Futility… Le Giornate del Cinema Muto Day Five

 

In the rush to fall over each other’s opinions we forget that there can be no winners in a war of words or of bombs. In the battle to persuade, we hurl our arguments across the internet like ordnance from a 4.5 inch Howitzer and yet, whilst the enemy’s lines may be pockmarked with damage, their response only gains in ferocity with the momentum of the attack. It is quiet something to bring a silence to this discourse and to give us all pause for thought, to defuse the fatuous mechanics of action and reaction but that’s exactly what both the late-night films today did for me. They did so in different and equally powerful ways.

The most effective statements are often the ones that simply let you work out the message yourself… not in an abstract way like the Belgian avant-garde cinema of Tuesday – but in the force of images and or music that show a truth we might never have seen conveyed in a moving image before. If the original aim of the Ukrainian/Soviet propaganda we’ve seen this week, as well as tonight’s British propaganda, was to create a specific response in the audience, the musical context of both scores held us away from that original intent and gave us that pause and somewhere between thought and expression lies the truth. Not surprisingly some of us were a little short on words for a while...

Palestine - A Revised Narrative (LB, 2024)

Cynthia Zaven’s sparse electronica and piano accompaniment for her compilation of Imperial War Museum clips of Palestine during the Great War enabled a presentation of documents devoid of polemic. She turned British propaganda into a neutral statement that simply reminded us that one of the World’s most intractable problems was different before 1917. In the clips we see Gaza, Jaffa, lush farmlands and seafront towns, there’s Nazareth, Bethlehem and a Jerusalem in which Muslims, Jews and Christians intermingle, going about their daily lives – talking together and worshipping their God with his common roots. Clearly not everything is perfect – the Commonwealth forces have just pushed the Turkish forces out of the area, it’s a warzone.

What happened next is of course where the real debate starts and were further reading is essential. The Balfour Declaration and the decisions of a flawed British regime with a romanticised view of The Holy Land played their part but as a historian I must advise caution and cross-referencing: for myself and everyone else, we must investigate not reach for simple conclusions. As a starter, I would heartily recommend three episodes of the Empire podcast with William Dalrymple and Anita Anand which cover the Arab Revolt (Lawrence of Arabia) and the Sykes-Picot agreement to “carve up” the countries of the middle east. All of these were recorded in 2023 before the current war but main essential as History doesn’t change based on what is happening now does it? It helps us understand why what is happening … and silent film is both history as primary sources and secondary interpretations.

The German Retreat and Battle of Arras (GB 1917), Laura Rossi

Made when the Great War looked like it might be winnable and has a propagandist purpose beyond earlier films in showing the changed momentum of the conflict to those back home. It is also historically significant for the events it memorialises, the techniques it uses to do this and its intent.. Geoffrey H. Malins was director of photography as he had been for the two Somme films but even though the first was certainly ground-breaking and a phenomenon, Arras doesn’t carry the sense of excitement ad revelation possibly because the enemy was in retreat and more of a known quantity. It’s still a great technical achievement and awe-inspiring in the greater context but it didn’t feel triumphant, more grimly determined to help complete the job.

Laura Rossi has scored for the other films and was on hand to hear her new composition played in the Teatro Verdi by the Orchestra di Pordenone & Coro del Fruili as conducted by Andrej Goričar. Le Giornate is always the warmest of homes for international collaboration! Rossi’s music acted as with Zaven’s compilation and composition in allowing us to really see the film, devoid of any contextualisation that was connected to the original intent or and deliberate contemporary re-contextualisation. She allowed us a bit of both but underscoring the documentation on display to allow our own interpretation – a most historical musical agenda, incredible effective and created.

Elements of poetry and songs of the period, from all sides, were used as connective themes but also providing contrapuntal lines to neutralise more pointed segments. There was more ground to cover than in the Palestinian film given this was a complete creation of the time, but it enabled us that more conscious consumption of the film than might otherwise have been possible.

A sobering and to the day and brilliant work from all concerned.

Meanwhile, back in the Land of Fiction…

Following on from the top… There’s so much “debate” in the UK right now about “our” “national culture” and surely the fact that Betty Balfour was termed Britain’s Queen of Happiness highlights “our” ability to put fun before fear and jokes at our own expense ahead of others. Anyone who forgets this, is nowhere near as British as they believe themselves to be. Betty doesn’t need a flag, she needs silk clothes, fizzy wine and a good time, but she’s also kind and is an equal opportunities irritator!

Betty featured in Syd Chaplin’s A Little Bit of Fluff (1928) which was presented in gorgeous-looking 35mm and featured a host of GB good ‘uns, including arguably the third-best looking McLaglen, Clifford as Betty’s boxing boyfriend Henry “One Round” Hudson, Nancy Rigg as Syd’s wife and Edmund Breon as his mate John. It’s a hoot with near-Hollywood production values and a remarkably high gag rate. Syd’s very much his own Chaplin but he does have the speed of thought and instincts of his brother as well as that most comedically crucial quality: timing!

Syd loves his wife but less so her Aunt Agatha – the brilliant Annie Esmond - who even after two weeks of wedded “bliss” is pushing him around. As the girls go off to see Agatha’s sister, Syd gets persuaded to go out by John and the wheels start to come off for the entirety of the rest of the film.

