Showing posts with label Slapstick Festival 2020. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Slapstick Festival 2020. Show all posts

Monday, 21 December 2020

So here it is (against all odds)… 2020's Silent Highlights


“A journey in one’s armchair – a journey of the mind – is the nicest kind of journey, because it’s what we want it to be, because there are no obstacles, and all our dreams are granted.”


In such a year as this with no accompanied silent film screenings since the middle of March… how can Arthur find very much to thank? Well, let me tell you there is more to be thankful of in 2020 than in any normal year because, despite it all, people did carry on and they did put the show on Right Here! So here they are - in no particular order - my top twelve silent delights from a year spent mostly at home...


Buster and Natalie Talmadge 

1. Slapstick Festival – Our Hospitality (1923) with The European Silent Screen Virtuosi


If it was January it must have been Bristol and the reliably sensational Slapstick Festival which was again packed with rare and beautiful shorts as well as features I’d previously missed such as Lubitsch’s So This is Paris (1926) and James Cruze’s On to Reno (1928) starring Marie Prevost. The highlight was Buster’s Our Hospitality screened in the cathedral with an informed, passionate introduction from actor Paul McGann who this year joined with me in celebrating victory for Liverpool Football Club in the Premier League as well the World Club Championship… 2020 eh!?


Our Hospitality was the first of Buster’s features and a huge leap for comedy kind with a substantial budget enabling him to shift the legendary Canfield and McKay feud back to the 1830s resulting in a very funny and genuinely thrilling film with real drama added to the gags by one of the greatest of comedy innovators.


The European Silent Screen Virtuosi joyfully accompanied with Günter A. Buchwald, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius filling the cavernous spaces with perfectly judged collaborative improvisation.


Pierre Magnier gets a hat, gets ahead.


2.       Cyrano de Bergerac (1925), with John Sweeney, Phoenix Cinema


Pure joy in February Finchley with a Cyrano that is one of the few surviving colourised silent features; a sumptuous classic that revels in its own excesses in full expectation that the audience know exactly what’s coming from this classic tale of secret love. It is a film that demands to be watched in a beautiful 108-year-old cinema and with accompaniment from someone as skilled as John Sweeney who provided so many stirring motifs that you could almost see a feathered hat bobbing over the keyboard.


I remarked at the time that it was “…well worth braving Storm Ciara for on a day National Rail told us not to travel! Faint hearts and all that…” Go on, tempt fate, why don’t you?



3.       Tatjana (1923), with John Sweeney, Kennington Bioscope


I don’t think anyone took the Cinema Museum for granted, even before all of this… but I wouldn’t have ever thought that this would be my last trip there for nine months and counting. This show was a very rare screening of a skilfully made tale of love and obsession during the turbulence of the Russian Revolution. Made in Germany with direction from the Danish Robert Dinesen, it does at least feature a Russian lead, Olga Tschechowa, as the woman distracting several comrades from purposeful politics.


John Sweeney is, of course, very much your man for the Russians and wove splendid dramatic and romantic lines through the web of revolutionary intrigue. He hadn’t seen the film – who had? – but he was, of course, spot on.


Jenny Hasselqvist y'all!


4.      Ingmar's Inheritance (1925), Selma Lagerlöf’s Jerusalem


Everything closed in the first Lockdown, those of us who could worked from home and, in my case, programmed an in-house season of Swedish films based on my reading of Selma Lagerlöf’s epic Jerusalem as translated by the well-intentioned but over fussy, Velma Swanston Howard. Four films were made of the two books of Victor Sjöström made the first two, The Sons of Ingmar (Ingmarssönerna) (1919) and then Karin Daughter of Ingmar (Karin Ingmarsdotter) (1920) which failed to repeat the success of the first film leaving the director to turn his attention elsewhere.


Gustaf Molander picked up the project and completed the story with his brace, Ingmar's Inheritance (Ingmarsarvet) (1925) and Till österland (1926). The two directors had many differences in approach with Sjöström’s narrative much closer to Lagerlöf’s text and more focused on the interior life of her conflicted characters whilst Molander broadened the palate, taking more liberties and setting up more action.


I especially enjoyed Ingmar's Inheritance which has a stellar cast including Lars Hanson, Mona Mårtenson, Conrad Veidt and Sweden’s actor/prima ballerina superstar Jenny Hasselqvist!


