Showing posts with label Marcel Perez. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marcel Perez. Show all posts

Friday, 26 June 2020

Appointment TV… Kidnapped (1917), MS and KBTV with John Sweeney


Back in the days when you couldn’t stream on demand and when even recording on VHS just wasn’t enough, the pull of certain television shows was such that you just had to watch them live. Who shot JR?, Ross and Rachel’s wedding, the fight between Ken Barlow and Mike Baldwin over Diedre in Coronation Street, certain things you were desperate to watch and to share in the knowledge that everyone else was as well.

Throughout lockdown the Kennington Bioscope have been broadcasting shorter films on their YouTube channel but tonight was something else as, in addition to a programme of shorts, 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 the film in question. 

The face of KBTV
As usual KB MC, Michelle Facey, held the whole programme together, the Kennington Bomb-chelle, surrounded by a magnificent floral display and briefed to the hilt on the treasures we were about to watch. There were times when it was clearly live – the odd glitch that merely added to the collective buzz - yet it’s amazing how quickly the KB has evolved its offering over the five episodes – or webisodes if you will, although I know most of you won’t  - under Cyrus Gabrysch’s technical direction, Michelle’s presentation as well as Tod Higginson’s facilitation of the live chat – he also does the translations. The chatter was enlivened by Fritzi feeding us good-humoured background as the film progressed; if Swanson had access to a keyboard (and was alive), this is exactly her tone of voice.

The audience was again international, from the Wild West to Walthamstow (the Untamed East) via the Highlands of “Scotch” and the lowlands of Holland with a number spreading the word via social media snaps of Michelle on the big screen. In our world this was an event and we were re-connecting with a shared experience unlike almost any other since the middle of March. Marshall McLuhan may have declared TV, cool as opposed to “hot media” radio, but he reckoned without the “lean-forward” engagement of social media immediacy and, indeed, the Piano Cam showing us Cyrus, John and Costa’s accompaniment.

So, to the films…

All white mate?
For a man of so many names, it is surprising that Marcel Peréz is the most successful silent comedian most people have not heard of. Marcel, also known as Robinet, Tweedy, Tweedledum, and Twede-Dan was a very talented filmmaker who devised and directed as well as performed. I especially like his deranged serial The Extraordinary Adventures of Saturnino Farandola (1913) but his shorts are near always great value. Robinet’s White Suit (1911) is typical of his high-energy style, man wears impossibly clean suit which gradually gets filthy with the passing of unfortunate events until, ta-dah!, he bumps into a group of painters and their cans of matt white!

Not rocket but comedy “science” with every element mixed to perfection. Cyrus Gabrysch added to the alchemy hitting all the notes in exactly the right order.

Then off to the Turin for a gorgeous travelogue, The River Pescara (1912), watching boats head through the soothing waters to the coast. Costas Fotopoulos accompanied helping us keep a cool head on this hottest of June days.

As with other KB episodes, both shorts came courtesy of the EYE Filmmuseum and the Jean Desmet Collection.

When the river Pescara meets the sea...

"A film for all the family"… Kidnapped (1917), with John Sweeney

Fritzi’s aim in putting this film out on DVD was to recreate the typical programme of a night at the picture house in 1917 and along with the feature there are various short films including some of the same players all from the Edison Film Company and their series of Conquest programmes. Conquest was designed, as Fritzi quoted, to create “… the open road to entertainment and knowledge…” and to provide “… the first definitive contribution in the propaganda to popularise clean and wholesome films for all right-thinking Americans.”

Directed by Alan Crosland – who would make The Jazz Singer a decade later – this is the first feature-length adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped and as per the positive reviews of the time, is a very decent and highly watchable effort. I have my own special relationship to this story after having been given an illustrated copy of the book for Christmas aged two and, being told I couldn’t read it, them opening it up to discover that no, I couldn’t read. Things have changed on that front but I poured over the pictures as a toddler and was delighted to see how many of the scenes are replicated in this film.