It’s fast and furious but remember this even if you forget everything else: a small dog may be used to lick stamps if held at the correct angle and provided with the right incentives> I shall take this lesson forward.

   

Accompaniment was from dog-loving Donald Sosin and cool cat Frank Bockius on the sticks (just don’t throw them for the dogs…)

 

Quick-fire round...

 

Danza Serpentina (US? FR?, 1896-1905?) – who can resist this dance, especially colourised? The images are also being projected on the Teatro Verdi and in one of the squares.

L’Innamorata (IT 1920) with Stephen Horne

Time for some more Italia Almirante Manzini and this starts with a pure visual Diva power play as the man waiting to see her has to await her full preparation and we see her in close-up glimpses, lipstick being finished, hair checked, full-glam eye-shadow… before she is revealed in her full glory.

Sadly, this film doesn’t quite support her in the way that Zingari (1920) did and has a lumpy plot not helped by missing sections but with Stephen Horne to fill the experience with fulsome flourishes and expert under-scoring it was inevitably entertaining!

 

Die Dame mit der Maske (DE 1928) Günter Buchwald, Frank Bockius

When a young socialite has to undertake work as an exotic dancer to convince her father that his books are still being published, she has no option but to wear a mask as she shows far more flesh than she would prefer.

A good cast – including dynamo Dita Parlo – and some fine set pieces are let down by a slightly wayward narrative in which some characters are inactive when really they could save the day with more gumption. Apparently a number of different endings we filmed and you could see anyone of them working… a reflection of the lack of internal logic and depth behind the main characters and their motivation perhaps?

Günter Buchwald and Frank Bockius are on fire this week and their mix of classical, folk and jazz served this Weimar treat very well!

 

Louis, Musidora & Léontine with Meg Morley

Another clutch of excellent Louis Feuillade shorts including L’HOMME AIMANTÉ (Un Monsieur aimanté) (FR 1907), LYSISTRATA OU LA GRÈVE DES BAISERS (FR 1910) and LAGOURDETTE GENTLEMAN CAMBRIOLEUR (FR 1916).

This last was my favourite and featured a reunion of the three key cast members of Les Vampires… Musidora is reading a novelisation of the series and Marcel Lévesque tries to impress her by pretending to be a super thief. It’s daft fun and even Édouard Mathé pops up as a reveller at the club where his former colleague is “committing” his made-up crimes.

Meg Morley joined in the proto-jazzed mayhem. (that would make a good t-shirt slogan surely?)

 

À bientôt!

 

PJ

 

Musi et Mathé!

Watching the detectives… Louis Feuillade: The Complete Crime Serials (1913-1918), Blu-ray

 

Louis Feuillade not only popularised the dramatic serial as we still know it, he did so during a period when his country was at war with the majority of these four epic series made during the Great War either in and around Paris or in the relative safety of Nice. In truth the form had many parents across the cine-world with America providing The Perils of Pauline starting in 1914 and Edison's – or someone’s - What Happened to Mary in 1912 then Germany, Viggo Larsen's Arsène Lupin contra Sherlock Holmes in 1910 and even earlier, in 1908, the French with Victorin-Hippolyte Jasset launching his series of six Nick Carter films: le roi des detectives! Carter le roi? Je ne pense pas, messieurs... cet homme vit à Baker Street!

Anyway, using the same techniques as these great and not so great detectives, Feuillade evolved the cinematic style across four series, Fantômas, Les Vampires, Judex and Tih Minh all of which left their mark and established motifs that have been used ever since. Some have been available on Blu-ray overseas but for the first time in the UK Eureka’s Masters of Cinema series has now pulled all together in one luxurious and absolutely essential box set celebrating the birth of the box set in many ways!

The films have all been transferred from 4K restorations from original 35mm nitrate originals where possible and the results create such an immediacy and connection with the material, it almost feels like you’re clambering on a roof top with Irma Vep, with the distant sounds of German guns only 70 kilometres away at one point, with the First Battle of the Marne, in September 1914.

 

René Navarre in disguise as Fantômas, the master criminal!

Fantômas (1913)

Adapted from a series of popular novels by Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre, Fantômas stars René Navarre as the eponymous criminal mastermind. Across the serial’s five episodes, Fantômas is pursued by Inspector Juve (Edmund Breon) and newspaper reporter Jérôme Fandor (Georges Melchior) as he carries out his nefarious schemes. As Kim Newman says in his video essay on the set, Fantômas is a supervillain, a “fusion of Professor Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes…” He’s certainly a master of disguise with each episode opening with Navarre in the disguise he will use in each story and, as Newman observes, we never really find out exactly who he us. He’s a universal and uncatchable master villain.

Each episode features Detective against Villain… and cliff-hangers are the order of the day. Fantômas is relentless and Juve is always one step behind. The serial was hugely successful and spawned many impersonators in print and on screen with both the public and, Newman again, the intellectuals, the surrealists attracted by the anarchy and the anti-establishment agenda.

 

Feuillade filmed so often on location, here at Avenue Junot...

