War horse… A Couple of Down-And-Outs (1923) at BFI with John Sweeney

Eight million horses are estimated to have died during the First World War as mechanisation and weapons of mass destruction quickly showed them to be ineffective front-line weapons – in the last British cavalry charge in March 1918 all but 4 of the 150 horses involved were killed. They were used extensively behind the lines, able to pull their weight even in the hopeless mud behind the trenches.

The film was the first to be directed by Walter Summers who went on to great success with battle recreations for British Instructional Films such as Ypres (1925), Mons (1926), Nelson (1926) and the marvelous The Battles of Coronel and Falkland Islands (1927) (reviewed here).

Rex Davis and friend

It’s a far more straightforward tale than what was to come but shows evidence of Summers’ own wartime experience that led him to become what David Robinson terms, British cinema’s war poet.

In addition to Bryony Dixon, the film was also introduced by Sir Sydney Samuelson whose father, GB Samuelson not only produced the film but also photographed it and played a role in the writing. Samuelson Senior had an extraordinary career and was involved in over a hundred films of which, sadly, only around a tenth survive, so when this film was rediscovered in a loft somewhere in Holland there was much cause for celebration.

Now restored by the BFI from this last surviving print (now held by EYE) the film has English intertitles and is a delight for the eye.

Summers staged some huge reconstructions for the film

It’s fascinating to tap into British sensibilities just five years after what they were already calling The Great War: there’s a resilience to officiousness and unthinking authority and yet a respect for our institutions, our fighting men – and horses – and an eagerness to stand together and support our fellow man.

That easy going, clear-eyed great Britain can spot a phoney a mile off and someone in need of genuine help all at the same time: war-hardened and quick-witted there was no time to be wasted on fripperies.

A Britain still mourning

Our hero – an unnamed horse (two to be precise) and/or an unemployed ex-soldier, Danny Creath (Rex Davis) – are both left down and out after the War and it’s fascinating to see this being dealt with so openly at a time when “the returned” were still be re-assimilated into society.

Danny can’t find work and traipses around hoping for the best when it seems society has passed him by. At the docks, where he has once again failed to find work, he spots a familiar-looking horse… It’s one the animals used by his unit to pull the guns and he recognises not only its distinctive white head and “socks” but also the scar it gained when they were both wounded in battle.

Danny takes action and the pals escape

It’s due for shipment to Belgium and the knackers yard but he can’t let this brave animal bow out in this way and old courage returned and old certainties of duty clear he knocks two of the cruel handlers down and, with the ready help of the dock workers, who pile on the helpless men, makes his escape on the back of his old friend.

The scenes at the dock are an evocation of trade past and as Danny rides through narrow terraced streets we can see the wider environment – Wapping? – he knocks over a peeler on his escape but manages to find a house with a stable.

Molly confronts the strange man in her yard

Molly Roarke (Edna Best) is the young woman of the house and comes outside to find out what the noise was. An instant, post-war bond is made as she sizes up this medalled young man – who reminds her so much of the brother she lost in the war – how many households were unscathed?

By the time the Police come calling she’s already decided whose side she’s on… As she makes Danny some of her excellent coffee we learn the story in flash back. There are scenes from Jutland – mighty battle cruisers firing their 18 inch guns – where her brother died and then on the front where Danny and the horse fought. Some of this may be stock footage but its assembly and production clearly foreshadow Summers' later work.

Edna Best

There’s a lovely interplay between Molly and Danny and when her father (George Foley) – the Policeman who Danny knocked over – arrives for a “break” the subtleties of his relationship with his daughter almost pass the young man by…

The film is a balm for an audience still feeling the losses of the conflict as well as the economic impact. There’s a telling moment at the dock when Danny sneers at boxes of toy soldier all “Made in Germany”… then, as now the problem was always what the other fellas are doing but, in truth, the situation in Germany was far worse. But since when have facts influenced local sentiments?

Here to help: George Foley

Even now, A Couple of Down-And-Outs makes you feel better and it’s not just the skill of the film making…

John Sweeney accompanied with his usual verve – foot-sure improvisations that moved with the surprisingly sentimental and optimistic subject. He’d earlier improvised over a few minutes of footage showing the studios used by this and other Samuelson films. Sight-unseen he produced the perfect background for set painting, dancing rehearsals and directing: he could play along to accounting or even marketing and make it interesting!

The film is available on the EFG portal which shows the EYE copy with Dutch subtitles although an English translation is available.

The curious incident of the dog on a ladder in the night… Married Love (1923), with John Sweeney, Kings College, BSFFS 2016

Our Lilian

I can forgive this film anything as it stars Lilian Hall-Davis, simply one of the best actresses of the silent era and someone who plays emotions across her face as easily as most of us breathe.

