Top guns... The Guns of Loos (1928), Stephen Horne, British Silent Film Festival

Henry Victor

This was one of those silent films that leaves you reeling – imagery, invention and performance intensity all enhanced by a score that refused to let its own power do anything other than add flavour to these already potent ingredients. Ever seen Stephen Horne accompany an uninteresting silent film? Nope, me neither - he always respects the primary source and works to bring out the best of what’s already there: like a skilled actor interpreting a Tudor text.

The Guns of Loos was a surprise to those, like me, who had never previously heard of it and, following a day of early British talkies, a step back to silence simply blew those others away. After hours of sometimes ponderous delivery, films that merely played with the novelty of sound and static actors tied by invisible strings to their microphones, we were reminded of just how powerful moving images could be in 1928.

This wasn’t the first Sinclair Hill directed film we’d seen today, that was Dark Red Roses (1929) in which a fretful sculptor, David (Stewart Rome) weighs up the option of cutting his cello-playing love rival’s hands off. The action was studio-bound and a few performances aside, Frances Doble was good as the object of the artists’ attention, it just felt slight and a little bit clunky.

Grimlaw fights for his self-worth

Not so The Guns of Loos which took a character-led view of the Battle of Loos – known with good reason as Dundee’s Flodden and the largest land battle in British military history. Some 60,000 lives were lost including many from the Dundee divisions of Scottish regiments. Stephen’s score was commissioned by The Great War Dundee Project and Dundee Contemporary Arts to help commemorate the centenary for a city which sent over 30,000 men to fight.

The story was informed by Sinclair Hill’s own wartime experience and so impressed Lloyd George that he claimed: “if I had had this film in 1916 it would have been worth a division to me.”

The Guns of Loos is about true love, redemption, comradeship, industrial relations and the movement of horse-drawn gun batteries at speed, over muddy ground. No animals were – probably – injured during the filming of this story but a number of cameramen may have required a rest-cure.

There is a love triangle between munitions factory owner John Grimlaw (Henry Victor), a young army officer Clive (Donald Macardle) and Diana Cheswick (Madeleine Carroll here in her first film and who serenely reminded me once again why my granddad Bill was such a fan…). The battle was partly lost due to a shortage of British munitions and Hill smartly ties this in with this smaller scale drama.

Time for a speech...

The film is packed full of “European” camera flourishes – this could almost be a German film… There’s a lovely sequences as the camera pans over the faces of a wedding party a pub... then swaying in grainy close-up as the groom gives a speech. As the locals gather to say farewell to those about to fight, the image movies to and fro as they sing Auld Lang Syne – with Clive and John almost pulling at Diane like a wish bone. The ground beneath is indeed shifting beyond anybody’s control and then as the line moves up screen there appears almost a mirror image below of men and horses trudging over the mud of the western front.

There are inspired shots of gun batteries being moved – a tracking shot from alongside and then some shots from underneath which convey the rough-edged energy – the images are blurred and impressionistic, a little bit Gance and something altogether more modern. The impact is visceral and unsettling – the uncertain velocities of battle.

A tip of the hat to Hill’s cinematographers: D.P. Cooper, Desmond Dickinson and Sidney Eaton.

Donald Macardle and Madeleine Carroll

The performances are universally interesting and none more so than from Henry Victor, who, held in close up for so many shots, is a revelation, spitting out his lines as he urges his factory workers on, crying in fear as he breaks down during his first action and then gradually re-building his self-worth urged on by his rival and comrade… There weren’t many heroes this complex in contemporary cinema.

Donald Macardle’s eyes are also close to tears as he looks on at Diana in the bitter-sweet adoration of the loser in love… he is decent and strong but Diana sees something great in Grimlaw, something she can help save with her huge, enigmatic frown, gentle smile and… simple excess of lovely.

Diana’s mother, Lady Cheswick, is also superbly played by Adeline Hayden Coffin who looks like she may have a crush of her own on young Clive but exudes emotional intelligence. There’s also grand support from Bobby Howes as factory worker then private, Danny and an impossibly young,  Hermione Baddeley (a hyper-Hermione: who knew such a thing existed?) as his girlfriend Mavis.

These people just feel real and Hill deserves great credit for his casting and coaching. The British war films of the period tended to be as "documentary" as possible and whilst Hill’s reconstructions are no different and are exemplary in that respect, his characters ring true.