Les Vampires (1915-1916)

 

Most people’s first introduction to Feuillade and probably the best and most entertaining of this set, the ten-episode Les Vampires tells of a group of vicious criminals who terrorise Paris, stopping at nothing to gain money and to disrupt the powers that be. They are led by the Grand Vampire (Jean Aymé) who adopts different guises and disguises in most episodes and his key operative (possibly even superior?) is the anagrammatical Irma Vep, played with such vibrant menace by Musidora (the rightfully legendary Jeanne Roques*), who helps to infiltrate elegant society, financial institutions and even the hero’s household for the Vampire cause. She is, as Newman says, the first female super villain, years ahead of Cat Woman and in every way transgressive – a challenge to audience and mankind from her first appearance on stage rousing the gathered gang members.

 

The hero in pursut is not a policeman but an intrepid reporter – one of the first of his kind - Philippe Guérande (Édouard Mathé) who is mostly helped (occasionally hindered) by the comic Mazamette, knowingly played by the fourth wall busting Marcel Lévesque who moves from working with the criminals – his family being under threat. It’s not the first example of characters’ mutability in the free-running serial that sees an ever-changing battle between the forces of order and disorder.

 

Les Vampires also had to contend with costumes of silk and wool with elasticated fabric still scarce...

As film scholar Elizabeth Ezra says in her video essay, the serial included a number of references to the ongoing conflict beyond with code breaking, gas attacks and other weapons of war such as the canon in episode seven and the exploding ship in episode eight all to redolent of events so close and yet, cinematically, so far. So many men were mobilised too and the original Vampire leader had to be called off, after the actor playing him, Louis Leubas, was called up.

 

Another fascinating observation from Ezra relates to the multiple personalities each character potentially presents, with this being an extension of paranoid delusion, Capgras Syndrome patients traumatised by the loss of loved ones belived that those around them had been killed and replaced by imposters in their bodies. Les Vampires is therefore full of people who are not quite as they seem, and there is frequent reference to loss, the serial may not specifically mention the conflict but it’s “haunted by the war” in Ezra’s words.

 

René Cresté, Édouard Mathé and Louis Leubas in Judex; secret lair

Judex (1916-17)

 

Judex is probably the first Masked Avenger – essentially a good version of Fantomas/Musidora possibly after an official reaction to the criminality of the first two serials. At this year’s Il Cinema Ritrovato Festival in Bologna, I was able to watch the screening of the entire series – 12 episodes plus prologue - with live accompaniment which really brought out the full flavour of Feuillade’s sense of drama, his eye for dynamic framing, and his team building and his ability to keep the narrative ball rolling even when you think he’s backed himself into a dramatic dead end.

 

It's not quite up there with Les Vampires but it does have the essentiality of Musidora playing Diana Monti aka Marie Verdier, a scheming opportunist who becomes more and more dominant the longer the story unwinds. Judex himself as played by René Cresté, is a goodie version of Fantômas, part Sherlock Holmes, maybe part Eugène-François Vidocq – an actual French criminal turned criminalist - certainly an outlier for The Shadow, Doc Savage and even The Batman. Feuillade had been criticised for glorifying his evil masterminds and so here was one of good intent even if he does kidnap and fake the death of the businessman responsible for his father’s death and many others, Favraux (Louis Leubas) before imprisoning him for life in a remote castle.

 

Judex has worked a very long game, disguised as Favraux’s secretary, to infiltrate his business dealings. His plan is soon complicated when he falls in love with the banker’s daughter, Jacqueline (Yvette Andréyor) who is soon targeted by the evil Monti! There’s great support from Vampires’ alumni Édouard Mathé as brother Roger and Marcel Lévesque as the comedic Cocantin whose swimming-costume clad fiancée Miss Daisy Torp (Lily Deligny) helps save the day. The kids are alright too and Le petit Jean (Olinda Mano) and The Liquorice Kid (Rene Poyen) deserved their own series!

René Cresté and Mary Harald

 

Tih Minh (1918)

Tih Minh is a change of pace - and technically the most polished - with a new cast of characters and a number of Feuillade’s regular cast playing them again. Set in the South of France the focus is on the goodies again with explorer Jacques d'Athys (René Cresté) who has returned from the Orient with a new fiancé from Laos, Tih Minh (Mary Harald) – a half Vietnamese heroine, interesting in itself - to be greeted by his mother (Madame Lacroix), sister Jane (Lugane) and maid Rosette (Jeanne Rollette) who is romancing his faithful, cheeky, manservant Placido (Georges Biscot).

 

The baddies are the mysteriously bearded “Asian” Kistna (Louis Leubas), Doctor Gilson (Gaston Michel) and the La marquise Dolorès (Georgette Faraboni) who has the real dash of stylish super-vixen, biting a rose with menace in the introductory segment. What they’re about is disrupting the old order… undermining the British Empire and controlling minds with chemical concoctions. They also hold a cellarful of chemically controlled young women… for what purpose we can only guess but there is some nudity revealed at this point… and, whilst you’d never see that in a British or American film at this point, it is a reminder that down the same avenue as entertainment is the darkened rue latérale of exploitation.

 

This serial looks stunning and it’s rare to see such detail and to feel the century melt away as you watch the performers inhabit their roles and the familiar spaces of Nice, with such clarity. The Palais de la Jetée and the beautiful Crystal Casino may be long gone but this is very much a travelogue for the jewel of the Riviera, magnificent views, glorious mansions and the warm breeze of a Mediterranean mistral running through the relentless, narrative parkour, pace of the storyline.