But... there is a dog that climbs a fireman’s ladder up to a first floor bedroom blaze and returns with a child on its back and possibly several kittens. There’s also obscure advice about keeping the roses pruned as the well-tended ones tend to be better quality children… or something like that.

Married Love –released as the more carefully-worded, Maisie's Marriage - was based on birth control pioneer Marie Stopes’s book of the same name and it’s undeniably unfair to take issue with whatever metaphor was required to sneak the message through. The film was controversial with the BBFC removing a number of references to the subject matter – up to 14 minutes’ worth - and slapping an A certificate on for good measure: adults only – dogs maybe too.

The film is exceptionally good-natured and maintains a healthy balance between the drama and the coy parental advice. Alexander Butler directs well if a little unevenly.

A garden of children at The Burrows' house

We begin with the highly-populous Burrows family who have packed out their modest apartment with ten children and possibly more. Mrs Burrows (Sydney Fairbrother) spends her time between pregnancies cooking, ironing and being run ragged and has the added bonus of Mr Burrows (Sam Livesey) being effectively an eleventh child.

Their eldest son, an incredibly youthful Roger Livesey, has no clue where he’s going and is shaping up to be a chip of the old block (actor also being the step-son of his screen dad) but the one ray of hope is daughter Maisie (Lilian Hall-Davis) who works as a waitress and has the motivational drive provided by wanting to avoid being anything like her parents.

A grown-up Mr Livesey showing more of his Westminster School poise...

One day Maisie meets a friendly fireman, Dick Reading (Rex Davis), who stalks her back to the café where he is able to dampen the ardour of a couple of sexual harassers. Dick (sorry, I’m going to have to call him Richard) is self-assured, in most things, loves his mum and, indeed, his dog showing Maisie their photos with pride. But as their relationship forms Maisie becomes increasingly afraid of the consequences of settling down: she’s not keen on the multiple births and lifetime of drudgery marriage seems to entail.

She argues this point with Richard and her eavesdropping Pa intervenes after hearing how little she seems to value him as a role model. Maisie’s no push-over and she bites back only to storm out into an uncertain night.

Sam Livesey who married his sister-in-law after the death of her husband, and Roger's father, Joseph...

She walks to Piccadilly – a lovely sequence at the Circus all bathed in neon then as now – where she meets a couple of good-time girls who tell her that a good-time is just what she needs as well: as there’s nothing like “a jazz” to cheer you up. They head off to a nightclub for some of this jazz and Maisie encounters another sad example of masculinity: top hat and tails bemoaning the fact that he “…shouldn’t be here, it’s the wife’s fault… can’t mate with an icicle.”

Maisie refuses to engage and a fight breaks out which sees the gent proving to actually be a bit of a gent as he defends her, inspired by the unmistakable look of innocence in her eyes. Despondent, Maisie wanders until the morning and, finding herself on a bridge, climbs up and shockingly jumps into the Thames.

Marie Stopes in February 1923

Hall-Davis looks to go the full-Gish in this sequence and is certainly wild-drowning in some of the shots. A passing couple spot Maisie and he dives in whilst she gets the Police. She’s rescued but will have to face trail – suicide is illegal whether you live or die.

Maisie gets no sympathy from a misogynistic magistrate and cries out “I’m being punished for something I never knew… “; something she was never told. The couple try to intervene but she is sentenced to two months in the Second Division. On release she’s greeted by the woman, Mrs. Sterling (Gladys Harvey) who offers her a job as their maid and drives her back to upper middle class security.

Mr Sterling (Bert Darley) is a successful writer – is there any other kind? – and they have three darling little darlings, hair madly curled by the intense satisfaction of a childhood spent in endless play and wonder. No scrapping under their Ma’s ironing board or getting forgotten in the pub by their pre-occupied Pa… for them.

Marie Stopes' birth control clinic caravan

They awaken Maisie’s maternal instincts "that longing that lies in every woman’s heart…” but she’s surely thrown her chances with Richard hasn’t she? Cut to the inventive fireman showing his mother (Mary Brough) his new fire ladder – it’s been accepted and he’s going to do well… is there any way he and Maisie can ever be re-united.

And that’s how we come to find that dog climbing those steps and rescuing that child… but you really need to see this for yourself.

John Sweeney accompanied with his customary sure-fingered precision and maintained an elegant dignity even when those roses sprouted a child’s face and the canine clambering threatened to scupper the drama.

See! Emotions, playing across her face...

Lilian is lovely throughout and acts rings round cast and script… she never hits a wrong note even in a film as wayward in tone as this one. Hers should have been a long and glorious career and yet it wasn’t to be -  time for a retrospective and can someone please screen Boadicea?

The film was screened as part of the opening day of the annual British Silent Film Festival Symposium at Kings College London… of which more later…