David asks a friendly crone if she's seen a big castle...
Raymond McKee stars as a slightly too old David Balfour (17), who is robbed of his inheritance by his evil Uncle Ebenezer (Joseph Burke) who first tries to arrange his accidental death on a rickety staircase in the tower of his castle and then arranges for him to be abducted by the nefarious crew of the brig, Covenant. Captain Hoseason (Franklyn Hanna) who has plans to sell him into slavery in the Carolinas.

Kidnapped was set against the backdrop of the Jacobite Rebellion and some actual events, in particular the "Appin murder", which occurred in the aftermath and for which the chief suspect was one Alan Breck Stewart. In the film, the Covenant accidentally rams a boat carrying Breck (Robert Cain in fine swashbuckling form), killing all but him. The crew soon realise who their new companion is and attempt to kill him and take his money, together with young david, Breck proves more than a match for them and even outnumbered succeeds in fighting them off.

Robert Cain about to swash...
Beck and David escape to the Highlands trying to dodge the Sassenachs as they resolve their own political differences through honest dialogue (seriously, take a flipping note Trump and Johnson). They witness the killing of the King’s loathed agent, Colin Campbell (Horace Haine) at Appin and are assumed to be the assassins by the English soldiers. They escape to safety with rebel Cluny McPherson (Samuel N. Niblack) before planning how to recover David’s fortune from his Scrooge of an Uncle.

The famous dénouement is a classic case of entrapment and whilst I am fairly sure a smart modern lawyer could get the old man off, here at least, justice is done!

John Sweeney accompanied live with the piano cam allowing us to wonder even more about how he flexes the musical narrative and tone with such apparent ease; the sounds and the sights are bound together instantly in his hands.

David has troubled dreams
You can order copies of Fritzi’s Kidnapped DVD which comes with the main feature and the four shorts that accompanied the Conquest programme: Friends, Romans and Leo, Little Red Riding Hood (also based on a true story?), Quaint Provincetown and Microscopic Pond Life. Ben Model provides excellent accompaniment of his own and there’s a twelve-page booklet from Ms Kramer providing more details. It is an education and a joy! Links to retailers can be found on the Movies Silently site right here. 

Another superb live experience to lighten the locked-down load but if you missed it and or simply want to relive the show, it’s on the Bioscope’s YouTube channel.

Superb! Until the next time… PJ


Supplementary: The full title of the book is essentially a plot summary and a little like a pre-internet collection of key tags:  Kidnapped: Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751: How he was Kidnapped and Cast away; his Sufferings in a Desert Isle; his Journey in the Wild Highlands; his acquaintance with Alan Breck Stewart and other notorious Highland Jacobites; with all that he Suffered at the hands of his Uncle, Ebenezer Balfour of Shaws, falsely so-called: Written by Himself and now set forth by Robert Louis Stevenson.

It’s well worth seeking out by boys and girls of all ages and there’s even a sequel, Catriona, published in 1893 and featuring, women, unlike the film which has just one “Old Crone” and, as Fritzi pointed out, was sold on the basis of the “all-male” cast. How times were to change…

All Kidnapped screenshots lifted from the Kidnapped DVD. Buy it, buy it now!


Wednesday, 8 May 2019

Field of dreams... Hungarian Rhapsody (1928) with John Sweeney, Kennington Bioscope


Anyone expecting a silent biopic of Freddie Mercury would have been doubly disappointed tonight; one this wasn’t really a Bohemian affair (it’s the other side of Slovakia) and two, whilst Queen’s music is ideally suited to the silent format (except their early stuff…), John Sweeney had other, more impactful themes in mind, perhaps inspired, like the film, by Liszt as well as the gypsy spirit that informed the composer’s 19 Rhapsodies. John hadn’t seen the film but he was more than ready for it and when a party of soldiers shouts for a Csárdás dance, we get one and the pianist’s hands were a blur of masterful syncopation – all the notes in the right order, on the beat and always in service to the story. At the end there were whoops as well as an extended ovation for John, projectionist Dave Locke and this lovely film on super crisp 35mm.

Directed by Hanns Schwarz, Hungarian Rhapsody is a German film and thus fits perfectly and co-incidentally with the current Weimar Cinema strand over at the BFI and reinforces the breadth and variety of cinema from this time – second only to Hollywood in quantity and more than capable of equalling the quality.