 

Without doubt as film historian and author David Kalat says in his commentary, Feuillade’s crime serials had a huge impact on Fritz Lang who responded with Dr Mabuse, Spies and much more not to mention Alfred Hitchcock and everyone that came after. The influence spread also to pulp magazines – The Shadow – as well as comic books, radio, television and one of the most successful Caped Crusaders also known as Bruce Wayne.

 

Musidora in command, hands on hips, sleeves rolled up...

Join me in investigating these suspiciously special features…

 

·         Limited Edition Hardcase Box Set [2000 copies]

·         Set includes all four serials across 9 Blu-ray Discs, all presented in 1080p HD from stunning 4K restorations courtesy of Gaumont Film Company, with uncompressed LPCM 2.0 audio on all serials

·         Fantômas – audio commentaries on In the Shadow of the Guillotine and Juve vs Fantômas by film historian and author David Kalat

·         Les Vampires – new audio commentaries on The Red Cipher and The Spectre by film historian and author David Kalat

·         Judex – new audio commentaries on the prologue, The Mysterious Shadow, Atonement, The Water Sprite and The Forgiveness of Love by genre film expert and Video Watchdog founder Tim Lucas

·         Tih-Minh – Brand new audio commentaries on The Potion of Forgetfulness, The Mysteries of Circé Villa and Justice by genre film expert and Video Watchdog founder Tim Lucas

·         Casting a Long Shadow –  new interview with critic and author Kim Newman

·         Pamela Hutchinson on Musidora –  new interview with critic, film historian and silent cinema expert Pamela Hutchinson on the star of Les Vampires and Judex

·         The Spectre of War in Les Vampires –  new video essay by film scholar Elizabeth Ezra, editor of European Cinema and France in Focus: Film and National Identity

·         Feuillade in Context – a new interview with writer, composer and silent film accompanist Neil Brand

·         A Closer Look at Feuillade – Brand new interview with critic, writer and film commentator Tony Rayns

·         Fold-out poster – yay!!

·         A limited edition 100-page collector’s book featuring new writing by Louis Feuillade experts Jonathan Rosenbaum, Calum Baker, Annette Förster, Wendy Haslem, Robin Walz and Leon Hunt on the filmmaker and his crime serials alongside select archival imagery

 

The set is released on 11^th November and can be ordered direct from Eureka, not home should be without it. As Neil Brand says in his video essay on the director, not only are these lengthy series with their lose plotting – “one damn thing after another” – enthralling and still engaging, they’re also a social document of the Third French Republic, the war years and the development of one of the most enduring genres in cinema. Where would The Avengers be without HYDRA or James Bond without SPECTRE? And just where would Netflix, Apple TV and everyone else be without crime and punishment? Where would any of us be? This is one to binge and relish. But you know that already.

 

*For more information on Musidora visit the Womens Film Pioneers Project pages and follow on from there. Pamela Hutchinson’s video essay on this Eureka set is also thoroughly recommended!

Il Cinema Ritrovato, ten take-aways from 2019…

1. Musidora absolutely deserves to be included in the canon of women writers, directors and actors. She also liked a bullfight.

OK, Jean Gabin may well be the poster boy for this year’s Il Cinema Ritrovato but for the cinemutophiles it can only be Musidora. I must confess that I have only seen her in Les Vampires and hadn’t fully appreciated the full range of this French actor who I now know is also theatrical performer, writer, poet, director, and icon… meaning many things for many people. Musidora, born Jeanne Roques in 1899, was also a cinema archivist, helping Henri Langlois to preserve not just her own legacy but many others at the Cinémathèque Française.

My Festival kicked off with Patrick Cazals documentary Musidora – la dixième muse (2013), which painted a fuller portrait of the woman who was Irma Vep – an actor of charm and tremendous abilities. Two of the longer episodes of Les Vampires were screened, Episode 3: Le Cryptogramme Rouge (1915) with John Sweeney and percussionist Frank Bockius, and Episode 6 Les Yeux Qui Fascinent (1915) with Neil Brand.

There were also three films in which the actor not only performed but directed and co-wrote:

Soleil et Ombre (1922) was screened outdoors at Piazetta Pasolini with Stephen Horne providing light and shade to this torrid take of toreadors projected by the famous Carbon Arc.

La Tierra de los Toros (Land of the Bulls) 1924 a Franco-spanish production accompanied by Gabriel Thibaudeau

Pour Don Carlos (1921) with Neil Brand is a major restoration of Musidora’s most ambitious and for me, interesting film

We also got the 1963 version of Judex which stylishly tipped its hat in *all* of the right directions in terms of its fast-moving gamelan adventure and abundance of plot, cat suits and secret lairs.  

More Musidora later. There has to be.

Greta Almroth and Lars Hanson in Song of the Scarlet Flower (1919)

2. Mauritz Stiller loved the great outdoors

Sir Arne’s Treasure (1919) with John Sweeney

I’ve written about this film before but its rugged and uncompromising story has so much more impact on the big screen and with Mr Sweeney’s ability to combine epic with emotion so detailed that I swear he changed musical sentiment right in the middle of one title card.

