History, man... Le Giornate del Cinema Muto 43, Day Four

In my part of the media when we’re not slapping you in the face with a paywall or clogging your smart phone with “behaviourally targeted” advertising, we aim for engaging and valuable content. Today at the Giornate was a high-value one with so many films, long and so short you could call them photographs. In short, Peak Pordenone with surprise after surprise and a sense of incredulity about what we had just seen, that it even exists let alone a century down the line. Blessed are the archivists and the programmers, the projectionists and the people who help you down the stairs in the Teatro Verdi.

 

 

Moxov Qiz [The Leper] (1928) with Abror Zufarov and Sobirjon Tuyokov

 

I’m starting again in Uzbekistan with an outstanding film – the best of the strand so far – and a powerful tale about the treatment of women in parts of the Muslim community in the early days of the last century – thereby also highlighting the corruption of the Tsarist regime. This would not be the first touch with issues that remain of modern concerns on today’s programme.

 

Directed by Oleg Frelikh this was based on a treatment by Lolakhan Saifullina (who co-wrote The Second Wife) of a novel by French author Ferdinand Duchêne, a magistrate in Algeria, where he observed the struggle between traditional life and modernity. A young woman, Tyllia-Oi (Ra Messerer, who was also in The Second Wife) marries a wealthy merchant Said-Vali (Grigol Chechelashvili) and soon falls foul of his temper by wearing the Russian style of clothes he favours rather than traditional dress – “don’t forget you’re a Muslim…”.

 

The local Russian authorities are all in the deep pockets of her husband but he still has reason to fear officer Igor Karonin (Andrei Fait who was also in Battleship Potemkin (1925) and much more) who intercepts a message for help from Tyllia-Oi and uses it to blackmail her into sexual favours. He provides some measure of protection for her but after he is sent to a new station in Moscow, she shows too much emotion to her husband when he breaks the news and he uncovers her affair.

 

Ra Messerer

His retaliation is savage and, branded am adulteress and, even though her father makes a complaint about her abuse, the Russians are easily bought off and won’t go against the wishes of the religious court which finds her guilty under Sharia law. She must return to her father who must give Said-Vali a full refund on her dowry… but the highest price is paid in the disgrace and the woman must bear full responsibility.

 

Frelikh directs with subtlety and grace even with this most disheartening story and there are plenty of compositions showing the location and nature as well as the way of life. The transitions between shots are immaculate and the cinematography of Vladimir Dobrzhanskii is outstanding. There was certainly a propogandist agenda to this film but given the source material – based on experience of North Africa – this kind of story is entirely possible in the culture of the time. . Forgetting religion, how many women live like this still?

 

Any country would be proud to have this film as part of their cultural history and the accompaniment from Abror Zufarov and Sobirjon Tuyokov was at once so evocative of their country as well as in perfect tune with this sad and sobering film, one that deserves wider exposure and I hope it gets a screening in the UK soon.

 

The Land of Promise (1924) with José María Serralde Ruiz

 

Directed by Ya’acov Ben Dov, this was another film with propagandist purpose and a “straight” documentary covering the “repopulation” (words can’t be careful enough…) of the land of Palestine by Jewish settlers in the years up to 1924. The initial screening in the UK was followed by a lecture by Leonard Stein of the World Zionist Organization, who claimed that prior to the Balfour Declaration, “Palestine had become a desolate country... a miserable swamp.” (Daily Telegraph, 22^nd December 1924) and it’s one repeated in the film.

 

The arguments against and for this are there for all to research. The screening is a call to make ourselves better informed without rushing to judgement – this is what a trained historian is supposed to say. As a film it is very well made and not dissimilar to Russian works of the period in presenting the results of collaboration for the cause.

 

The accompaniment from José María Serralde Ruiz was well played by conveyed a level of anger that, for me, distracted from the viewing experience. It’s up to the viewers to be historical in their interpretation of this source material and the rights and wrongs of the document, the aims of Zionism and rights to land. If any film encapsulated the significance of cinema as a means of historical record then it’s this one.

 

And yes, Balfour has a lot to answer for but his government were shooting my great grandfather’s comrades in the streets of Liverpool a little over a decade before this during the Transport Strike.

 

Le Hugenot (1909) with Donald Sosin and Elizabeth-Jane Baldry

 

This short film will have been programmed to illustrate another key factor about the movement of people as Louis Feuillade’s short feature showed the religious persecution of the Huguenots in the 16^th Century including The St Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572 with modern estimates of the numbers killed ranging from 5-30,000. Whilst the film finishes in a call for peace before God, tens of thousands fled France for protestant countries such as England and via boat.

 

The Pride of the Clan (1917) with Donald Sosin and Elizabeth-Jane Baldry

 

It was time for some fun and to marvel again at the epic skillset of Mary the 1st here directed by the genius Maurice Tourneur. Mary is Marget MacTavish who takes over as Chieftain after her father drowns at sea. She’s about to marry Jamie Campbell (Matt Moore) and there’s some silliness with couples in the clan biting sixpence in half so they can hang it around each other’s necks – HG Wells should have sued! But it’s all in fun even when Jamie is revealed to be of noble birth and his birth mother tries to sweep him away to polite society.

 

Well, you know Mary, d’yea think she’ll allow that the noo?