Daniel Laidlaw on screen

Which brings us right back to Mr Horne’s score... which was, as always, laced with his trademark integrity, due diligence and lyricism carrying intrinsic warmth that elevates any hope or adds poignancy to any tragedy. Stephen was ably supported by two other players on cornet and percussion*. He also had the aid of bagpiper Daniel Laidlaw who not only fought in the battle itself but also appeared in the film. A sample of his playing was inserted in the live music… eerie and effective; if that doesn’t make you feel just a little bit Celtic then you’re English beyond all help!

We could have watched the whole show all over again even as the long day closed… Catch the film and live score if you can and here’s hoping that this one gets a DVD release.

While we’re at it, isn’t it time for The First Born and The Manxman to also be released? Two of the best British silent films with two excellent Stephen Horne soundtracks… how does that not work as a commercial proposition Mr and Ms Copyright Holder?!

You ain’t heard the last of this, mark my words, The Man!

*I didn’t catch their names but if someone could let me know I’ll update.

British infantry of the 47th (2nd London) Division advance through the gas cloud on 25 September 1915

The three-year itch... Fascination (1931)

Madeleine Carroll is indeed fascinating... not only was she the highest paid actress in the world in 1938 she was also awarded the the American Medal of Freedom and the French Legion of Honour for her tireless efforts during and after the Second World War. Her sister was killed in the Blitz and she headed off into the war-zone working with the Red Cross in Italy whilst after the war she made films to promote human understanding abandoning her Hollywood career completely by 1949.

In this early British talkie, made when she was just 26, Carroll is re-united with her director and co-star from The First Born, Miles Mander. Watching this largely inferior film I marvel at the "commercial interests" that have, so far, prevented any release of the restored version that so impressed at the 2011 British Film Festival gala screening. But,so it goes...

Dorothy Bartlam and Carl Harbord

We should be thankful for small mercies and we are lucky to have this film which has survived in a much-viewed single 35mm nitrate print. Restored by Network and the BFI the images are clearer than the soundtrack with subtitles essential to follow sections of dialogue. Mander was a pioneer in sound and had considered adding a soundtrack to The First Born so what we hear now is nowhere near what was first produced.

Visually Fascination is more interesting than you might expect from an early talkie. Whilst not as fluid as its silent precursor the film does have some interesting touches the central couple are tracked chasing each other through their house to arrive on a couch, a cow looks on as they enjoy a chaste roll in the hay and the camera follows the man into the glamour as he encounters the actress Gwenda Farrell (Carroll).
   

Dorothy Bartlam takes the plunge

The film is based on Eliot Crawshay-Williams' play and Mander does his best to overcome the static restrictions of source material and sonics with these outdoor sequences and sparkling performances from his female leads.

The story starts with a toy train crash as three children play and the young Vera (Allison Van Dyke) and Larry (John Kove) fall out and make up to be unofficially married by the third (a young Freddie Bartholomew converting his chance with aplomb) using a telephone directory as a bible.

Marriage isn't child's play...

Skip forward a decade and a half and we find Vera (now Dorothy Bartlam) and Larry (Carl Harbord) in the haystack making plans for when he leaves Oxford to become an architect.They rush back to her home and start drawing up their Ten Commandments of Marriage to encode their love and respect for each other: a relationship built to last?

Switch forward three years and Vera is seen reading the list almost as a relic of a bygone age. Larry laughs at their youthful earnest but "remembers" their joint promises. They seem happy and his business is progressing as he chases down a potential client for his interior design.

Vera re-reads the commandments

He makes numerous phone calls but no one is picking up and the scene shifts to show just why as his client, Miss Farrell, is in the middle of being dumped by her caddish lover Ronnie (Roland Culver). Ronnie departs and dippy pal Kay (a super turn from Kay Hammond) arrives to cheer things up by slipping on The Wedding March 78 and then muting the sound by sitting on the record player.

Kay Hammond silences Mendelssohn's march

Eventually Larry goes to meet the actress after one of her shows and, as she emerges through the curtains of her dressing room it's trouble at first sight: Larry's jaw hits the floor and you know his work-love balance is about to be seriously disturbed.

The architect meets the actress

Larry starts seeing more of Gwenda and the lies become larger as Vera is left in the dark. There's little overt love-making (Britain was always "post-code"...) but Larry's betrayal is made a potent one by Vera's innocent trust and her simple reliance on his love: she doesn't need to re-read the commandments...

For her part, Gwenda develops her own passion for this bright-but-dull young man and grasps at her chance for happiness without thinking of the others' potential sadness. As for Larry... he's in mid-twenties crisis and the seven year itch has come four years early.

The choice is yours Larry. Or is it?

No spoilers... such stories can only resolves themselves with someone being sacrificed in the struggle but the way Mander deals with this is actually surprising and sophisticated.