The film tells of a brutal murder by three Scottish warlords in Sweden as they make off with the titular treasure. One girl survives the massacre of Sir Arne’s family and falls in love with Sir Archie not knowing who he is.

The weather conspires to trap the evildoers as they carry the ill-gotten goods and the sea freezes away their escape route. Just when you think that redemption must surely be on the way, there comes the shocking truth that love may not be enough… The Swedes didn’t mess around.

Song of the Scarlet Flower (1919) with new recording of Armas Jarnefelt’s original score.

As for the film, says everything about our leading man, that at least one viewer had to be reminded of which of the female leads he’d ended up with. The trouble with Lars Hanson, observed another, is that he’s better looking than most of his leading ladies. Well, far be it from me to comment, but he’s certainly a fine actor with charisma to burn even when, as here, he’s a bit of a lad who can’t stop himself from lovin’ and leavin’ them.

Filmed in 1918, Mauritz Stiller’s film is the only Swedish silent with a surviving score, written by Finnish composer Armas Jarnefelt whose great nephew was present to hear a new recording alongside the Swedish Film Institute’s restoration of the film. Matching music to film when using so many sources was a digitally-intense job – the original cut for the score does not exist – but it was worth it to hear the film as it would have sounded for those lucky enough to have attended orchestrated screenings. Scoring for a two-hour film is an enormous task – especially in 1919 - and the music was rich in thematic content as well as narrative subtlety: literally, the sound of Swedish silent.

Let’s hope that the SFI and festivals keep the restored Stiller coming with The Saga of Gosta Berling… c'mon Greta Garbo, Lars Hanson... Jenny Hasselqvist!!!

Nell Shipman

3. So did Nell Shipman (and animals)

Back to God’s Country (1919) (35mm) was co-directed by the actor who also wrote the screen play and stared too along with her extensive menagerie. One actor die of exposure on the trip/expedition to the frozen North East and conditions were rugged.

Nell took it all in her stride even skinny dipping to help raise interest in the project: “Is the nude rude” ran the advertising, not by today’s standards but I’m sure many were shocked who’d not blinked an eye at elements of David Wark Griffith’s work.

Donald Sosin accompanied with verve and adventure of his own.

4. Comedy is an experience best shared – especially in the Piazza Maggiore

The Cameraman (1928) with Timothy Brock and Orcestra del Teatro Communale di Bologna

The Piazza was rammed for the first big silent showpiece of the festival and we were lucky enough to find a seat, some drink and, crucially, ice-cream as we watched Buster’s last great film with Timothy Brock’s emphatic new score. Kevin Brownlow introduced and explained how Buster had been sold off to MGM by ex-brother-in-law Joseph Schenck where he was to face a more controlled environment. They gave him a director, Edward Sedgwick, but he was a friendly one and Buster was able to deviate enough off-script – he’d never worked to one – to produce the gags, particularly in the Giant’s baseball ground.

It’s not to everyone’s taste, seemingly, but I like the film a lot and it was good to hear a new audience of all ages respond to Buster’s charm and comedy as he tries to become a professional cameraman in order to win the charms of Marceline Day. The film is very disciplined and the timing is spot on from the moment Buster races across town on the telephone to his love only to answer her in person to the magnificent pull-away shot of the monkey filming Buster’s despair after his finest moment seemingly goes to waste.

Timothy Brock’s score punched emphatically along with every beat of Keaton’s comedy, running with him through Manhattan, fighting to get changed in the swimming pool and forlornly waiting for his big chance with MGM and Marceline. It was as sentimentally robust as the man himself and richly deserved the ovation at the end.

We had more Buster with College (1927) – one of his less masterpieces but still essential viewing, Neil Brand accompanied wit a knowing look and a twinkle as Buster gets the girl though guile and quick-thinking. The only issue being, how could this small but clearly ripped guy not be seen more quickly as an athlete? Still, only a movie...

Thursday night in the Piazza Maggiore and it was Charlie’s turn with The Circus (1927), a film I’ve never seen and one which really benefited from the setting, good company and a few glasses of Spritz…

He improvises at least as well as Keaton and his physical comedy is just as good, more intricate perhaps. But, the more I think about his main character – the man who has nothing and is always more than willing to give it all away, the more I find it striking. This is not some cutesy “everyman” character it is the lowest of the low: usually unemployed and with no health insurance of union to protect him: that “Tramp” has been failed by the system but is always living in hope: on his way back, somehow.

Anyway, we laughed like drains!

5. 1919 was a very good year as was 1899

In addition to the two Stillers and the Shipman there was a broad range of films confirming the strength of cinema in 1919 including Dreyer’s excellent Praesidenten (1919), Richard Oswald’s reconstructed Anders Als Die Andern (1919), Albert Capellani and Nazimova’s The Red Lantern (1919) and Augusto Genina’s curious comedy The Mask and the Face (1919), a social comedy about husbands and wives and homicide: key quote: “You can’t kill me again…”

 There was also a remarkable silent film from India – where so few survive - called Kaliya Mardan (The Children of Krishna) (1919) directed by the ground-breaking Govind Phalke and with Stephen Horne and Frank Bockius providing accompaniment. This was a sheer delight after seeing almost all the existing material from this period. Phalke’s daughter plays the young Krishna and gives just the right amount of cheeky as the young demi-god find his limits and responsibilities. It all culminated in the taming of a huge water God in the shape of a snake… surely a sign of things to come.