 

Excellent locations from Tourneur create a genuinely Caledonian feel and Elizabeth-Jane’s harp added further Celtic magic along with Donald Sosin’s lines crashing like so many waves against the granite cliffs of this hitherto unknown southern Hebridean island. Great fun!

 

Folly of Vanity (1924), with Philip Carli

 

Once again we were left on a high with this inventive film about the early married life of Alice and Robert Farnsworth as played by the mighty Billie Dove and Jack Mulhall in the style of a proto-screwball comedy. They’ve never had an argument in, oh, six months or so of marriage until Alice buys some fake pearls and wants to go to a party hosted by Mr (John St. Polis) and Mrs Ridgeway (Betty Blythe with the vamp-ometer set to kill!). Mr R has a famous pearl collection and these parties have a reputation for being, louche…

 

They go, they row as Mrs R tries to tempt Robert as her Mr drops temptation round Alice’s neck with a pearl necklace so she can rekindle its lost lustre… There’s a floor show at the party that wouldn’t be out of place at the Moulin Rouge and the charm continues when the guests are invited to the Ridgeways yacht/ocean liner with the couple intent of achieving both their targets.

 

So far so pre-code and boy, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet as Alice falls overboard and into the wildest party in the undersea empire of Poseidon. Henry Otto directed this green-tinted gratuity and he directed the steamy heck out of it with more mermaids than there are stars in MGM and an eye-poppin’ amount of flesh on view. The fact that England’s finest, Maurice Elvey directed the other parts of the film makes this all the more shocking, mind you, he’d be filming in Blackpool a few years later for Hindle Wakes and, well, there’s stuff goes on there that also blows the mind!

 

Lulu McGrath

Also seen:

 

Pre-Cousteau underwater adventures including J. Ernest Williamson’s Wonders of the Sea (1922) which seemed to be mostly Lulu McGrath in a swimming costume floating past the coral and angel fish. Neil Brand accompanied in fine style, resolve of steel not to musically quote Yellow Submarine.

 

Columbian films including Garras de Oro (1927) which was essentially an astonishing attack on Teddy Roosevelt’s failed attempt to enable Panamanian separatists to put the canal in more controllable hands. Columbia wins and Uncle Sam takes a bloody nose. How often does this happen. More history and suitably learned accompaniment for this spy thriller from Stephen Horne.

 

Then we had Feminist Fragments 2. Queer Eyes, Loose Lips and Detachable Limbs which was another superb collection of rare Nasty Women grooves including pro-wrestling, Alice Guy’s Les Fredaines de Pierrette (1900) and films that generally showed a surprising amount of feminist feeling or nuanced non-hetero-normative expression. There was also Queen Lyda Borelli the 1^st as St Barbara the patron saint of explosives and she does exactly what it says on the pack of dynamite! Also, watch out for roller skates, they’re dangerous!

 

 

What's in the box Lyda?

 

PS I skipped Dreyer’s Leaves from Satan’s Book (DK 1920) and am of course sorry for that but I had a crisis in Croydon to deal with remotely. And no, that’s not code for something else…

 

 

 

Not missing out on Mary... Stella Maris (1918) with Meg Morley, Hippfest at Home ‘24

FOMOH… defined in Bo-ness as yon Fear of Missin’ Oot (On) Hippfest is high as I sit in South Cambridge 390 miles away from this year’s event but only inches away thanks to the streaming element of the festival, Hippfest at Home providing a sample pf the atmosphere and the cinematic treats being screened with accompanying piano-cam showing the players at work accompanying the silents and stirring the watcher’s hearts and minds.

Time flies and festivals fly even faster and there was, Alison Strauss the head of Clan Hippfest queuing up a vivacious introductory video from Pamela Hutchinson before introducing one of our finest accompanists, Meg Morley, who proceeded to enhance the extraordinary Stella Maris, one of Mary Pickford’s very best films and in which she gives Lon Chaney a run for his money playing two characters that look almost nothing alike.

She plastered her hair with Vaseline, smudged make up round her eyes to make them appear smaller, darkened her nostrils to make them wider and contorted her body to leave one shoulder higher and her back twisted... Pickford’s conviction and commitment to the roles is astonishing and , if you didn’t know she was both malnourished orphan Unity Blake and the titular bed-ridden privileged princess you’d struggle to recognise the most famous woman of the time…

The Mary we expect.

As Pam said, the dual roles gave Pickford a chance to draw on her impoverished, and abusive, past in deeper ways and with her great collaborator and a featured artist of this festival, Frances Marion scriptwriting, the two were able to create two unforgettable characters and to hint at real darkness. This is no Poor Little Rich Girl… Pickford was choosing her projects and her teams by this stage and this was a story she wanted to really challenge herself as well as the audience.

 

Based on the 1913 novel by William J. Locke, Stella Maris was directed by Marshall Neilan who Pickford compared the director favourably with DW Griffith, she always was a challenge, and felt that their shared Irish heritage helped him get the best out of her. As a result, this was the highest grossing film of 1918, on a level with say Barbie in tickets sold if not pink tinting and confused messaging. Stella Maris knows exactly what it wants to say about poverty and even the way wealthy women are treated by their so-called carers. By this stage Mary must have found much to identify with both her characters and that makes her choice of story all the more powerful and revealing.