Indoor adventure with Raymond McKee


5.       KBTV – Kennington Bioscope Online, Kidnapped (1917) with John Sweeney (ITMA!)


When the going got tough, the tough went online… It was Dame Pamela of Walthamstow who once described the Kennington Bioscope as London’s Silent Speakeasy, an exclusive yet inclusive, almost mythical club of the committed and persistently passionate silent cinephiles who gather under shadowy circumstances once every three weeks or so… When the door of the Museum had to shut, these movie mobsters just stayed calm and carried on, shifting to digital and, with casual ease, bloomin’ well going global!


Hosted by Michelle Facey – literally the face of KBTV – throughout lockdown the Kennington Bioscope have been broadcasting shorter films on their YouTube channel but this episode was something else as there was a full feature film with live accompaniment from John Sweeney and an introduction from Fritzi Kramer, America’s premier silent blogger with Movies Silently and the woman who crowdfunded the restoration and DVD release of Alan Crosland’s adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped. It’s a film for all the family and one which retains its sense of adventure and charm a century on.


Nita Naldi and John Barrymore: two great profiles...


6.       Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920), HippFest at Home with Neil Brand


One of the first and biggest disappointments of the year was the cancellation of Hippfest – ock, we were just a week away…  The Hipponauts stayed connected via social media though and after an earlier shared watch-along of Clara Bow’s It, this was the full Monty: a learned introduction from Pamela Hutchinson and the wonderful – properly diegetic – scoring of Neil Brand for one of the classics of the silent era, courtesy of Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray of the 2011 restoration.


This was also another of those “appointments to view” with so many of the silent film community watching and commenting as the film played; from London, Bristol, Scotland, Europe and the USA… we were all in the room sharing the film just as we do in festival. Sure, we had to bring our own drinks and nibbles, but this was a night when social distancing became merely a physical construct.


Valéry Inkijinoff acting up a storm


7.       Storm Over Asia (1928), Silent Film Days Bonn, Elizabeth-Jane Baldry and Stephen Horne


Some countries did better than others post lockdowns and in August the 36th Silent Film Days in Bonn was one of the first to run in Europe. The organisers also decided to stream some of the films along with the live accompaniment so that those of us who couldn’t make it, could experience something of the immediacy and ambience of the festival.

 

So, huddled over my laptop, in my Berlinale t-shirt and with my Louise Brooks Pordenone Silent Film Festival mug topped up, I watched this crystal-clear restoration of Vsevolod Pudovkin’s Storm Over Asia (1928) and listened to the visceral interplay between accompanists Elizabeth-Jane Baldry and Stephen Horne on headphones… and it was almost like being there; certainly one of the most visceral streams of the year.


Ruan Lingyu


8.      
Guofeng (National Customs) (1935) with Gabriel Thibaudeau, 39th Pordenone Silent Festival


Talking of Le Giornate del cinema muto… this year’s edition moved spectacularly online with an afternoon and evening’s worth of musician masterclasses, main feature and post screening discussion that gave us something of the festival’s immediacy and intensity. Every day for a week festival director Jay Weissberg bounded out from our screens drawing us into the programme of restored gems and quoting the above lines from Michel Robida about our shared armchair journeys.


The films were a treat from the restored Weimar sophistication of Abwege (sex and drugs and Brigitte Helm…) to the small-town, mid-west, juvenile Americana of Penrod and Sam (1923) via a rare trip to Greece for The Apaches of Athens (1930). It’s a close-run thing but my favourite was probably Guofeng (1935), accompanied by Gabriel Thibaudeau. Made during a fighting pause in the China’s lengthy civil wars the film promoted Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang (KMT or Nationalist Party) call for a return to core values with its New Life Movement. The movement, sharing values with the opposing Communist Party, was reaction against Western imperialist influence and urged the people to observe social and political responsibilities, practice frugality and to know one’s sense of shame.


Now, if that sounds too functional a brief the resulting drama is nonetheless well made and acted especially by a radiant Ruan Lingyu, the star of Goddess (1934) among many other Chinese silents, before she committed suicide aged just 25 in early March 1935, some two months before the film’s release. She is extraordinary here as every time I’ve seen her, gently emoting and disarmingly direct, sometimes straight to camera if not to the audience, she never leaves her character.


The Masterclasses were also uniformly fascinating and provided extra dimensions to the screenings along with Jay’s masterfully chaired discussions. Sorry Jay, but next year’s festival is just going to have to be that much longer to allow for this all!! Immacolato!!


BFI's Bryony and KB's Michelle introduce

9.       The Cheaters (1929) with Cyrus Gabrysch, London Film Festival 2020


After Pordenone it was straight on to London for the next streaming festival and one that brought a collaboration from the Kennington Bioscope and the BFI. KBTV MC Michelle Facey introduced along with the BFI’s Bryony Dixon who filled us in on the remarkable McDonagh Sisters, Paulette who directed this and seven other features, Isabel, the star, acting under the name Marie Lorraine and Phyllis who worked as art director. They even had their own set, using their splendid family home Drummoyne House as well as some stunning locations around Sydney.