Dorothy Bartlam gives a splendid performance as the loyal wife who remains resolute even when her dreams begin to crumble and out-powers Carl Harbord who is rather too callow to believably attract the experienced actress (in reality only two years his senior).

Dorothy Bartlam

Madeleine Carroll is a natural as the actress isolated by her own success: a nuanced mix of the world-weary and luminous. Larry may not be charismatic but his everyday charm is a welcome reality in her world. Carroll's greatest success and sacrifce were to follow and she clearly avoided the pitfalls of fame: you can take the girl out of West Bromwich but...

Fascination is available on Network DVD, either direct or from Movie Mail or Amazon: it is very reasonably priced! Now - please - can we have The First Born?

Three women and… The 39 Steps (1935)

Peggy Ashcroft

As some of us are delighting in discovering Hitchcock’s early silent work, it leads you on to that period immediately after, when he was establishing his future templates in a series of bold and innovative British sound pictures.

Seeming familiarity means that you forget how skilful and impactful Hitchcock was… these are his early albums recorded on modest budgets for indy labels… fresh, abrasive and highly influential. Would Hitchcock have made his 1950’s Hollywood classics without the ground work laid in the 30s… isn’t The 39 Steps the film North by North West was intended to ape and isn’t Robert Donat the prototypical Cary Grant?

Robert Donat

The 39 Steps certainly has much style and wit and I enjoyed it all the more for being able to place it in the context of his silent work. The story moves on at some pace and is so well structured with stories within the story and a maguffin to end all maguffins… But, for me at least, the tale revolves around the main character’s interaction with three women.

The tale starts in music hall, with jaunty expressionist shots of the theatre exterior as we follow a great coated man entering to watch a Mr Memory – “every day he commits to memory 50 new facts!”. The scenes in the theatre are superb and reminded me of the audience shots in The Ring, lots of British characters rapidly established through their questions, hesitations and off-hand comments… it’s quick fire and very funny.

“What causes pip in poultry?”, persists one dour character and there are repeated shouts of “how old’s Mae West?” leading to a scrap between audience members.. ah London!

Miss Annabella Smith

Robert Donat and Lucie Mannheim

A shot rings up and panic ensues… the man in the great coat (Robert Donat) rescues a lady from the crush and she asks to come back to his flat…a pretty forward suggestion in those times yet one which the man doesn’t hesitate to accept. The sign on his rented Portland Place apartment says he is Mr Richard Hannay – in Britain temporarily rather than his native Canada. The woman introduces herself as Annabella Smith (Lucie Mannheim) and sauciness turns quickly to suspense…”I fired those shots… there were two men there who wanted to kill me”.

She’s a freelance agent who had tracked two foreign agents to the theatre, they have a secret vital to Britain’s air defence which they are planning to get out of the country as soon as they can. She loads Hannay up with as much information as she can: “Have you ever heard of the 39 Steps? No, what’s that? A pub?”


She tells him about how ruthless the group is and that their leader has the tip of his little finger missing… Hannay is having the batton passed to him as he now knows too much for the agents to leave him alone.

She is knifed in the night and hands Hannay a map of Scotland showing a pencil mark around Alt na Shellach near Killin…(and coincidentally near to a mountain, Meall nan Tarmachan, I climbed in the summer...spooky!) her voice-over recounts the key facts: Hitch is making sure the audience is following…there’s a lot to take in.

Hannay escapes disguised as a milkman, makes it form Portland Place to Euston in time to catch the Flying Scotsman… and just evade the two spies. The scream of the woman finding the body merges with the train whistle as it roars up the tracks.

Over the Forth Rail Bridge… the police come searching and he snogs a surprised Madeleine Carroll (good plan!) as cover but she gives him away - there'll be no easy route to trust with this one.

Margaret, the crofter’s wife

Hannay escapes across the glens and encounters a crofter (John Laurie). This is a pivotal section of the film and features great cameos from both Laurie and a young, frankly very cute, Peggy Ashcroft. Ashcroft plays a Glasgow girl who’s married an older man, swapping the energy of the big city for the smothering quiet of the country and her oppressive husband. She laps up Hannay’s tales of London: “is it true that all the ladies paint their toe nails…”

What are we to make of this character? Is she the counter-point to Hannay’s chance taking/life-living adventurer?

So much is communicated so quickly as the dour crofter says grace over the supper table, and his wife sees Hannay glancing at the latest Portland Murder headline: she realises and he mouths innocence at her. All the while Laurie looks at both sensing their instant connection, jealous and fearful at the same time.