 

Pickford is first seen as Miss Stella Maris a tragic young woman born into a wealthy family and yet in poor health: she cannot walk and is kept bedridden, well-protected from the horrors of outdoor life. She lives with her Aunt Julia Lady Eleanor Blount (Ida Waterman) and Uncle Sir Oliver Blount (Herbert Standing). Her favourite visitor is family friend, journalist John Risca (Conway Tearle) with whom she enjoys a fantasy existence of castles and kings. Interesting that she relies on a journalist to not tell her the truth…

The Mary we get.

But John has a darker home life with an alcoholic and abusive wife Louise (an excellent Marcia Manon, clearly having a whale of a time) whose numerous addictions are laid out for all to see: the wicked witch of this story. Listless Louise only ever gets passionate about punishment but is switched on enough to scour the local orphanage for home help in the form of the energetic but under-fed Unity Blake. Face and body posture twisted out of all proportion; Pickford must have suffered for this role in ways that only Chaney would appreciate.

 

Unity fails to meet her new mistresses exacting demands and is savagely beaten only being saved after neighbours here her screams. The police arrive and Louise is imprisoned for her assault. Wracked by guilt, John resolves to look after Unity and brings her into his house where she is looked after by his Aunt Gladys (Josephine Crowell). This upper-class generosity only extends so far though and they all resolve to keep Unity’s existence a secret from the enforced innocence of Stella. Here it is interesting that Stella’s innocence is prescribed by her relatives whilst Unity’s is seemingly just her natural state… in spite of all that she has been through.

Doctors gather to see Stella and decide that her legs can be restored through a new operation. The months pass and gradually she returns to full health. Inevitably she encounters Unity in a stunningly well realised double exposure: this is the tricky part - acting with yourself. By this stage it’s not Unity’s tale that threatens Stella’s fairy-tale world view but the world itself as she sees squads of soldiers marching past her huge garden and the questions keep on coming…

The film doesn't hold back from showing the desperation and brutality

Meanwhile, Louise is released for good behaviour and sets back to her recidivist ways aiming to ruin her estranged husband’s budding romance with the beautiful and unsullied Stella. Yet Unity has also developed feelings for her saviour… There’s a startling moment when she caresses John’s coat on a clothing stand, wrapping its sleeves around her and relishing the imagined intimacy, made almost real by the texture and the smell…

I won’t give away the ending but this is one you should see if you’re looking for Mary Pickford’s best films and if you haven’t already watched her tour de force. It's clearly one of her more political statements as well given the disparity between the two main characters and the disappointments of the rich woman discovering the nature of a world she has been deliberately isolated from. It's almost a fable of Pickford's own journey... she wants to be allowed to be both the woman she was and the successful star; with due respect to all on this spectrum of luck and life.

Meg Morley accompanied with a heart-breaking emotional narrative of her own which hit so many sweet and sour touch points in its intimate entanglement with the two Pickfords. Wonderful skill and sensitivity, I only wish I’d been there to hear it live. Next year no FOMOH!!

 

 

Rare Mary… Heart o' the Hills (1919), Kennington Bioscope with Colin Sell

I remember [Pickford] telling me that she couldn't bear the way [D. W. Griffith] directed adolescent girls. She said, "Oh, he directed them so they ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. And I would not do that sort of thing..." She already saw that naturalism was terribly important, even more than Griffith did. 

Kevin Brownlow

 

For the first time since the Pandemic, it was time to play Six Degrees of Kevin Brownlow and, as usual, the answer was two; Kevin had met and interviewed Mary Pickford on a number of occasions. This direct relationship with the “source material”, one of the major players, one of the three of four, who really made the cinema of Hollywood in the 1910s, predating even Kennington’s own Charlie and her husband Doug, even outshining her director on so many occasions, David Wark, distancing herself in a way Lillian didn’t as she set up her own production company in 1918 and took charge of her intellectual property as well as her career.

 

Kevin’s introduction focused on fellow film collector Bert Langdon and his own meetings with Heart o' the Hills’ cinematographer, Londoner Charles Rosher, who shot all of Pickford’s films from 1918 to 1927, became the first cameraman to win an Oscar for Sunrise and grabbed a second for The Yearling (1946). Kevin’s friend was able to screen his original 35m nitrate original not just of this film but also My Best Girl (1927) neither of which Rosher had seen in years.

 

Heart o' the Hills impressed Kevin in terms of its technique but also Pickford’s range; “characters no sooner look at each other, than they exchange blows…” The hillbilly dance is “a classic sequence” featuring the ethnic authenticity director Sidney Franklin was looking for. Kevin also singled out art director Max Parker for his creation of the backwoods locations and living spaces; as he says, there was nothing “cutsie” or sentimental about this endeavour and the producer herself also has to take great credit for that… Kevin concluded by saying: If anyone needs to be converted to Pickford, this picture should do the trick!

 

Pickford's character shows her scars from maternal beatings...

I suspect Kevin was preaching to the already converted but this is indeed a wonderfully spirited film and one that treats its audience with respect, another key element of Pickford’s approach. After all, she was a working-class women just like most of her audience, her agenda was to deliver the kind of stories they understood and morality they would agree with in a tough environment they would recognise. We don’t talk enough about silent film stars and class, except to note that they “escaped”, but I don’t think Mary, or Charlie and many others, pulled the ladder up.