The Cheaters was the third of the McDonagh sister’s films and shows a remarkable consistency of tone and aesthetic. It’s a very proficient melodrama with Hollywood-level performances allied to a crispness of direction and that visual cohesion described by the National Film and Sound Archive as evidence of the McDonagh sisters' “understanding of mood and atmosphere.”


Cyrus Gabrysch’s accompaniment was a gorgeous gamelan, matching the drama but also the thread of family and love. Occasionally I glanced down at his work on the now famous Bioscope “Piano Cam” but mostly, as John and Neil had said in Pordenone’s masterclasses, the music was at the heart of the film and it felt exactly as if it was coming out of the screen!



10.   The House of Shadows (1924), Stephen Horne & Elizabeth-Jane Baldry, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto Silent Stream


There is much discussion about the “new normal” and whether cinema viewing will return in the same ways after the pandemic is ended but some things can stay, especially archive streaming. The Danish Film Institute has – literally – hundreds of silent films available to view on its site (of which more anon) whilst the San Francisco Silent Film Festival also provides highlights from previous screenings. Le Giornate has The Silent Stream which in addition to the masterclasses, features films from earlier editions including this gem from 2017, my first year in Pordenone.


The House of Shadows is an intense melodrama set in northern Norway and Anders Wilhelm Sandberg’s film is an intense, mystical family drama that is as disturbing as it is haunting with some outstanding locations matched by some exceptional performances.


Elizabeth-Jane and Stephen make for an intuitive paring and they fill the characters with so much musical warmth as well as dread, lifting their lines above the swooping panoramas and pacing the viewing narrative with a measured precision that confounds the occasional reminder that this is all played live. There’s a rapture of applause at the end and I think you can hear me whooping as well!



11.   Digital release of the year? The Intrigue (1916)/A Son of Erin (1916), Kino Lorber Blu-ray


Like many compulsive obsessives I have a stack of unwatched Blu-rays and DVDs, in order of release date or sub-sectioned by Director… and whilst this has been the year to eat into that reserve there’s also been good reason to add to the challenge by bringing in more! One I bought and watched was this great set from Kino Lorber featuring forgotten films from Julia Crawford Ivers.


Included are four films either written by or written and directed by Ivers all of which compliment her film, The Call of the Cumberlands (1916) included on the company’s boxset of Women Film Pioneers which, a six discs and 25 hours long, is the perfect lockdown companion.


This set majors on The Intrigue, a science fiction spy adventure from 1916, and whilst it’s very interesting, it was A Son of Erin (1916) written and directed by Ivers that drew my eye the most as it had a number of thematic parallels with Cumberlands; humble men making good, steadfast romance in a changing world and corruption in public office. Ivers sense of morality is consistent across these films and that draws you in further to the history of the films and the time.


Ben Model


12.   Streaming King: The Silent Comedy Watch Party, Ben Model and Steve Massa


Incredibly Ben Model hosted his thirty eighth silent comedy streaming on Sunday 20th December making him one of the most relentless bringers of digital joy for the year. The redoubtable Steve Massa provides deeply informed introductions and Ben live-accompanies shorts comedies starring every silent comedian you have and haven’t heard of. It’s an education and an inspiration. Also *funny*!


This week’s episode featured champion Charley Chase in There Ain’t No Santa Claus (1925) which proved that, actually Chaz, there is one, as this was the perfect comedy gift on a day, we desperately needed it! We also had Martha Sleeper – who I’ve previously descried as the silent era Parker Posey (OK, just me then…) and who is literally slapstick on skates in Sure-Mike (1925) - effortless amongst the mayhem in a two-reeler which also features some youngster name of Fay Wray. There was also lovely Lillian Peacock in A Shadowed Shadow (1916) which is not as dark as it seems… no shades of grey just grade “A” comedy.


Martha Sleeper


Steve and Ben take the digital biscuit and epitomise the resilience and invention of our silent cineaste subculture and its positive refusal to stand by in disconnected silence. As Ben says, people are contacting them and letting them know how the show is heloing them cope with social restrictions and much more beside; laughter maybe the best medicine but so is routine and dedication. 


Thank you boys and thank you everyone above for continuing to shine your light in 2020. We go again in 2021 and I look forward to seeing you online and in theatres as soon as possible.