Robert Donat, John Laurie and Peggy Ashcroft

He goes outside ostensibly to lock the barn but only goes to spy on hannay and his wife through the window. We see her and Hannay debating his situation… she trusts him. Ashcroft is simply stunning, quick witted and clever actress who tells an immense story within this relatively short camera time.

She hears the police coming early the next day, her husband is going to give him up but she – Margaret – gives Hannay the break – he kisses her and says he’ll never forget her… in another time they could have been a couple? She knows she’ll be made to pay and looks in despair at the floor as he leaves.

Hannay is chased across the glens and finds his way to Alt na Shellach… where, after he telling them he’s from Annabella Smith, he meets the owner, Professor Jordan (Godfrey Tearle). There’s a drinks reception for the Professor’s daughter… it’s a quick shift to apparent normality after the chase.

Hannay talks with the Professor whom he thinks Annabelle was intent on seeing but, he holds up his hand to show the missing finger tip of the enemy agent… Donat’s reaction shot is cool and rather impressed – suave doesn’t do him justice!

Godfrey Tearle and Robert Donat

The Professor offers Hannay an honourable suicide but after he declines shoots him. Hannay’s life is saved by the bullet getting lodged in the crofter’s hymn book – the film cuts to Laurie asking Margaret about it and as she tells him he hits her… she's saved Hannay twice now but the police have him.

Pamela

Madelaine Carroll and Robert Donat

Hannay escapes through the window, he joins a march and then ducks into a political rally where he is mistaken for the guest speaker… Again Hitchcock pulls us back to “normality” as, in the midst of all this re-assuringly cosy political debating, there is a real drama being played out – life and death…There’s a brilliant sequence as Donat makes up a stirring speech whilst the police arrive with Pamela (Madelaine Carroll) in tow – she identifies Hannay and they and the enemy agents close in on him. He plays for time by stirring up the political rhetoric… such an admirable and resourceful character – a great cinema hero!

As he’s arrested he pleads with Pamela to contact the Canadian embassy… she refuses…but he’s told her too much and she’s taken with him by the agents. Once again the baton has been passed…from Annabelle to Hannay and onto Pamela. A great camera sweep moves from focusing on the captured couple in the agents car to a rear view of it speeding through the Trossachs… now the final section of the film begins as the relationship between Hannay and Pamela is built.

The car is stopped by a sheep-jam and they handcuff Pamela to Hannay but he drags her out of the car and they run…Annabelle trusted Hannay enough to tell him her story whilst Margaret instinctively knew Hannay was good – there was an instant connection. But Pamela just won’t believe him… and, even when they are physically attached, he struggles to connect. It’s the classic rom-com "falling in hate" scenario and the fact that they’re handcuffed – literally inseparable – makes it all the more barbed! How many relationships end up like this let alone get started as a “ball and chain”?

Maybe Pamela is spoiled, used to having her own way and also bored and used to being allowed to complain all of the time… she’s certainly not happy. Another woman for Hannay to save? And this time he might manage it…having failed with the first two.

They stay in the Argyll Arms… welcomed by a complicit look from the barman, similar to the milk man earlier in the film, who was only too willing to help Hannay when he thought he was trying to avoid his lovers’ husband! A male conspiracy… Hitchcock's shared fantasy. The barman asks his wife if she think they’re married, "Idinnae ken and Idinnae care. They’re so terrible in love with each other!” We laugh but she’s right and is about the first to see it. Pamela isn’t convinced yet and Hannay’s bullying her…even if he’s joking about it.

Pamela removes her damp stockings and Hitchcock focuses unashamedly on her legs. This was certainly provocative for the time and a way of reinforcing her vulnerability: but, impressive as the Carroll pins are, the viewer is uncomfortable with this frankness. Donat’s hand is inevitably drawn to them by their metal connection, he grabs her knee but she pushes a sandwich in his hand... a humorous apology for the free show?

They chat and both fall asleep, Pamela gets free of the cuffs and is about to escape when the two agents call Professor Jordan’s house and give the game away: the 39 Steps is to be revealed at the London Palladium. She returns to Hannay knowing his innocence at last.


Spoilers ahead:
The film ends as it began, in a theatre… Pamela tells Hannay that no information is missing and he despairs then hears the tune that’s been stuck in his head… it’s the introductory music for Mr Memory, the penny drops:“All the information’s inside Memory’s head!”

Grabbed by the police, Hannay calls out “what are the 39 Steps?” and Mr Memory starts to answer but gets shot by Professor Jordan who then gets got by the police: trapped from all directions on stage. Mr Memory dies giving up his secret and the camera pulls away as Hannay and Pamela - voluntarily this time - hold hands.