 

Here Mary is Mavis, who’s father was shot in the back when she was young and whose mother Martha (Claire McDowell) has been worn down over time, fighting to keep going in their ram shackled homestead. Her best pal is young Jason Honeycutt (Harold Goodwin) who takes her out on fishing trips – some worms were sadly harmed in the making of this film – and other larks.

 

Jason’s father Steve (Sam De Grasse) is the opposite of fun and, as we quickly learn, many other things including honesty, fairness and virtue. He’s hard on his boy and Mavis while targeting Martha, her hand and, her land which, as Mavis shows Jason, is rich in coal, surprising for such an elevated location but there you go.

Hootenanny show-down! John Gilbert on the left.

Money comes to town in the form of “forrigns” Colonel Pendleton (W.H. Bainbridge) and his entourage including son Gray (a surprise appearance by young John Gilbert, just 22 here and on the brink of stardom) and his intended Marjorie Lee (Betty Bouton). Also with them is the scheming Morton Sanders (Henry Hebert) who is plotting with Steve Honeycutt to grab Martha’s land and swindle as much of the community as possible.

 

There’s a great confrontation between the two at the local hop, where Gray, who has caught the eye of Mavis and vice-versa, joins the dance only for Jason to try and out-manoeuvre him in a kind of strictly-come-country dance-off. In the end Mavis joins in and a proper scrap is narrowly averted.

Soon though she has worse to come as Steve pushes Martha to marry him and orders her to leave home. She takes her issue to the locals, led by her wise Granpap Jason Hawn (Fred Huntley) and they decide that dressing up in white hoods and costumes to confront the land-grabbers is the way to resolve this. 

Don't mess with Mary...

Now I’m not sure why it is that certain Americans like wearing their sheets in this way but I’m also not convinced it’s a Ku Klux Klan moment – although it might well be. It ends badly though as someone shoots Sanders and, of course, given motive, opportunity and her outspokenness, Mavis is soon standing trial accused of his murder.

 

As Kevin Brownlow points out, this film doesn’t pull its punches and the stakes are high. Mavis’ character also stays true to herself and the resolution is worth the wait. It’s an entertaining film with that mix of humour and grit our great grand parents knew and loved to see on screen. Pickford is mighty as you’d expect and Rosher packs as many glorious head shots in as possible as we watch her unconscious naturalism lead the emotional charge!

 

We were watching a 35mm print made from an original copy at the Mary Pickford Foundation and it was full of rich textures and stunning depth of field. This is one of the real pleasures of the Bioscope, the connection between the audience, the celluloid and the general ambience of this unique venue. The atmospherics are also heavily informed by the subtlety of the accompanist and in this case it was Colin Sell who not only as Kevin predicted, showed his powers of controlled syncopation for the dancing sequence but also played along so sympathetically with Pickford and the rest of the players.

 

The British version of the sheet music

We were also treated to a wonderful performance of the song released to accompany the film from Colin and the Bioscope’s MC Michelle Facey. On BBC programmes you sometimes witness “experimental” archaeologists attempting to recreate certain processes to illustrate and find out more about the techniques and the “taste” of the period. The Bioscope is a working example of this experimentalism and Facey and Sell recreated another key element of the spirit of this film and the emotional reaction this song would have brought. Glenn Mitchell had a copy of both the US and UK version of the sheet music and naturally we went with the British copy. Loveliness ensued… and the film was set up!

 

Early Mary…

 

White Roses (1910) directed by Frank Powell was screened first on a 16mm from Chris Bird’s collection and, whilst its plot was a little outlandish, it was all good fun with Mary’s character Betty for some reason in love with a very shy man called Harry (Edward Dillon). Harry hasn’t the courage to ask her directly so her arranges to send three colours of flowers to her and a note saying that she should wear red for yes and white for no… Sounds simple but he gives the task to a young lad (Jack Pickfor, who’s other sister, Lottie is also involved), who promptly gets robbed of note and flowers.

 

A well meaning man steps into help and buys replacements but there’s no note and so Betty wears white forcing Harry to propose to his cook in retaliation… That’s not the end of things but you really have to watch this to believe it! John Sweeney accompanied and suspended all our disbelief in the process.

Mary and Elmer wait for the law...

The Narrow Road (1912) directed by D. W. Griffith on rare and possibly singular* 16mm print made from a nitrate original by legendary collector John Cunningham, now from Chris Bird’s collection, the film is only otherwise preserved in the Library of Congress paper-print collection as a paper copy of the celluloid made for copyright purposes. It was another of the unique Bioscope occasions, watching Mary married to ex-convict played by the great Elmer Booth, who is torn between going straight at a wood merchants and his loyalty to fellow con and recidivist forger, Charles Hill Mailes.

 

Ashley Valentine accompanied with lovely lines and in tune with this short but powerful tale. As Michelle said in her introduction, some say DW was at his best for these Biograph shorts and on the evidence of this and others, I’d have to agree but part of that is down to the contribution of players like Pickford who would eventually fall out with him and others, such as Booth who would die tragically early in a car, driven by an inebriated Tod Browning.

 

 

 *According to Movies Silently, the film is featured on the Image Entertainment, Origins of Film DVD set, now deleted. This may come from another source although it doesn't - as featured above - look like anything like as clear as what we saw.

