To the Spaniard, the love of the bullfight is inborn.
A heritage of barbarism – its heroes embody the bravery of the knights of old…
Enter Rodolfo Pietro Filiberto Raffaello Guglielmi di
Valentina d'Antonguella for the opening screening of this year’s Nederland’s
Silent Film Festival, playing a bullfighter and a Latin lover with a sexuality
as exotic in his own way as Pola Negri (don’t mention the funeral) and other
Europeans deployed by Hollywood to break boundaries and post-Victorian taboo.
Valentino’s Juan Gallardo is driven by desire in life and love, and whilst
being a masculine ideal is also at the mercy of his passions when torn between
his true love Carmen the wanton Doña Sol, a spoilt, rich man-killing vamp who
dominates and discards at will.
Blood and Sand leaves you emotionally rung with
its derivative charm, wearing its Bizet firmly on its embroidered sleeve,
elevated by superb performances and, as we now know, Dorothy Arzner’s innovative
editing making us feel the heat of the bullfight even when matador, the bull
and “the beast with ten thousand heads” are thousands of miles apart. As
festival director, Daan van den Hurk said, no bulls were harmed in the making
of this film, but it seems so purely because Arzner’s editing of stock
bullfighting footage and Fred Niblo’s shots is seamless. The frenzy and the
threat feel real as Juan takes on man and beast in a “sport” the film clearly
disapproves of.
Daan was also multi-tasking, providing stirring
accompaniment with the assistance of flamenco guitarist Tijn van der Sanden
whose fleet fingered flourishes added diegetic immediacy to the film as well as
dramatic flavouring. I loved the way the two worked together and it sounded
fantastic on my new speakers, not as good as live but hopefully one day we’ll
all be in the same room.
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| Meet the family |
June Mathis wrote the screenplay based on Thomas
Cushing’s smash hit play, which was itself formed from Vicente Blasco Ibáñez’
novel, Blood and Sand. It tells the tale of a poor boy from Seville,
Juan (Valentino), “a son of the people” whose natural bravery enables him to
become a toreador. His humble beginnings are set out complete with wise and
loving mother Angustias (Rose Rosanova), sister Encarnacion (Rosita Marstini) and
comedy brother-in-law Antonio (Leo White). Despite being called Zapaterin,
Little Shoemaker, Juan has no interest in learning his father’s trade
and dodges working with Antonio, a saddle maker, in order to go play at
bullfighting.
Juan and friends head off to Andalucia where the locals
enjoyed watching the amateurs from Seville. Juan does well but one of his
friends is not so lucky with a watching bandit, Plumitas (Walter Long),
accompanied by a title card noting that bandits and bullfighters both “risk
life to gain a livelihood.” Juan avenges his friend’s demise and is not
discouraged, dreaming of building his mother a fine house when and if he
succeeds.
Naturally Juan gets talent spotted and ends up impressing
the crowd mightily on his debut including his childhood sweetheart Carmen (Lila
Lee) and the two grow close as his career advances and marry.
He searched deep into men’s hearts, ever willing to
excuse weakness and, in a master ledger, recorded the lives of those who
interested him.
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| And he can dance... |
Throughout proceedings, a local philosopher keeps popping
up, almost at random… Don Joselito (Charles Belcher) “a student of humanity”
who will act as a guide to the morality of events passing comment and offering
advice… ultimately condemning bullfighting. That beast with ten thousand heads…
the audience bloodlust driving the barbarism that costs lives.
Gallardo’s success makes him the idol of Seville’s café
culture and he gains a manager (Fred Becker) along with a matador, El Nacional
(George Field) who “fought for living and not for glory” as well as a popular
picador, Potaje (Jack Winn) and old Carabato (Gilbert Clayton) who served Juan
“in order to cling to the arena and retain his pigtail” – worn by the
fraternity. The film may disapprove of the sport, but it takes a delight in the
details.
There’s a lovely scene in one of those cafes when we get
the chance to see Valentino dance – he had made his way initially in Hollywood
by dancing and teaching dance – and you can see his poise on the dance floor
alongside and a dancer named Rosa. The women gets just too close though and Juan’s
loyalty to Carmen makes him push her onto the floor… it’s a foreshadow of
things to come.
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| Rudolph and Lila Lee |
Men were Doña Sol’s hobby. A bullfighter was a new
experience.
Time passes and Juan is famous across Spain, and he
catches the eye of the daughter of the country’s bull-breeder, Doña Sol, played
by the “exotic” Nita Naldi, who was born Mary Nonna Dooley to Irish parents in
New York… Juan’s reaction to this new
attention is primal, and he willingly accepts her gift of a ring given by
Cleopatra to Ceasar… he’s flattered but still loyal to his wife, but Doña Sol
is not easily dissuaded.
The two begin an affair, with Doña Sol dragging out the
dark aggression in the man, a strange sadomasochistic edge to his fifty shades
of betrayal. He doesn’t feel comfortable in her world of refined hypocrisy and
artificial emotions, but he can’t resist the animal games she makes him play.
A page from Don Joselito’s book reads: Juan Gallardo
has reached his goal. Will success spoil him or will his love for little Carmen
overcome the plaudits of the populace and the cruelty of the national sport?
Which sets up the finale perfectly!
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| Rudolph and Nita Naldi |
Blood and Sand has Glamour and Alvin Wyckoff’s
cinematography captures some lovely atmospheres, Juan’s wooing of Carmen, the
mock action in the stadia and the streets supposedly in Seville. Valentino has
the star power and is able to convey humour as well as sexuality, he doesn’t
take himself too seriously – an attractive feature for most of those watching –
but he is passionate beyond reason when push comes to shove. Here his masculinity
is used against him by the vamping Naldi… who else could carry this all off and
still remain heroic?
The version screened was from a Lobster print of the David
Killiam restoration which is shorter than the recent version released by Kino
on Blu-ray. This has the tinting restored and comes in at over 25 minutes
longer with a smashing score played by the Monte Alto Orchestra and a booklet
including an essay from noted Valentino expert Donna Hill. Well worth purchasing if you haven’t got it!
And remember, as Don Joselito says, Happiness and
prosperity built on cruelty and bloodshed cannot survive.
