunning locations around Sydney.


The Cheaters was the third of the McDonagh sister’s films and shows a remarkable consistency of tone and aesthetic. It’s a very proficient melodrama with Hollywood-level performances allied to a crispness of direction and that visual cohesion described by the National Film and Sound Archive as evidence of the McDonagh sisters' “understanding of mood and atmosphere.”


Cyrus Gabrysch’s accompaniment was a gorgeous gamelan, matching the drama but also the thread of family and love. Occasionally I glanced down at his work on the now famous Bioscope “Piano Cam” but mostly, as John and Neil had said in Pordenone’s masterclasses, the music was at the heart of the film and it felt exactly as if it was coming out of the screen!



10.   The House of Shadows (1924), Stephen Horne & Elizabeth-Jane Baldry, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto Silent Stream


There is much discussion about the “new normal” and whether cinema viewing will return in the same ways after the pandemic is ended but some things can stay, especially archive streaming. The Danish Film Institute has – literally – hundreds of silent films available to view on its site (of which more anon) whilst the San Francisco Silent Film Festival also provides highlights from previous screenings. Le Giornate has The Silent Stream which in addition to the masterclasses, features films from earlier editions including this gem from 2017, my first year in Pordenone.


The House of Shadows is an intense melodrama set in northern Norway and Anders Wilhelm Sandberg’s film is an intense, mystical family drama that is as disturbing as it is haunting with some outstanding locations matched by some exceptional performances.


Elizabeth-Jane and Stephen make for an intuitive paring and they fill the characters with so much musical warmth as well as dread, lifting their lines above the swooping panoramas and pacing the viewing narrative with a measured precision that confounds the occasional reminder that this is all played live. There’s a rapture of applause at the end and I think you can hear me whooping as well!



11.   Digital release of the year? The Intrigue (1916)/A Son of Erin (1916), Kino Lorber Blu-ray


Like many compulsive obsessives I have a stack of unwatched Blu-rays and DVDs, in order of release date or sub-sectioned by Director… and whilst this has been the year to eat into that reserve there’s also been good reason to add to the challenge by bringing in more! One I bought and watched was this great set from Kino Lorber featuring forgotten films from Julia Crawford Ivers.


Included are four films either written by or written and directed by Ivers all of which compliment her film, The Call of the Cumberlands (1916) included on the company’s boxset of Women Film Pioneers which, a six discs and 25 hours long, is the perfect lockdown companion.


This set majors on The Intrigue, a science fiction spy adventure from 1916, and whilst it’s very interesting, it was A Son of Erin (1916) written and directed by Ivers that drew my eye the most as it had a number of thematic parallels with Cumberlands; humble men making good, steadfast romance in a changing world and corruption in public office. Ivers sense of morality is consistent across these films and that draws you in further to the history of the films and the time.


Ben Model


12.   Streaming King: The Silent Comedy Watch Party, Ben Model and Steve Massa


Incredibly Ben Model hosted his thirty eighth silent comedy streaming on Sunday 20th December making him one of the most relentless bringers of digital joy for the year. The redoubtable Steve Massa provides deeply informed introductions and Ben live-accompanies shorts comedies starring every silent comedian you have and haven’t heard of. It’s an education and an inspiration. Also *funny*!


This week’s episode featured champion Charley Chase in There Ain’t No Santa Claus (1925) which proved that, actually Chaz, there is one, as this was the perfect comedy gift on a day, we desperately needed it! We also had Martha Sleeper – who I’ve previously descried as the silent era Parker Posey (OK, just me then…) and who is literally slapstick on skates in Sure-Mike (1925) - effortless amongst the mayhem in a two-reeler which also features some youngster name of Fay Wray. There was also lovely Lillian Peacock in A Shadowed Shadow (1916) which is not as dark as it seems… no shades of grey just grade “A” comedy.