 

Smile… Kennington Bioscope Silent Laughter Weekend 2022, Day One, Cinema Museum

 

Sitting in the Cinema Museum, it’s like we’ve never been away and yet… those communal laughs feel fresher, the films more visceral and the accompaniment, richer and more poignant than ever. There were tears as well as laughter and a fulsome amount of surprises… reputations restored to living memory as well as reanimated shadows on screen. A reminder also that even films you are familiar with carry additional weight when viewed on the big screen with an audience and with live accompaniment.

 

Buddy and Mary

My Best Girl (1927) with Costas Fotopoulos

Mary Pickford’s last silent film, My Best Girl, is also one of her best and, famously, features her romancing future husband Charles “Buddy” Rogers. It’s romantic comedy of the highest order, pulling at the heartstrings as one of the masters of cinema runs through her gears form slapstick to the most intensely dramatic closing sequence that, as I fully expected, brought a tear to my eye. Can you see Mary falling in love with Buddy during this film? Maybe… but it was also her day job and to see her in her mid-thirties, playing her age, is a delight.

My Best Girl’s cinematographer was Charles Rosher who deservedly received an Academy Award nomination for his cinematography, he lost it for this but won it for Sunrise and, there were moments such as the opening montage and the emotional scenes amongst the traffic when you were reminded of the earlier film.

Costas Fotopoulos provided spirited accompaniment of his own tapping into rich romantic and dramatic themes as well as tripping the comedy lightly and fantastically through the pots and pans, family rows and cultural clashes as the poor little shop girl wins the heart of the poor big rich boy. Peak Bioscope!!

Walter and the runaway tank... plus two pigs.

 

Would You Believe it? (1929) with Lillian Henley

Walter Forde’s last silent film is packed with inventive routines: a baby and a doll mix up in the toy store, serving up toy soldiers just like chips on newspaper with oil for gravy and trying to wrap balloons in brown paper for a bespectacled Rees-Mogg-esque junior toff. Forde’s an inventor, he’s not sure what of, but it seems to work until it blows his landlord’s house up. He gets a job in a toy shop and meets a rather attractive young woman Pauline (Pauline Johnson) who just happens to work for the War Office, he invites her for dinner cooked by his uppity roommate, Cuthbert (Arthur Stratton) who, in a constant battle of wills, refuses to act the role of his butler.

Walter’s invention of a remote-control tank could be a game-changer but a group of spies finds out and set’s off to stop him demonstrating the kit to the Minister for War. Their leader is modelled on a similar mastermind in Fritz Land’s Spies and sits at a huge desk, pushing buttons for everything he needs, drinks, photographs, cigarette and lighters… the first but not last time, I was reminded of Wallace and Gromit on the day’s programme.

A super spy and his target

There’s a very funny bit of business on the Underground as the baddies chase Walter up lifts and down emergency spiral staircases in scenes reminiscent of Keaton in The Cameraman and elsewhere. The gags are mostly good and Forde controls events enough to not interrupt the broader narrative.

He gets his chance to demo for the Minister but the enemy agents kidnap him and Pauline, and, as Walter pushes his pal Cuthbert too far, the real-life tank runs amok to comic effect. The filmmakers were clearly delighted to get the loan of kit and crew and it shows with crushed cars, walls and buildings to show for it.

Forde later went on to direct the legendary Arthur Askey in The Ghost Train, his sense of comic timing and seamless story advancement was to stand him in good stead in his long career behind the camera.

 

Rediscovering Roscoe with Steve Massa and Lillian Henley

The second programme was a video essay from film historian Steve Massa who gave an overview of the unfairly maligned Roscoe ‘Fatty’ Arbuckle based on his recent book. Roscoe was an exceptional talent who understood cinematic comedy better than most using his expressive wit, supernatural timing and extraordinary athleticism to become one of the leading players in the 1910s. Steve discussed numerous examples of Roscoe’s comic invention, quick fire physical comedy which exhibited his grace and timing and his ability to fall headfirst and backwards in a 180-degree flop.

Roscoe enjoyed a successful run of seventeen films with Mabel Normand at Keystone and worked with Chaplin, Lloyd and his nephew, Al St John before setting up his own production company, Comique Film Corporation, with Joseph Shenk (Mr Norma Talmadge) in 1917. Steve showed a clip from the company’s first film, The Butcher Boy (1917) which also introduced a young vaudeville performer by the name of Keaton.

Of course, Roscoe’s life was turned upside down by his unjust prosecution for the death of Virginia Rappe, but even before he was completely exonerated, he carried on working with Buster in Sherlock Jr and other films. He stayed active and made a successful series of shorts in the early thirties that as Steve said, left his life on the up…

There was a full screening for His Wife’s Mistake (1916), one of Arbuckle’s best starring shorts, with Al St John. There was swinging piano accompaniment from Lillian Henley who caught the mood as always and syncopated perfectly with the pandemonium on screen.

 

Almost Lost Laughs… Charley’s Bowers and Chase plus EE Horton, Meg Morley

 

Charlie Bowers' house...

Many a Slip (1927) The Non-slip Banana

This was the inventive Charley Bowers at his most surreal, struggling to invent a non–slip banana peel at the behest of a potential rich benefactor. As with Walter Forde, Bowers is an inventor in search of a cause and he finds it when offered the seemingly impossible task of removing that staple slippiness from Slapstick’s most valuable fruit.

