Showing posts with label MORÆNEN (1924). Show all posts
Showing posts with label MORÆNEN (1924). Show all posts

Monday, 30 November 2020

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



Le Giornate is streaming highlights from previous festivals to whet our appetites for 2021 and to help keep the silent family together as we hide away in our various lockdowns and in tiered separation. This is a recording from a screening and accompaniment from the 36th Pordenone Silent Film Festival in 2017 – my first year – as part of the Scandinavian Cinema: The Swedish Challenge stream… it’s a fine choice although, as I’ve said maybe too often, you can never have enough Scandi-silents.


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. I have to highlight Peter Malberg who plays Aslak, the mentally-impaired son of the fierce patriarch at the heart of the story. It’s a difficult watch for modern eyes as the understanding of mental illness was so different a century ago, yet he’s pretty brave creating an awkward yet consistent character and managing to gain our sympathy with theatrical manners that bring to mind Lear’s Poor Tom/Edgar lost in a wilderness of unresolvable parental conflict.


House of Shadows (Morænen), directed by Anders Wilhelm Sandberg, is a Danish film set in Norway, in the far north, bounded by the gloomy, rocky, Moraine valley and, whilst the characters are often uplifted by glories of the lakes and valleys, they thoroughly oppress the high sheriff, Thor Brekanæs (Peter Nielsen) who is often seen out on the rocks crying to heaven bemoaning the shame that he thinks has blighted his life.


Peter Malberg

 

The characters – even the authoritarian and unyielding Thor – are all rounded and no one is entirely good or bad not even Swein Gudmundsson (Sigurd Langberg), Thor’s protégé – his surrogate son - who recognises that he cannot marry sheriff’s ward Thora (Karina Bell) and make her unhappy. This doesn’t stop him from behaving badly driven by his jealousy of her true love, Vasil (Emanuel Gregers) but he feels real enough. Without these everyday human failings the film’s melodramatic mysticism might overwhelm, but whilst there’s a good deal about fate and family, actions leading to shame that lives on through generations and high energy railing against God for misfortunes received as a result, it’s the people that make it so compelling.


Swein pulls back from the arranged marriage that ruined Thor’s life and that of his wife Gunhild (Karen Caspersen) who grew to hate her husband and just as she is expecting their second son, reveals that their first was sired by another man. Thor’s reaction is to cast her down and with his stonewall refusal to forgive and to nurture the shame she has brought on his family name, he sets in course the tragedies to come. Gunhild dies in childbirth – she would have killed herself anyway and with Thor’s blessing - and the boy’s mind and body are deeply affected by the cursed relationship between his parents.


Glowing sun, I hate you... Peter Nielsen as Thor the god of thunder


Forward a few decades and Vasil is away studying law and Aslak has remained in childhood, looked after by his adopted sister Thora. Thora is the angelic yin to her adopted father’s furious yang and she even plays the harp to prove it… Karina Bell edges it as Morænen’s MVP partly because Sandberg can’t resist lingering soft-focused close-ups but mostly because she plays Thora as the most morally uncompromised character.


Vasil is also searching his true path and rebels against Thor by deciding to return and pursue life as a poet. Thora greets him in idyllic shots of his boat arriving up the fjord and then their reunion against a glorious valley backdrop. They are interrupted by Swein, conflicted by his love for Thora and his jealousy, who nearly comes to blows with Vasil as he gives him back Thora’s engagement ring…


Karina Bell 


Thor naturally takes an even dimmer view of a) the poetry plan and b) Thora’s revised matrimonial schedule and pushes back against the “son” he has always hated and, for good record, he has never told about his true parentage. It’s nature versus nurture and Thor has the sons his pride and hatred deserve… we never find out just who Vasil’s true father is but it’s just struck me that it could well be the rather kindly tenant farmer Gudmund (Charles Wilken), Swein’s father. That would make perfect sense, the man Thor sees as his natural heir is the half brother of his hated Vasil and, in the final reckoning, neither has his ruthless selfishness.


The exception Thor makes to his everyday regime of stringent cruelty is for his poor broken Aslak but even he is so much his mother’s son and even though he was too young to remember her “spirit” somehow lives on.