Sunday, 26 January 2020

High signs… Slapstick Festival Day Two & Three, Bristol Watershed and Cathedral


Paul McGann stood in the pulpit of Bristol Cathedral not unlike Lars Hanson’s priest in The Saga of Gosta Berling and he told it, with all the confidence and power of the truly convicted. There are many takes on introducing film but Mr McGann brought the passion of a silent enthusiast with the technical appreciations of a skilled actor. He introduced the films but he also set the scene but detailing choice moment of performative brilliance from Charlie, Stan and Buster, whetting audience appetites for relishing something new even amidst familiarity. When Charlie wipes Edna’s face with a soapy sock he’s reminding her of a mother long forgotten and when Stan realises he doesn’t have money in his wallet but luncheon vouchers, he gives the most devastated and bloody hilarious response; straight to camera – to us – help!!

The gala featured Chaplin’s The Vagabond (1916), one of his breakthrough two-reelers for Mutual in which he rescues Edna Purviance from a group of gypsies who stole her as a child and turned her into a drudge. It’s a life of slavery and the more I watch Charlie the more I think of his upbringing and his politics; his tramp obviously standing outside of accepted society, intervening as he sees fit. Not so archaic after all.

On the Saturday we’d see a couple of Charlie’s films from the First National period including Pay Day (1922) in which he is married and working as a builder who tries to hide some of his pay from his wife. In Their Purple Moment (1928) Stan and Ollie try to do the same so they can afford a night out on the tiles and off the hook. Of course, it doesn’t work out this way and their wives rumble them with Stan’s substituting her coupons for his stash leaving him with steak dinner for five, including two good-time girls and their cabbie, in a dangerous night club.

Mr and Mrs Keaton
The main feature was Buster Keaton’s Our Hospitality (1923) the first of his features and a huge leap for comedy kind. Keaton used his budget to shift the legendary Canfield and McKay feud back to the 1830s and the early days of rail with miles of track laid for a ramshackle train pulled by a replica Rocket – preferred for comedic reasons to more historically-accurate locos. Buster plays young Willie McKay returning South to inherit his father’s “estate” only to find the Canfield family ready to avenge the death of one of their own at his father’s hands.

There’s an exception in the family view of Willie in Virginia (Natalie Talmadge who is quite good but lacks the spirit of Constance and the presence and technique of Norma) who invites him around for dinner. Only southern hospitality can prevent Old Joseph Canfield (Joe Roberts in his last film) and his sons from killing Willie and there’s a good deal of comedy business before Buster makes a break for it and ends up rescuing Virginia in an iconic scene at the falls. It’s a thrilling film with real drama added to the gags by one of the greatest comedy auteurs. We also get three generations of Keaton with Buster and Natalie’s baby boy as the young Willie and a trademark high kick from Joe Keaton at the railway station: he good knock a man down far easier with foot than fist!

Once again, The European Silent Screen Virtuosi joyfully accompanied with Günter A. Buchwald, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius filling the cavernous spaces with perfectly judged improvisations.

Train kept a rollin'... just!
There’s more to learn about even those we know the most and another key strand from this year’s festival was those less well-known but who were once stars. Of these none shone quote so bright as Marie Prevost, one of Lubitsch’s favourite American actresses who featured in three of his Hollywood films, The Marriage Circle (1924), Kiss Me Again (1925) – of which, sadly, only a trailer remains and Three Women (1924) in a long career. She started out as a Sennett bathing beauty – legs to die for and in some of the most iconic stills of the period – achieved stardom in the twenties and gradually faded into smaller roles in the thirties.

Michelle Facey introduced and provided all of these details and much more about the actress’ backstory. A show of hands showed at the start that most in the audience were indeed not familiar with Prevost outside of the silent film glitterati in my corner! She certainly impressed us all in On to Reno (1928) with a performance as Vera, a young desperate housewife, that showcased her ability to mix toughness and vulnerability with an emotional dexterity not a million miles from Clara Bow. In films like The Racket you see Prevost’s street smarts but here, whilst she suffers no fools, least of all under-achieving husband, Bud (Cullen Landis) who’s lack of drive is about to lose them their house, you see someone the audience would find very relatable.


Vera is offered a thousand dollars to stand in for one of her company’s divorce clients, who can’t be bothered to spend three months in Reno, to enable her to register the qualifying absence from husband, Herbert Holmes (Ned Sparks). Whilst this proposition is oddly sanctioned by her boss – the law is clearly different in the USA – it makes for a whole heap of misunderstandings and fast moving, door-slamming, naked swimming, mayhem ensues. It’s pre-pre-code but also proto-Ray Cooney farcical which leaves a smile as well as a laugh on your lips.