This being Bowers, the cause of the slippiness was not the texture of the skin but tiny bugs only viewable through one of his “Pat Pending” tele-microscopes. Cue a series of Bower’s amazing stop-motion animations along with repeated efforts to go the long way round in order to test the solution. As Matthew Rose, who runs The Lost Laugh digital magazine and website, pointed out Bowers may not have been the best comedic performer but he was an extraordinary animator and film director. Many a Slip is great fun and it’s good news that more of Bowers’ work is being found and released on home media by Lobster Films.

There’s an article on Charley from Matthew on his site here.

 

Stan is the best lawyer Charley can afford...

Now I’ll Tell One (1927) when Ollie met Stan and Charley

Before they were officially a team, Laurel and Hardy feature in a few films together including this one, which features more of the former as Charley Chase’s lawyer in an outlandish divorce case. Charley’s wife is played by Edna Marion who accuses him of all kinds of outrageous crimes against her, including having shot her dead. Quick as a flash Stan the Lawyer asks how this could be given that she is still alive, only to provide her with an unlikely explanation; “perhaps the bullet hit a bible you kept over your heart. It’s typical Chase, fast paced, comedically vindictive and stylishly silly. In addition to being a legal loose cannon, Stan also dismantles clocks and watches… and I still don’t know why. Every lawyer needs a hobby.

Horton hopes for a honeymoon?

 

Dad’s Choice (1928)

Edward Everett Horton (forgotten until recently as a silent star) made a series of highly polished two reelers at the end of the silent period before establishing himself in talkies for the next two decades. He’s another class act and plays it earnestly deadpan through this comedy of manners, as he tries to elope with his sweetheart (Sharon Lynn) whose father (Otis Harlan) certainly does not approve of the match. There’s a lovely confusion between Charlie and his girl’s mother (Josephine Crowell) who keeps on been presented with accidental winks and other signals that she’s the one he’s after.

It's very polished and Horton shows all the comic calm that made him a staple of such later classics as Top Hat, Arsenic and Old Lace and The Ghost Goes Wild. Again, there’s a set of his comedies out on Blu-ray this time from Ben Model’s Undercrank Productions - link here!

 

Meg Morley accompanied all three films in slightly different styles, responding with an effortless range of themes and tempos to suit the rhythms of the comedy on screen. A jazz player perfectly suited to the jazzed action on screen.

 

Unfortunately, I was then called away by a prior appointment at the Royal Albert Hall and so I missed the Harry Langdon in Frank Capra’s The Strong Man (1926) – his first film as director - with more Meg and then the headlining Harold Lloyd in Safety Last! (1923) accompanied by John Sweeney.  One of the all-time classics of silent comedy and the Fourth Musketeer of twenties male comedians. I’ve seen the Lloyd film and will catch up with the other Harry later on… he made some great films with Capra writing including Tramp, Tramp, Tramp (1926) with Joan Crawford, and was on a roll to rival even the Big Three… the more the merrier.

 

Good to have the laughter days back at the Bioscope and, as the Cinema Museum’s future now looks assured in Kennington, here’s to many more!

 

AND, this is why bananas are so slippy...

And why mice truly are the smartest species on Earth... Charley Bowers was there first!

Cultural exchange… A Kiss from Mary Pickford (1927), with John Sweeney, 10th Hippodrome Silent Film Festival

 

Why aren’t you a star?

 

As plans go, Sergei Komarov’s was pretty good and it says something that the writer/director’s game was – according to some - only fully up some years later when someone handed his titular star a copy of this film in the 40’s or 70’s depending on your source. Either way, I’ve no idea what Mary Pickford thought of the finished film, I’d hope it would have brought back some very happy memories of her time in Europe with Douglas Fairbanks and also that it would remind her how absolutely loved she was by millions. It would have made her laugh no doubt and at her own expense and the sheer ludicrous nature of the fame she experienced in a uniquely successful way in over twenty years of filmmaking and beyond.

 

In 1926 Mary and Douglas came to Moscow as part of a grand European tour and seeing how rapturously they were greeted, how fetishized they were as something beyond ordinary humanity, Komarov devised a means of using this to both shine a light on the nature of this ultra-fame and to lampoon it. He had no special access to Pickford and Fairbanks just a collection of newsreels and one crucial sequence in which Mary agreed to perform a short skit with Igor Ilyinsky at the end of which she kisses him on the cheek; the moment which makes this film transcend its sources, from meta to better.

 

As a standalone comedy, A Kiss from Mary Pickford works as a kind of Russia cousin of the lost Merton of the Movies or Souls for Sale, Show People and so many films that are about films. Its humour is slapstick and pointedly surreal, revelling in the magic whilst at the same time making vicious fun of Pickfair mania and the need to not just see stars but to own anything connected to them, a kind of amoral materialism reflective of  the current state of capitalist decline... 

Igor Ilyinsky takes it all in

It begins with our hero, Goga Palkin (Ilyinsky), a ticket collector at a cinema, being rejected by his “actress” girlfriend, Dusya Galkina (the striking Anel Sudakevich) for not being able to hold a candle to her hero, Douglas Fairbanks. Come back to me when you’re a star she demands unreasonably, not revealing the auditions she herself failed that morning. Their quarrel comes after watching Zorro – itself a reminder of Valentino’s The Eagle, screened earlier in the festival – and Goga makes plaintive Fairbanks faces, as he wonders how he can possibly compare.