Martha Sleeper


Steve and Ben take the digital biscuit and epitomise the resilience and invention of our silent cineaste subculture and its positive refusal to stand by in disconnected silence. As Ben says, people are contacting them and letting them know how the show is heloing them cope with social restrictions and much more beside; laughter maybe the best medicine but so is routine and dedication. 


Thank you boys and thank you everyone above for continuing to shine your light in 2020. We go again in 2021 and I look forward to seeing you online and in theatres as soon as possible.


Sunday, 21 June 2020

The films of Julia Crawford Ivers… The Intrigue (1916)/A Son of Erin (1916), Kino Lorber Blu-ray


History is addictive and that’s not something my tutor would have expected me to say when I under-delivered on my essay tackling Stalin and the Nationalities… but one thing, literally, leads you to another and to make sense of things, to get the bigger picture, you always have to keep on digging. In the case of Julia Crawford Ivers, a woman who I knew nothing about pre-lockdown, I am now starting to understand just a little of her motivation as both a writer and director.

This handsome Blu-ray set from Kino Lorber, includes four films either written by or written and directed by Ivers and compliments her film, The Call of the Cumberlands (1916) included on the company’s exhaustive but not exhausted boxset of Women Film Pioneers. If she has been known at all, it has mainly been as the principal screenwriter for William Desmond Taylor – with whom she made some twenty films – and, naturally, as one of the suspects in his murder (for which my sources tell me, the main suspect is MMM, but keep that under your hats…).


This set majors on The Intrigue, a science fiction spy adventure from 1916, and whilst it’s very interesting it was A Son of Erin (November 1916) written and directed by Ivers that drew my eye the most as it had a number of thematic parallels with Cumberlands (January 1916); humble men making good, steadfast romance in a changing world and corruption in public office.

Where an honest man is needed most… in politics!

Both films star Dustin Farnum as likeable men from traditional backgrounds – the mid-west in Cumberlands and ol’ Ireland in Erin (aka Éire in old English money) – who are drawn away from their trueloves, Sally and Katie, both played by Londoner Winifred Kingston who later became Mrs Farnum (remaining so until his death in 1929). More connections and they’re also both in The Intrigue in un-credited roles. In both roles the women sacrifice a lot in order to support their man’s ambition and whilst they trust that this will be rewarded, there is no guarantee. Any echoes in Ivers’ support of Taylor are purely speculative but she was an all-rounder, who had fulfilled so many roles in cinema and who produced as well as directed and certainly let the likes of Taylor and Frank Lloyd take the full credit for some collaborations.

Winifred Kingston and Dustin Farnum
Farnum is a happy go lucky fella Dennis O'Hara, a “simple soul” who dreams of being a New York Cop, so many of whom were indeed Irish. Katie sells her best pig to the local landlord to fund his trip out to America leaving herself vulnerable to the Englishman’s unprincipled advances as well as the chance her man just will not make it. Dennis duly arrives in the city and fails to secure anything other than work as a navvy; another famously Irish occupation.

The City is corrupt though and we see the unofficial alliance between the councillor O'Keefe (Wallace Pyke) and city contractor, Hardy (Lee Willard), both of whom are paying of a police force that also collects protection money from local retailers, including one who appears to be a madam. Against all this is a civic reformer, John D. Haynes (Hugo B. Koch), a man clearly in need of allies.

Selling her best pig
Dennis’ popularity earns him the chance to join the force – they need the “dago vote” in the next election - and he progresses to sergeant – “the Big Brother of the tenement block”, a few decades before that phrase would change in meaning. Ivers spends good time on establishing her characters and there’s a nice scene with Sgt O’Hara sharing an apple with a street seller. Trusted by all sides, his crooked Captain finally tests him, by asking him to collect the protection money. He refuses and ends up in court as part of a newspaper investigation into corruption. Here he shows his honesty and loyalty and gets a job as a building inspector where he helps uncover a corrupt concrete racket. Finally, he is enlisted by Haynes to help in his campaigning and helps to persuade the East Side to vote for reform.