Emanuel Gregers and Peter Nielsen

He does not know that this is the song his mother used to play when she carried him under her heart… but those sounds somehow managed to touch the strings of his soul, and to chase the darkness of his spirit.


This is a film in which music plays a major part and the harp, especially, which makes Elizabeth-Jane’s contribution all the more welcome. She and Stephen make for a intuitive paring and allow each other the space to develop themes as well as knowing when to work two or four elements all at the same time, vocal and harp plus flute and piano at one point and all with just the four hands. Sometimes they agree a structure beforehand and some themes but it always works sympathetically and makes every screening so vibrant and musically fascinating.


This one is no different 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 just hear me whooping as well!



As Thora plays the harp, Aslak is calmed and can think clearly, soothed by his mother’s song*… but Thor is enraged and smashes the harp. But he can’t keep his former wife’s legacy from surfacing forever and as tensions rise over Thora, the sheriff’s inheritance and the next generation’s desire for free will, there’s a murder committed with at least three suspects!


It’s easy for Morænen to sound overwrought but Sandberg controls matters very well and if it’s a film full of emotional excess these are counterbalanced by those performances and the setting which, along with the accompaniment makes for very satisfying locked-down viewing!


The film can be found on the Giornate website here and watch out for more goodies as the build up to next year’s event continues.



*According to Magnus Rosborn and Casper Tybjerg in their 2017 catalogue notes, the music originally used for this was probably Berceuse (1904) by the Finnish composer Armas Järnefelt, who wrote the original score for Mauritz Stiller’s Song of the Scarlet Flower (1919).


I liked that at last year's Il Cinema Ritrovato in Bologna and you can read about it here!

 

More excellent work from Slartibartfast...


Sunday, 8 October 2017

That Pordenone Touch… The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg (1927) with Orchestra San Marco, Pordenone Day 8


These people don’t do things by halves, do they? Eight days of almost ceaseless cine-muto reached a crescendo on Saturday evening with Ramón Novarro, Norma Shearer and the Orchestra San Marco, Pordenone, conducted by Mark Fitz-Gerald playing Carl Davis’ score.

The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg is another I’ve saved for the big screen and live accompaniment and Mr Davis’ score is one of his nest for this near-perfect movie from Ernst Lubitsch – romantic, witty and so poignant… Davis works from inside the film outwards and I have a feeling he and Herr Lubitsch would have got on well!

Now then, Mrs Thalberg remains a slightly controversial and divisive figure and there are those who favour Silent Shearer over Talkie Norma but I like them both and here she is simply superb. Ramon is a very pretty boy and he does well, but only Norma moved me close to tears (darn it Pordenone, that’s three times you made me cry!!) with an intelligence pf expression that is rarely equalled.


This is not the gung-ho tennis playing sophisticate of The Divorcee but a woman who finds true love and then, heart-breakingly, has to let it go. Typically, she must decide for her Prince; they will both love again and marry as their station and duty demands but they cannot be happy. All of which reminds me of a conundrum I once had with Princess Anne… but it was all worked out amicably.

Lubitsch too is a man of many phases and it was instructive to compare The Student Prince… with his Pola Carmen from earlier in the week. The latter was energetic and game for a quick laugh but, ten years and a whole continent onwards, his approach is more delicately-defined. This film has plenty of evidence of his famous touch form the over-regimented raising of hats for the prince to the lovely time he chases Norma’s humble hotelier’s daughter, Kathi, along a series of arches; the camera follows them, anticipating their arrival at the next arch until, suddenly, the don’t: the prince has caught his girl and who knows what private passions are being expressed.

The pacing is so well handled – a real musician’s film – and the overall tone is one of good humour even if the end-game involves balancing duty against individual happiness.

Lovely composition. Cheers Getty Images!
The programme notes reveal that The Student Prince… was an attempt to win back the mid-European market by showing a more human side to Germanic characters – a similar problem was faced with Herbert Wilcox’s Dawn (1928) about Edith Cavell. Here Lubitsch is on safer ground but these men have honour as well as humour.

Appropriately enough for a Ramon Navaro film, this film was M-GM’s second most expensive film after Ben-Hur (in which the actor starred). Apparently, Norma fought off competition from May McAvoy, Marceline Day, and Fay Wray for the role but I can’t see any of them playing the role as well. That said… there were moments of tension with her director as he felt he initial performance was too grand: ‘Mein Gott!’ he shouted. ‘I can get a waitress from the commissary who will do better than you.’