 

Luckily, even Soviet Moscow has an industry prepared to train would be film stars and Goga enlists on a programme to test his suitability to be a star. This course is perhaps unnecessarily rigorous as the latest reject is hauled out unconscious by an aggressive looking man. Stardom is clearly not for everyone and clearly makes demands that the average citizen finds hard to bear… Then he appears before three white coated old men who, naturally, get him to stand under a cold shower in a swimming costume. He pulls out the picture of his love to remind himself why this ordeal will be worth it and then strikes an exhausted Fairbanks pose and smile… is that all there is?

 

He passes the first test perfectly although he’s only just keeping it together… then he’s spun around until he disappears, the men worry he may have been disintegrated and then he has to stand on his head for long minutes – he cheats by putting his shoes on his hands. The result? A pass with flying colours – Genuine Certification of Cinematic Ability (Stunts)… Russia’s Buster Keaton is born… or is he?

 

One for Zorro, Anel Sudakevich

The pace is unrelenting and there’s some excellent funny business with the glass of water Goga slips into his pocket… he forgets and sits down only to realise that there’s water running down his leg. For a few horrible moments he relives childhood torment.

 

Soon Goga wanders onto his first film set which, conveniently enough, seems to be situated right next to the cinema. There is a superb overhead shot of a studio at work, with two separate scenes being filmed, the actors dwarfed by the scenery and the technology. The studio was Mezhrabpom-Rus, now the Gorky Film Studio, where over 20 films, including Aelita, Queen of Mars were shot.

 

Goga looks dumb enough to do stunt work and so it transpires as he’s hefted high up to the rafters for an especially dangerous stunt, promptly falling asleep 100 feet in the air after the cast and crew below are distracted by the imminent arrival of two American superstars…

 

What if we make a Russian Harry Piel out of him?

 

Show people at the Mezhrabpom-Rus

The producers decide that Goga is a natural comic and that they can make him into “a Russian Harry Piel”. Who’s that, I hear you cry – me too – well, Harry was a hugely successful comic actor and director who made over a hundred films, 72 of which were lost, including most of his silent, in an allied air raid during the war. He joined the Nazi Party in 1933 and paid the price with post-war imprisonment never recovering his popularity. He was known for his explosive comic style and for allegedly doing all his own stunts (spoiler: he didn’t) but would have been closer to the dafter version of early Keaton/Chaplin that Ilyinsky presents here.

 

Mary and Doug arrive and within the film, even watching now, there’s a thrill in seeing such candid shots of them. Mary’s beautiful smile is if anything more marked than on screen whilst suntanned Doug looks as fit as a butcher’s dog as the saying used to go in Stalingrad… Star power shines out as they wave from a train window, from their hotel and as they arrive as the film studios. I’m reminded of the time when Doug had to carry his wife on his shoulders among one crush in London on their honeymoon, even though they are protected, they feel much closer to the crowds than you’d expect; reality about to crash their fragile fame.

 

But Goga walks into the reception and is only concerned about seeing his love who is far too intent on viewing the royal couple to pay him any heed. Dusya has been one of a group pursuing the Americans with wide-eyed fanaticism, moving forward en masse like a plague of cineaste zombies; the undead, avoiding the light and staring, always staring, in search of a screen…

 

Douglas and Mary

When it comes to love scenes, I’m always ready.

 

Who is that funny little man? Asks Miss Pickford, clearly with an eye for style. The studio execs ask him to do his stunt for her but he hides in fear of falling only to reveal himself when Miss Pickford asks if she can do a love scene with him instead. After seeing only, the fiction and the newsreel footage it is indeed as surprise to see the two actors together and it must have caused a sensation in Russia. If Mary wanted to show her support for Russian film it worked.

  

And how it works in the film too as Goga himself becomes a superstar with eager fans chasing him everywhere for just a strip of shirt or grab from his wig. It’s like George Harrison running from fans in A Hard Day’s Night or, more pointedly, David Hemmings fighting for Jeff Beck’s guitar in the 100 Club in Antonioni’s Blow Up; you maybe saw it here first Michelangelo? Is Goga now too good for Dusya or will he get over himself and his legions of fans?

 

As Steven Morrissey once said: Fame, fame, fatal fame, It can play hideous tricks on the brain…

 

John Sweeney provided accompaniment and delighted in every comedic twist and turn in this joyful film that is as much a celebration of the Muscovite sense of humour as its cinema. John tracked the full range with accompaniment that was as in tune with Sergei Komarov’s larger purpose as it was Ilyinsky’s every gurn and pratfall. It is, as John said in his introduction, the kind of film you fall for… one that is largely unseen but is further evidence of the strength of Russian comedy and cinematic ideas during the Twenties.

John Sweeney on piano cam!

 

Mary and Doug also met with Sergei Eisenstein on their Moscow trip having helped get his Battleship Potyomkin released in the US. Fluent in English, Eisenstein took them on a tour of the city and gave them its history cinematically and otherwise. Mary’s kiss was her contribution to a film industry that fascinated them and which they hoped to encourage; a glimpse of the contemporary view of fellow creatives at a time when the Soviet project was very much in the balance.

 

You can still catch the weekend programme via the Hippfest site and Q&As are on the Falkirk Community Trust YouTube channel.

 

You can still catch up on the weekend programme until tomorrow so better be quick, especially for Louise Brooks in a restored silent Prix De Beauté (1930) with Stephen Horne score, Marlene in The Woman Men Yearn For (1929) and Mary Pickford in the above film and the brilliant southern gothic of Sparrows (1926).