The honest man enters politics
Back in Ireland, the evil landlord tries to hide Dennis’ letter inviting Kitty to finally join him and assaults her instead only to be rebuffed by her greater intensity. This is exactly what happens to Kingston’s character in the Cumberlands, both physically best male aggressors; so much for damsels in distress, Ivers’ women are forces to be reckoned with! Having given everything she had to help Dennis succeed, Kitty heads off in the sure and certain knowledge that their partnership will be stronger than ever.

OK, it’s not a great film and Ivers’ is not a great director but she is a very competent film maker and creates entertaining stories with characters that ae recognisable and rewarding to watch; inspiring cinematic ideals for the largely working class, “simple souls” who watched in their millions.

As in Cumberlands, Ivers' uses natural light to create sentimental shots
The Intrigue has more dash and daring do yet is also interesting from a political perspective. The story concerns and American inventor Guy Longstreet (Cecil Van Auker), who comes up with a deadly X-Ray gun that could win either side the Great War currently being fought across the Atlantic. The US was not involved at this point and the film reflects this both in the American military’s lack of interest in the weapon and in the ultimate fate of the deadly ray-gun.

In the middle of all this is a competent caper directed by Scotland’s Frank Lloyd described in Anthony Slide's engrossing commentary as perhaps the consummate Hollywood director with over 125 feature films across a forty year career that included the singular feet of three Oscar nominations in one year (1929). Here he is certainly still learning his craft but there are some good cross-cuts linking characters and their thoughts, repeated use of “iris outs” when changing scene and some in-camera trickery enabling one character to consider his options in close up whilst his friend and collaborators appear in long shot/as small versions below, in his mind’s eye.

The weapon maker weighs up his options...
The cinematographer having to perform these feats was none other than Ivers’ son, James van Trees who enjoyed a long career himself, there on merit and not just family connections, not eventually anyway! Interesting how “small” a place Hollywood is at this stage and how interconnected so many are.

Having been rejected by his own war pigs, Longstreet takes his device to Europe and looks to sell to one side – un-named but in Germanic uniform – whilst the other sends it’s best spy to follow progress as the American returns home to finish construction of the mass destruction elements of his weapon. Rather than send A Man, who would be obvious, they decide to send Countess Sonia Varnli as played by stage star Lenore Ulrich who we have already seen working as a nurse in a field hospital. The Countess decides to send her assistant as played by Florence Vidor, as herself and to smuggle herself on board as a peasant girl. Florence’s husband was of course King, and he has an uncredited appearance as a chauffeur. I hadn’t realised that after divorcing King Vidor in 1924, Florence would go onto marry famed violinist Jascha Heifetz, one of the greats and a huge influence on my violinist Uncle.

Florence Vidor and Lenore Ulrich
But I digress, Anthony Slide is slightly disappointed in Lenore’s performance and I have to confess I’d hoped Florence would have been given more to do as her "understudy", but the latter is mostly impressive if patchy. A discovery of David Balasco – along with so many from Mary Pickford to Barbara Stanwyck – Ulrich had been in films sporadically since 1911 but seems a little ill at ease here, over emoting initially and, as Slide observes, seemingly happier to play the role of peasant girl than sophisticated Mata Hari. She does OK but there is the occasional hand to forehead moment and her huge expressive eyes are quite distracting in close up!

Lenore Ulrich's big eyes, spy...
The big baddy in all this is the Baron Rogniat as played by Liverpool’s own Howard Davies (by the way, coming in 2023, Silent Scousers: a study of the La’s who starred and the Maggie’s who made it (Faber)) who knows exactly how to wield and evil moustache. He aims to steal the weapon’s secrets and kill off the inventor… only the Countess/cleaning woman can save the situation! Yes, again we have yet another woman of agency from Ivers and one who will indeed dictate the outcome she thinks best.