We also saw the Signing of United Artists Contract of Incorporation (1919) which showed a three heroes, Doug, Mary and Charlie, cavorting for the crowds whist DWG looked ill-at-ease and a bit grand for his own good in these changing times.

We also saw many restored prints from 1899, including a number from the BFI as well as the other archives. Seeing these projected in the Piazza Maggiore was especially rewarding Newcastle iron workers risking life and limb in the routine of their work… and we fret about Skype connections and toner cartridge… it was fantastic to see these with John Sweeney’s accompaniment in the big arena.

6. New years are not always happy

Piazzetta Pasolini’s carbon-arc projected brought us real rarities with Sylvester (1923) plus some precious Satanas (1919-20) fragments from Murnau and Veidt all with Frank Bockius and Stephen Horne accompanying.

After a dozen Weimar films at the BFI this Spring, I should have been better prepared for Lupu Pick’s dark drama but he went places no one else had gone with an horrific family struggle taking place in the backroom of a bar on a street filled with New Year’s revelry. Over and again Pick switches from the cavorting on the strasse to the condensed hatred and misery of the parlour as the unthinkable unfolds before our soft, festivalled eyes… we too were outside, under the stars having a good time, watching the Piazzetta Pasolini’s carbon-arc projector screen the purest of human relationships unravel, love and envy curdling to hatred…

Frank Bockius mostly took the lead for this one – with Stephen filling on with his customary versatility. It emphasised the films’ dichotomy between doing and hating and worked very well for me: something new, occasionally avant but also full of warmth for the family decent into Hell!

All that from one run through? I genuinely don’t know how it’s done!

7. Harvesting seaweed is dangerous and rewarding

Finis Terrae (1929) Jean Epstein's raw drama felt so much like a Robert Flaherty docu-drama and yet the exquisitely shot tale of desperate infection at the ends of the World was slow-burning tension from start to finish. The cinematography came from four cameramen and I’m sure both Flaherty and Michael Powell were watching as the quietly deadly battle between man and nature showed how quickly the latter can turn against the former.

8. Gender attitudes are “interesting” in classic film

Henry King’s She Goes to War (1929) is, as I’ve written before, a classic case of the glass half full… the original film was mostly silent with some dialogue and some songs from Alma Rubens, and battle scenes described by King Vidor as amongst the best yet filmed – quite something from the director of The Big Parade. Sadly, what remains is a re-issued version from 1939 which cuts out all the title cards and a fair chunk of the plot in order to present a sound film focused mostly on those battle scenes.

We must join the dots to understand Eleanor Boardman’s character’s story arc as she follows her beloved to Europe only to find that he’s a cowardly drunk – unlike the handsome young captain who leads his men, and woman, into fight. Clearly there was a lot more of the love triangle but all that’s left is the denouement when Boardman is left off the hook by her fella’s lack of courage and, having taken his place in the fray, emerges triumphant with the glory and the guy.

The print wasn’t great but there’s enough here to show how good King’s technical direction was – the battle is indeed edge of your seat gritty – and to show what a good actor Boardman was. She’s often not given the credit she deserves, The Crowd excepted, but this was another stretch for a woman once described as “the most outspoken in Hollywood”. That said, no amount of mud can disguise those eyes…

Eleanor Boardman

“Thank ‘eaven for leetle girls…” sings Maurice Chevalier in Gigi a film I had never seen and which was described by one festival-goer as a sing-along about child prostitution. I don’t think it’s quite that, Leslie Caron was 25 at the time of the shoot, and the film itself does have her character rebelling against being “arranged” into a relationship with Louis Jordan’s rich Count. In the end they both realise the only way for them is to proceed as equals and to marry… Chevalier’s old letch carries on as before, picking women when they are “ripe” and possibly regretting nothing.

It was projected on a vintage 1961 print and looked wonderful even with all those scratches: an analogue experience in a digital world…

Jean Gabin studies in Du Haute n Bas

9. Jean Gabin had presence and we can all see just why he was the love of Marlene Dietrich’s life

I watched on of Gabin’s earliest as a thug in Coeur de Lilas (1931) and then as the far more charming football player in GW Pabst’s Du Haute n Bas (High and Low) (1933) which was a much more polished film with a superb cast and a very focused story of love amongst the different classes in the Fourth French Republic. Director Anatole Litvak uses Jean Gabin well a soccer-playing hero who wants to improve himself in order to romance Janine Crispin, a Phd student who takes a job as a housekeeper until a teaching post comes up.

It's a deft comedy that includes Michel Simon as an unemployed layer who is trying to work out a way to break the bank at Monte Carlo.

Gabin was still learning his craft in these films and by1937 there was Pépé le Moko and he had definitely arrived.