 

It’s been a joy and I look forward to attending next year’s festival in person!

 

 

 

 

Mary, Lottie and Jack… Fanchon the Cricket (1915), Flicker Alley Blu-ray/DVD

It’s 1915 and we’re approaching peak Pickford in the second of eight feature films she made in the year of her old mucker DW’s Birth and one of six to be directed by James Kirkwood with scenarios from Mary’s pal Frances Marion also in the majority. Pickford was not yet in full command of the means of production as Cari Beauchamp notes in the Flicker Alley booklet, but she was fiercely protective of her career and determined to put in a typecast-proof performance as the wildcat “waif” that – now – we view as exemplary.

 

Fanchon provides an abundance of opportunities for Mary to demonstrate her winning ways and to explode out of the screen against the gorgeous backdrops of Delaware Gap, Pennsylvania. Some have criticised Kirkwood’s pacing but he certainly knew how to make the most out of his friend Mary; just pick the right location and let her roll. So many times, Mary demonstrates her extraordinary energy with her bodily ability to express emotion standing out amongst the dense woodland, against river and lake and a cast who are quite unable to draw the eye away from her.

 

Mary Pickford sits on the fence

Beauchamp describes the waif as an “inspirational” character in amongst a contemporary cinematic universe of matrons, vamps and adventuresses; “… there is a modernity to the waif with her backbone of steel as she stands up against hypocrisy, bullies and entitlement.” Watching with my Gen-Z daughter she would agree and it’s striking that such characters were on screen for the majority of cinema goers who were women yet to gain the vote.

 

Mary’s Fanchon is girlish but knowing and she knows what she wants in her man; someone who choses to love her and who is steadfast; she takes charge of her romantic situation and having worked her opportunity, expects the men to be honourable. If not… she’ll go her own way. She, genuinely, does not need a man to define herself and – according to our count – Fanchon passes the Bechdel test on a number of occasions.

 

Frank Standing and Lotte Pickford

Set in Eighteenth Century France and based on George Sand’s novel La Petite Fadette, the narrative is fairly light for first half of the film before fitting in – some – of the source material’s complexities. That strikes me as good work from Frances Marion (and Kirkwood) which allows the focus to be on Fanchon the free spirit and her pursuit of Jack Standing’s Landry Barbeau. Landry is from a family of good standing while Fanchon lives in a woodland hut with her grandmother (Gertrude Norman) who’s old and wizened enough to be regarded as a witch.

 

Fanchon’s problem – apart from lack of contemporary fashions – is that Landry is seeing a more respectable women called Madelon played by Lottie Pickford. Lottie was her sister’s junior by one year and, on this display, not in the same league as an actress (who was?) but she does a decent job as the spoilt brat determined to hold on to her man as much for pride as anything else. There’s also a cameo from Jack Pickford as a local bully who Mary has to fight in scenes that surely must have taken place in the family home in Toronto.

 

Jack vs Mary

Jack picks on Landry’s brother Didier (Richard Lee) who is described as a “half-wit”. It is interesting to see how films from this period treat mentally disabled characters and whilst Didier is a sympathetic character, the only one who treats him as an equal is Fanchon with the local youngsters tiring of him and chasing him away when it suits and his father (Russell Bassett) pushes him around. Are we supposed to see Didier and Fanchon as similarly outcast, he for neurodiversity and she for outrageous independence and “poor” blood? That’s maybe a stretch but why not?

 

 

Cinematography is from Edward Wynard and there are breath-taking shots of the locations – most of the action is outside adding a string sense of place to the action – as well as the lead. Kevin Brownlow is not the only one to have pointed to the visceral impact of Mary Pickford in this film; her hair is as long as I’ve ever seen it and sometimes forms a sunlit halo over her supercharged features and she’s definitely not the “the girl with the curls” but someone wiser and more artful.  Even with a dearth of clos-ups, the actress conveys an emotional impact few could hope to match and here it’s so very natural. How many scenes are just made up of her reacting to events off screen in well-chosen locations or amusing herself by playing with her shadow or just skipping with arms aloft, powerfully pantomiming joy and resilience.

 

The locals don't know what to make of Fanchon

Gradually the story solidifies as Fanchon starts to impress Landry, as someone with more spirit than Madelon but he must overcome not just his own doubts but the approbation of their peers and his own father. The gap between them seems too large to cross but Fanchon is nothing if not irrepressible but she’s also totally honest; she wants happiness on her own terms…

 

Fanchon is the only film to feature all three siblings and it’s very sad that at the time of her death, Mary thought it was lost. The Mary Pickford Foundation found a nitrate duplicate at Le Cinémathèque Française and combining this with an incomplete nitrate print at the BFI, a multi-national effort led to this crystal-clear restoration.

 

The MPF commissioned a new score in modern style from Julian Ducatenzeiler and Andy Gladbach which moves along very well with the film if occasionally foreshadowing the emotional journey. We enjoyed it, it’s upbeat and inventive and has the spirit of Pickford’s character. Those looking for organ or piano traditionalism may not agree but as a package this is a fun film and a side of Pickford we really need to see more of.

 

The Flicker Alley set is available direct from their site and really does the MPF proud in making available more of the work that explains her status as one of the founders of cinematic acting and one of the first superstars.