On the right, Howard Davies from Liverpool
That I won’t spoil as these are all films that should be seen by anyone who wants to see that bigger picture of early Hollywood; the three dimensional jigsaw puzzle that has a smaller and smaller section devoted to DWG the further we move into the second century of cinema.

The Intrigue also comes with the surviving fourth reel of The Majesty of the Law (1915), written and directed by Ivers’ along with all of Ben Blair (1916) directed by William Desmond Taylor from Ivers’ script. There’s also an essay in the booklet from Ivers’ expert, film historian April Miller. It’s available direct from Kino Lorber in the US but you will need to order from Amazon.com to get delivery to Europe.

No sheep were harmed in the making of the film... probably.


Sunday, 24 May 2020

The Lady of the Shadows… The Call of the Cumberlands (1916), Julia Crawford Ivers


“Mrs. Ivers has proved time and again that she yields the palm to no mere man megaphone manipulator.” Betty Compson

I don’t know about you but, like a lot of the compulsively inquisitive/acquisitive, I have a considerable archive of the un-read, the un-listened to and the un-watched. Watching Mark Cousin’s excellent new series, Women Make Film – a film school that just happens to be run by women – I reach out to the Kino Lorber *six* disc box set, Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers and select a film by a woman I’ve never heard of… this is a time to broaden our minds.

IMDB has The Call of the Cumberlands being directed by Frank Lloyd but it has now been identified as having been directed by Julia Crawford Ivers who, according to April Miller’s excellent biography on the Women’s Film Pioneer website, is chiefly remembered for scripting some twenty films for William Desmond Taylor (she was even one of those implicated in his murder in 1922).

Julia Crawford Ivers
Ivers was apparently introverted and not one to seek the limelight it seems with the few photographs that survive being testament to her reputation as “The Lady of the Shadows”. Yet, she still made her way in a notoriously male industry and directed at least four films of which Cumberlands was the second, and one of three she made in 1916. By this time, she had been working in Hollywood for three years and she’d clearly learned her trade for, whilst it follows much of the standard western feud formula, there are some unexpected twists and some impressive scenes.

 
“If all scenario writers could direct at least one picture… and all directors could write just one scenario, motion pictures would benefit tremendously…”

Ivers clearly understood structure and Cumberlands fits a lot of scenes into a relatively modest running time, she wrote the scenario based on the novel by Charles Neville Buck, a Kentuckian who saw that changes was coming and that the traditional blood rivalries would be swept away. To Ivers credit, the source complexity doesn’t get in the way of the film’s range or flow and she covers the ground well. 

Dark deeds afoot...
It begins in the mountainous woodlands of Kentucky with the latest events of a family feud between the Souths and the Hollmans, no relation to the Hatfield–McCoys or the Hamilton–Burrs. The families have been in a truce for two years but dark deeds are afoot and Ivers shoots in near darkness as a sniper takes aim at Jesse Purvy one of the senior members of the Hollman clan. He’s badly wounded but asks his kin to kill Samson South to avenge him if he dies.

There’s further impressive use of shadow as Ivers’ cameraman, Dal Clawson, catches the dappled shadow and bright light on young Sally Spicer (Winifred Kingston), one of the South clan who is radiant innocence watching the birds in the woodland. She comes across an abandoned oil painting and finds its painter, George Lescott (Michael Hallvard) unconscious in the shadows having slipped whilst engrossed in his view.

Dappled shadows as Sally looks for the missing painter.
We cut to Samson South (Dustin Farnum), “a fighter and a dreamer…” who is perhaps surprisingly sketching his own less sophisticated picture of the glorious scenery. Here’s a tie back to Mark Cousin’s opening episode of Women Make Film on introductions, Ivers deflty establishing the main characters and the main thrust of the story all within three short and technically proficient scenes. Lescott will prove to be an agent for change just as the blood feud is a direct threat to Samson’s ability to progress with his art and with his love… Sally’s not just there for the doves and squirrels after all.