10. Underground cinema is cooler than you think

I Topi Grigi Episodes 1 and 2 (1918), with Antonio Coppolla

The Cantiere Modernissimo is an underground cinema, as in cinema under-ground, which is in perpetual restoration a dampness pervading its musty walls; plaster undried and never drying with the smell of old ambition mixed with that of new construction. There’s an ambience of faded ballrooms which adds deep resonance to the piano accompaniment and tonight Antonio Coppolla (brother of Francis Ford who was also here) took full advantage with rolling chords that flowed along with the comedy-dramatics on screen.

This was very much an Italian version of a French serial, written, directed and starring Emilio Ghione who injects a sense of humour filling in for holes in plot wider than the river Tiber! But, as the plot heated up, we stayed cool, deep underground as the flags cracked above us.

A tight spot for Emilio Ghione

In summary...

I’d seen a number of the Festival’s films on DVD/Blu-ray and for all of the silents they we improved by audience and especially live accompaniment. For more modern fair, the big screen gave a chance to project wide-screen vintage prints which were sometimes stunning – as with Henry King’s noirish Western, The Bravados (1958) and Gigi (for all the scratches) - always more engaging than on home media… depending on how much sleep you’ve had and how well the aircon was working. For this year was a scorcher in Bologna with temperatures hovering near to 40 at one point; best advice on that was 1. Don’t book again for a room in one of the ancient and attractive palazzi (no aircon) and 2.  Always wear a hat!

See you next year in a straw trilby.

The further adventures of… Les Vampires (1915)

Irma Vep stows away...

When last I left Les Vampires it was roughly at the half way point, with a further twist in the already meandering plotline seeing a rival emerging to the criminal gang. Juan-José Moréno (Fernand Herrmann) is the Vampires’ equal in cunning but is perhaps less anarchistic and more purely driven by criminal greed.

Sometimes it feels as if Louis Feuillade’s ground-breaking series is being made up as he goes along  but that would hardly be unique. As the episodes pile up and the stories get longer, he succeeds in maintaining interest and in fleshing out the characters.

Satanus, Moréno and Irma plot...

The enemy keeps on  shifting as the Grand Vampire (Jean Aymé ) is despatched by Moréno only for the real head Vampire to be revealed as the aptly-named Satanus (Louis Leubas). He in turn is replaced by the chemical mastermind, Venomous (Frederik Moriss) as the Vampires prove able to re-generate themselves and the narrative.

The one constant is the presence of Irma Vep (Musidora) who is with us until the bitter end. Feuillade knew when he was on to a good thing and this prototypical femme fatale is the real heart of the criminal gang. She falls for Moreno and the two threaten a new off-shoot gang before they are captured and executed. But Irma just won’t lie down and with Satanus’ audatious help escapes from the ship taking her to confinement in Algiers and fights her way back to Paris.

I’m not sure if she was the first such “baddy” in film but she certainly was one of the earliest. She’s full of evil energy and seems totally ruthless in the pursuit of her aims, even fooling some railway staff into making a collection for her after spinning them a yarn of love betrayed.

The journalist Philippe Guérande (Édouard Mathé ) remains relentless in his own pursuit and as the story develops he and his family come under increasing threat. The Vampires are resourceful and very much the equal of the forces of good, every defeat brings another victory nearer for them.

Philippe becomes engaged to Jane (Louise Lagrange) and the Vampires plot to finish off his fiancé and poison his whole family. It’s only through good fortune that the guests are saved, albeit at the expense of the concierge’s life.

Augustine crosses Avenue Junot...

There are more superb exterior shots as the Vampires are chased across rooftops, in cars, on trains and on bikes! It remains a superb document of Paris a century past and mere miles away from the front line in the Great War.

Mazamette (Marcel Lévesque) continues to provide much light relief and his character is really fleshed out after he acquires a fortune in reward money following the arrest of an incidental fraudster. We meet his young son who is soon enlisted in helping to track down the Vampires (and armed with his own gun!). It’s quite a leap for the character who had been so easily blackmailed in the early episodes but the story is stronger for it – he’s a more engaging character than straight-ahead hero Philippe.

Augustine (Germaine Rouer) and Mazamette (Marcel Lévesque)

In the final episode, Jane, now Philppe’s wife, is kidnapped by the Vampires who also ensnare Augustine (Germaine Rouer), the concierge’s widow and Mazamette’s fancy (I lost track of where his wife had gone!). Philippe traces their car thanks to a hole Mazamette had blown in the petrol tank. He cases the joint and lowers his gun to Jane imprisoned in the cellar.

The pace really picks up as he prepares the ground for their rescue and, as the Vampires engage in an orgiastic celebration assured of their ultimate victory, the police arrive and slowly get into position…

To find out what happens I recommend you buy the box set. It’s pretty easy-going stuff and reminded me a lot of 1960’s ITC serials such as The Avengers and Department S. The criminals use gadgets – gas, portable mortar guns – they have hide-outs, diguises and are nearly always ahead of their opponents.

Mazamette thinks!

They’re also pretty good dancers and have an amoral spirit which almost makes you root for them: anti heroes don’t come much more charmingly camp than Irma Vep!

The acting is good and any over the top moments are redeemed by the tongues firmly in their cheeks: it’s not just Mazamette who has his knowing gaze to camera. This is meant to be escapist fun... it wasn't necessarily the time for serious drama.

The Vampires celebrate victory, but are they being premature...