That may well be Ernie but she’s got a guy called Mr Thalberg at home and he’s quite important. IN the end, Irving superbly defused the situation with the line: ‘Darling, I’m sure we can all learn a lot from Mr. Lubitsch.’ I’m sure she did.

We also watched:

Karina Bell and Peter Nielsen in Morænen
The Swedish Challenge has been my favourite strand and shown me that there is far more to Scandinavian silent film than Victor and Mauritz… today’s double maintained the quality and in the case of the latter Anders Wilhelm Sandberg’s Morænen (1924), featured some of the best accompaniment of the week from Stephen Horne on piano and various and Elizabeth-Jane Baldry. 

Elizabeth-Jane users her sonic pallet way beyond the confines of traditional playing much as Stephen has pushed the piano; together they sounded like a dozen players and produce music that is delicate and the with all the attack of more avantgarde composition. In the end, the Teatro Verdi wouldn’t let them leave the orchestra pit until they’d take a bow on the main stage: and well deserved too!

The film itself was quite dark with an overbearing father a dying mother and a brain-damaged son. It’s interesting to see how mental disability was treated at the time and – given the huge developments in diagnosis and treatment over the years, very valuable social history.

Everyone seems to care for the boy in question, even the father for whom he is a daily reminder of his "hateful" mother (IHAO), a man of unyielding selfishness his over-compensatoin was for his own failure.


Teuvo Puro and Jussi Snellman’s Anna-Liisa (1922) was no less challenging and this time involved infanticide a woman unwittingly getting pregnant after an, un-consensual liaison with a local ruffian. She has the child but kills it new born and as she tries to move on and marry the man she does love; this past comes back to haunt her. The answer is to come clean and accept both crime and punishment: another scandi-redemption song and it’s true.

Gabriel Thibaudeau wove some elegant lines throughout his piano improvisations, he seems to have all the time in the world: The Eric “Slowhand” Clapton of accompaniment.

No, please... don't kill Creighton Hale!
After all this Scandinavian seriousness, hearts were sinking at the merest sight of Danish director, Benjamin Christensen in the credits for Seven Footprints to Satan (1929).  But, we needn’t have worried for it was an absolute hoot that prefigures the comedy horror of Cat and the Canary and Universal’s funnier moments. It’s very well done and whilst Creighton Hale rises to the occasion, Thelma Todd just blows him off screen!! Screwball before screwball was invented.

Turns out Christensen was far funnier than we thought… talking of which: don’t miss Haxan, at the Pheonix Cinma on 31st October… Halloween Night, yes, that’s right! Tickets available here!

Rising star Daan van den Hurk was on hand to have fun accompanying this one.

Blanche Sweet
Also funny and disturbing was The Deadlier Sex (1920) and the sight of Boris Karloff in pants that looked liked they had been stolen from a New Romantics party in 1981!? Thank goodness we didn’t see those in colour!

Robert Thornby directs and his two leads sparkle especially Blanche Sweet as the daughter of an industrial magnate aiming to be just as tough when “Wall Street alchemist” Harvey Judson (Huntley Green) tries to bully her Dad’s former business out to the market. Nothing a bit of sedation and kidnapping can’t fix as she has Green transported to the wilds to sink or swim.

Boris is hired to put the frighteners on him but he takes his role a little too seriously. It’s fun and Masterclass graduate, Bryson Kemp, played along with a spirit of adventure!

Georges Méliès: Le Rosier Miraculeux (1904)
Then, just before The Student Prince… we were treated to a recently-discovered Georges Méliès: Le Rosier Miraculeux (1904) or The Wonderful Rose Tree projected in almost immaculate condition on the huge screen. It is truly amazing that his work is still being discovered but it’s thanks to the dedication of the very people who attend, program, perform and otherwise support Pordenone that all is possible.

So keep on being passionate about cinema muto in all its forms. Enjoy it, discuss it, engage and promote it and we will not only have more wonderful weeks like this one but so much more.

Grazie Mille Pordenone!! Vediamo l'anno prossimo per GCM37!


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