Sally takes Lescott back home to recuperate and whilst Samson’s father isn’t keen on allowing strangers to stay, he starts to bond with the painter over their love of art; trying to capture views that make the “eyes sing”. Meanwhile, the Hollmans are trailing the attempted assassin with bloodhounds and there’s some gorgeous night-shots of men with torches heading inexorably to the South’s land.

Richard L'Estrange, Dustin Farnum and Winifred Kingston
Samson’s useless/devious cousin, Tamarack Spicer (Richard L'Estrange) pops up trying to implicate him and to stake his own claim on Sally. The Hollman’s arrive and the hounds find no incriminating odours on Samson… as Sally, as you’d expect of a wild woodland spirit, hides in the trunk of an ancient tree praying for her love’s innocence. The identity of the gunman will remain a secret for later as the story shifts to focus more on Samson’s relationship with Sally and his artistic ambition when, Lescott invites him to New York to develop his art. There's an eye-popping scene involving gracefully draped semi-nude women, interesting that three of the prime examples of female silent nudity come from Ivers, Lois Weber (Hypocrites (1915) and Nell Shipman (Back to God's Country (1919)) who asked, "is the nude rude?" Not so much under the female gaze Nell.

Samson has a good look in the life class...
Here’s the nub of things, in New York, distant from the Cumberlands in time as much as space, Samson develops aesthetically and forms a bond with Lescott’s sister Adrienne (Myrtle Stedman) who decides to teach him the manners of polite society. But is Manhattan society polite? Not so much that they all tolerate Samson and there’s feuds here of a different more political and capitalist nature. Will Samson be drawn into these dirty deeds and will he forget about his Sally who, even as he is playing tennis with Adrienne, is teaching herself to read and write. None of the characters stop moving and that family feud isn’t going to stop either; will Samson go all soft when it comes to defending his family?

Sally confronts Tamarack
"Ye lies, Tam'rack," she said, in a very low and steady voice-a voice that could not be mistaken, a voice relentlessly resolute and purposeful. "Ye lies like ye always lies. Yore heart's black an' dirty. Ye're a murderer an' a coward. Samson's a-comin' back ter me.... I'm a-goin' ter be Samson's wife." From Charles Neville Buck’s original novel.

Ivers makes light work of Neville Buck’s overwrought prose - though many title cards reflect that local dialect - and adapts with a subtle dynamism. The story grabs the attention even now despite being plagued by some chemical deterioration in some of the middle sections – as you can see most of the film looks sharp! It’s a genre film made with confidence and confidence to take a few risks with images and storyline.

I love this shot through the window of Samson greeting Adrienne in a car...
I like Ivers treatment of Sally and she places her in a number of inventive shots that emphasise her connection to nature and commitment to her Samson; she's a key part of his loyalties and the highest of stakes when he's being lured by East Coast aesthetics, society and Adrienne. The painter's sister is herself a free spirit but one operating within the learned behaviours of classical music, etiquette and even the sport of kings. Ivers pre-figures Nell Shipman with Sally's imagined comparison of a similar life versus woodland frolics with friendly bears and she also lifts a shot or two from Lois Webber's Shoes as Sally looks into a mirror realising that she can't change who she is.

Influenced by Lois Webber and influencing Nell Shipman?
As April Miller notes, Ivers was generally well-reviewed and this film was no different with Margaret I MacDonald writing that whilst “the production is not an altogether perfect one… “there were “scenes that could scarcely be excelled”. Cumberlands is an exciting romp that takes in East cost cultural improvement and Western family values; a man can be true to both and still be true in love.

April Miller’s biography on Ivers can be found on the Women’s Film Pioneer website.

There is also a new Kino Lorber disc, The Intrigue: The Films of Julia Crawford Ivers which has four films including A Son of Erin (1916) which she directed after Cumberlands. It’s available from Kino Lorber direct and it's on my birthday list!


Bonus screen shots!!