Where there's wheat, there's a way: Dita and Willy make hay whilst the Sun shines.
Hungarian Rhapsody looks stunning, a symphony of wheat (just like Murnau’s brilliant City Girl which is on next at the Bioscope!) that paints a stunning picture of the Hungarian countryside and the farm work that can make an honest man of you. Carl Hoffmann’s camera seems to catch every blade of crop amongst the grandeur of vast fields and the visuals are as fluid as they are controlled. In one sequence, the camera pulls away from a humble fireside across the courtyard to a sophisticated soiree where the violin catching our heroine’s attention is being used to serenade the woman who will be her love rival: it’s a movement that references a sound we cannot hear and provides a warning for the love triangle to follow.

The camera was also more than a little in love with our three photogenic stars, Germanic John Gilbert, Willy Fritsch as Franz Lieutenant Graf v. Turoczy, Lil Dagover as Camilla, the General’s wife, and Dita Parlo as Marika, the kind of girl you’d like to work on a farm with or even a barge; she’s a natural, outdoor type.

Blimey, Lil's here!
Marika’s father Gutsverwalter Doczy (Fritz Greiner) is not at all convinced by her smiling lieutenant – he doesn’t have the wherewithal to provide for his daughter being, seemingly, a stuffed shirt: all rank with no riches. We’ve hit the halfway mark and the romance goes further on the rocks as Franz, repulsed now by Marika whose no one’s bit on the side, becomes enamoured with the stylishly sexy Camilla, a woman of the World who is also his commanding officer’s wife.

Initially he wants to make Marika jealous but he ends up falling under the spell of the unobtainable, foolishly enlisting the help of a violinist to serenade her. The fiddler has designs of his own and dobs his rival in it by calling the general who thunders across the countryside seeking retribution.

Yeah, but DITA!
It is a stylishly slight story and there’s a probably-propagandist feel to the dénouement – it’s not enough that the aristocratic soldier must pay respects to his true love he must also commit himself to a more honest life style in the fields. Well, who wouldn’t for Dita and, possibly, the Fatherland?

The film was a smash hit and was re-released with a soundtrack in 1929 making it one of Germany’s first sound films... a fine example of the other side of Weimar, not expressionist or darkly-unsettled but thorough entertainment.

For the first half tonight, there were four shorts all accompanied with Meg Morley; after recent accidents with accompaniment what a treat to hear these pros along with Mr Jonny Best at the BFI; there’s an art to silent music and these three have spent years perfecting it.

A spring in their step (really sorry)
Around Versailles (1909) was a quite lovely hand tinted travelogue showing the gardens at Versailles in as much glory as the technology of the time could muster; this was filled out regally by Meg’s classic lines and crescendos – this must have hit audiences with the full-force of Endgame in rural fairs and picture houses.

Little Moritz Épouse Rosalie (1911), starring Maurice/Moritz Scwartzwas madcap, breakneck and confusing! Moritz is eloping with his sweetheart and leaves a trail of devastation as he tries to escape for true love! Also answers the question of just how many people you can fit in a horse-drawn carriage: a fair few!



Watching Louis Feuillade’s Spring (1909) I started getting flashbacks to the previous evening’s screening of Opium, as nymphs danced in the French countryside in the manner of Robert Reinert’s drug-induced fairies…  still, spring had most definitely sprung.

Sémiramis (1910) provided the most dramatic of climaxes with the hand-colourful story of Babylon starring the statuesque Yvonne Mirval as the title character who loved, then killed a King before ruling through force of personality and elaborate shows in those famous hanging gardens. When she died after a glorious reign she literally ascends to Heaven borne by a host of doves and the walls of Babylon fall under attack from Arabian invaders… pretty much all eight series of Game of Thrones in 16 minutes; a bewildering array of tableaux on a screen barely able to contain Miss Napierkowska hair. Great fun; I’m a sucker for stencil colour and Ms Morley went to town on this one.



Yvonne Mirval as the Babylonian Beyonce