It's a classic use of the Maguffin… the motor of the plot but not important in itself… (see also the Avenger in The Lodger as well…) it doesn’t matter what the 39 Steps is…or even what the secret is that’s being stolen… the real movers in the story are the relationships and specifically Hannay’s time spent with Anabelle, Margaret and Pamela.

The cast is excellent, especially Ashcroft and Donat. Carroll is also good value as the spoilt and stubborn Pamela: another Hitchcock blonde who endures much for our entertainment.

The 39 Steps is available in a variety of releases. I watched the ITV release which has a nice short feature on early Hithcock… got some more catching up to do I think.

The sounds of silents... The First Born (1928)

Musical accompaniment has always played a major part in the most successful viewing of films from the silent era. Silent movies were never actually that silent and now there is so much new music.

2011 has been a great year for watching silent film with new and innovative musical performances. I have seen The Dodge Brothers trad Americana help bring Louise Brooks' Beggars of Life back to life at the BFI, Pola Negri's rediscovered Mania embellished with a vibrant new Jerzy Maksymiuk score performed by the Wrocław Leopoldinum chamber orchestra and twice witnessed Goldfrapp's Will Gregory and Portishead's Adrian Utley perform their amazing new score for Joan of Arc.

All have been musically excellent and have brought audiences closer to the films; helping us to reconnect and fully appreciate the depth of art in the older work. There's also something magical in the combination of the live performances with the images sealed on the celluloid. The spirit of the films is re-animated by the sound especially when it's live and without a safety net.

To the above list must be added the name of Stephen Horne whose musical support of The First Born at last night's London Film Festival Archive Gala performance was nothing short of exhilarating. Accompanied by Janey Miller on oboe and Martin Pyne on percussion, Mr Horne produced a totally sympathetic score that underpinned the story and contributed to an extraordinary level of engagement from the audience.

The music was soulful and melodically inventive with Janey Miller's mournful oboe particularly prominent. Elements from Gershwin's The Man I Love were woven into this story of the well-heeled selfish classes of whom only one truly follows her heart, patriotic themes drummed alongside another character's drive to become an MP whilst Stephen picked up a flute for the rhythmic change of pace of this character's time in the Dark Continent.

The audience response was synchronised by the music, we laughed along with and not at the film and some even gasped out loud during moments of peril! How can a jaded modern audience be wooed into the pace of such a film? It's so much about the music.

None of this takes away from what is an exceptional restoration by the BFI National Archive of a pretty smart movie! The First Born joins A Cottage on Dartmoor (also with accompaniment from Mr Horne) and Blackmail as amongst the best British late period silent films. It's directed with some panache by Miles Mander from a scenario he co-scripted with Alma Reville (Mrs Hitch no less) and features inventive cinematography throughout, including one startling sequence of hand-held work.

There are shots from acute angles, characters addressing each other via mirrors, dollies backing off to reveal and explain... and Gance-styled "flashbacks" showing inner lives.

Miles Mander stars as the weasel Sir Hugo Boycott a man with ill-fitting suits and a twisted moustache. He is doted on by his wife, Madeleine, played by the divine Madeleine Carroll, but she has not given him the child he wanted. So Hugo strops off to Africa to punish her and to pretty much do as he pleases. Loving and faithful throughout, Madeleine conceives of a plan that will lure him back. And, whilst Hugo makes merry with the local dancers she politely rebuts the advances of the handsome (very), well groomed and perfectly-attired David, Lord Harborough (John Loder).

Hugo returns following the arrival of their apparent first born child and they settle down as he pursues a career in politics as well as continuing his interest in other women, including one of Madeleine’s best friends. He is, as she later exclaims, "an utter cad!"

But Madeleine’s love is constant, they have a second child and Hugo is on course for Parliament: will the truth and love win out?

The restoration is simply amazing and rich in texture. Some sections looked almost pristine even on the Queen Elizabeth Hall's large screen from four rows out. There was a moment, staring at the fabric on Madeleine Carroll's sleeve that I felt lost in the image... unselfconsciously drawn into the heart of the film.

That was the image but it was also the sound.

Both worked together to give us an evening of uncomplicated pleasure. At the end the film and the musicians were applauded of the stage sent to the dressing room with cheers and beaming smiles... when was the last time I saw an audience so lifted by a film in this way?

Top notch entertainment and I'll be watching the whole thing again first chance I get.

Tip of the hat to Stephen Horne who played it and also to Pamela Silent London who recommended it in the first place!

There's a tantalising clip here: DVD next year BFI?!