These are the ideal films to use on the undercard before your main features and watched over time as a "series" rather than swallowed whole. I thoroughly enjoyed Les Vampires and as with all good box sets, wished there’d been one more story arc.

I watched the Artificial Eye DVD but the whole shebang is now available on Blu-Ray... tempting!

 

The first box set in film? Les Vampires (1915)

We’re all accustomed to watching “series”: stories with ongoing narratives split over a period of time in separate "episodes". Extensively used in literature, adopted quickly by cinema and finding a natural home on television (can there be any better example than The Wire?), the serial has been the major form of story telling. It ensures long-term reader/watcher/user engagement and allows the flexibility of developing an endless variety of stories around a finite number of familiar characters.

In film, connected episodic stories began emerging early on but it was the French director, Louis Feuillade, who produced the most coherent multi-episodic sequences. He played a major part in defining and developing the form through La vie telle qu'elle est: la Tare (1911) and Fantômas (1913-14) then Les Vampires from 1915 to 1916.

Les Vampires ended up as a series of ten episodes each of differing lengths. It is common to review them as a whole but I’ve taken a break half way through to see how the “real-time” viewer may have interpreted them. I’ve seen episodes 1 to 5 but am I compelled to find out what happens to the characters?

Les Vampires tells of a group of vicious criminals who terrorise Paris, stopping at nothing to gain money and to disrupt the powers that be. They are led by the Grand Vampire (Jean Aymé) who adopts different guises and disguises in most episodes. His key operative is the anagrammatical Irma Vep (played with cute menace by Musidora AKA Jeanne Roques) who helps to infiltrate banks, elegant society and even the hero’s household for the Vampire cause.

Throughout they are pursued by an intrepid reporter – one of the first of his kind - Philippe Guérande (Édouard Mathé) who is mostly helped (occasionally hindered) by the comic Mazamette (knowingly played by Marcel Lévesque).

The one word that best describes the series is “fun”, the stories whiz by and are very well structured by Feuillade. The production is disciplined and varied as it moves on apace with the narrative linked by a variety of expositionary telegrams, newspaper articles and other devices which cleverly remove the need for too many clunky intertitles.

The action switches quickly from interior groups to external shots. Close-shots of individuals and groups help to animate events and the actors seem closer to the viewer than with much contemporary cinema. There are also some thrilling shots of the rooftops of Paris as the Vampires make their escape, the camera pans gently as the grand vista of Paris opens up behind them and it follows their descent to their perfectly planned getaway.

Cameras accompany their travels either from the car behind or even in the car itself. I’m not sure how ground-breaking Feuillade was, but he certainly puts a lot of fresh, developing techniques and conventions into one place!

Here we can see the ground being broken for the police procedural, the thriller, 60’s spy films and genre TV (The Avengers and The Prisoner?) and even film noir. Les Vampires are usually one step ahead and the good guys are never guaranteed their victory. Far from it as the opening episode begins with the discovery of the headless body of the chief of police in charge of investigating the gang.

In the short second episode the ballet dancer engaged to our hero can not be saved from the villains' plotting and here, as elsewhere, their motivations are less than clear... perhaps adding to their menace.

In the third episode, we meet Irma Vep the femme fatale leading many of the Vampire’s most daring undertakings. She is first seen performing in a nightclub – The Hissing Cat Club – which doubles as a meeting place for the gang. Using the note book he gained in episode two, Guérande is able to work out where the Vampires meet and what their plans are.

Quickly though, the gang turns the tables and places Irma Vep undercover (poachers using gamekeeper tricks already!) in his household. He survives but his mother has already been taken prisoner… the action is thick and fast with the story devices efficiently woven into the events. Guérande has already given his mother a Vampire poison pen… ”just in case”…it may well help her!

A new twist is introduced in the fourth episode with the introduction of a rival gang of equal guile to the Vampires. They are led by Juan Jose Moreno who is also adept at disguise and duplicity. Now Guérande has two foes to defeat…unless they beat each other first.

This story features a tip of the hat to the huge popularity of movies, a bank manager who goes to the flickers every week: “je suis un fanatique du cinema!”. A clear indication that this wasn’t at the start of movies but smack right in the middle of their red hot period (even in Paris during war time…so close to the front).

The fifth episode pitches the two gangs head to head as the Vampires gas a society party in order to steal the guests’ jewels. At first you fear that everyone has been killed… an horrific fate, even the suggestion of which shows how ruthless Feuillade wants his villains to be. Moreno intercepts their getaway vehicle though – there’s a great shot of the vehicle from a car behind – and makes off with the hoard.

Honours roughly even between the three sides, I sincerely look forward to the remaining episodes. Feuillade succeeds in setting out dramatic events but also underlays everything with characterisation, backstory and motive. Guérande lives with his mother but has now lost his girlfriend to the group, Mazamette is forever being blackmailed to save his children whilst the bad guys are classy and stylish - professional criminals who want to gain from violence, destruction and fear.

Maybe this last point places the series in the context of World War One more than might be suspected. This is an adventure series but there are some bad things happening and no one is safely guaranteed to make it through to the end.

Les Vampires is available in a crisp, clear print in a three DVD set from Artificial Eye. It’s here.