John Sweeney’s accompaniment amplified the action as usual and made sure we enjoyed the full Prevost.

I hope we see more of Marie’s films now and that the diligence of keepers of the flame like Michelle is rewarded with more recognition for Marie’s skills and star appeal. For those wanting to find out more about MP I can recommend Stacia Kissick Jones’s Marie Prevost Project on her site; She Blogged by Night – which is an interesting tale of film research in itself.

Lilyan and Monte share a drink
I missed Reno when the Bioscope screened it last year and I also missed their screening of Ernst Lubitsch’s So This is Paris (1926) which, again, was remis of me as it is as funny as any the director’s films from this period – for me anyway! Here again we had misunderstandings between two couples but with the added flare of the director’s unique use of visual signifiers to embellish the live actions. Mary Pickford, famously fractious with Ernst after Rosita, said that all he did was “direct doors” but as Kevin Brownlow said in his introduction, Lubitsch could direct doors better than most could direct people.

Thus it is that Suzanna (Patsy Ruth Miller), wife of Doctor Paul Giraud (Monte Blue), looks up from reading a racy novel about desert romance to see the naked chest of a “Sheik” across the road in a neighbouring apartment. It’s actor Maurice Lalle (Andre Beranger) who has just finished a rather unconvincing rehearsal with his wife Georgette (Lilyan Tashman, who impressed Greta Garbo very much in this film, so I’m told by KB’s MF…) who’s disenchantments are far broader when it comes to her hubbie… Things get very “Parisian” when Paul is despatched to tell the naked performer to tone it down, as the Doc and Georgette are old friends – possibly more than friends.

Andre and Patsy
There begins a four-way tangled web as Paul and Georgette renew their dancing partnership and Maurice attempts to sheik up Suzanna’s love life. Monte Blue makes for a superb drunk and cuts a pretty sharp Charleston as well. It’s all so perfectly balanced and timed and, as has been said, one of the most criminally overlooked Lubitsch films.

Accompaniment was from The European Silent Screen Virtuosi and I loved the precision of their extemporised standards Ain’t She Sweet and The Charleston. Surely Slapstick needs to review the unofficial – and, indeed, merely rumoured/made up – Ban on Dancing?!

Paris has a brief bit of young Myrna Loy as the Lalle’s maid and five year’s earlier Patsy Ruth Miller was an uncredited bit-part player in One A Minute from 1921; ever heard of it or it’s star Douglas Maclean?

Young Patsy Ruth Miller and Douglas Maclean
Maclean made 23 feature films and was a big star for most of the twenties with a mix of Harold Lloyd’s looks and his hero Douglas Fairbanks energy. As with the latter had made what he termed “straight comedies” in which he acted a role rather than played a persona with action gags thrown in. In One A Minute (1921) he plays Jimmy, returning home after finishing college to manage his late father’s drug store and meeting an attractive young woman en route, Miriam (Marian De Beck) who we just know will be important later on…

Jimmy finds the store on it’s uppers and about to be outcompeted by a new super-drugstore run by Silas P. Rogers (Andrew Robson) who is, you guessed it, Miriam’s dad. If only Jimmy’s father had completed his research into a cure-all powder… but, what the heck, Jimmy invents one anyway and somehow, his improvised panacea actually works! It’s frothy stuff but Maclean is eminently likeable and you can see why this star shone.

Accompaniment was from Maestro John Sweeney and he made Maclean, glean!

Paul and Serge were on fire!
As ever there were many delights to be found in the sessions and Serge Bromberg’s Retour de Flamme session literally featured flames with live action peril for Paul McGann as he was “volunteered” to hold a film cannister as Serge set fire to some nitrate film stock; it was alarmingly impressive showing how many lost films met their end on this unstable storage. Still, even a century or more on, Serge and his team, plus others supplying films for this year’s festival like Steve Massa (author of Slapstick Divas: The Women of Silent Comedy and Lame Brains and Lunatics: The Good, The Bad, and The Forgotten of Silent Comedy) and Ben Model (who’s Undercrank Productions releases rare and previously lost material), keep on finding and restoring.

Serge featured some Laurel and some Hardy before uniting the two on a restored Duck Soup (1927) when their magic combination was really starting to come into focus. My Granddad Jim Joyce loved the duo and I remember watching them with him: “watch these, they’re really funny!”.

Last word goes to David Robinson who not only met the boys but was also present at Charlie Chaplin’s last ever recording session as he put the music to Woman of Paris in the 1970s. He showed us Pay Day (1922) as well as The Idle Class (1921) two films made for First National that if not prime Chaplin certainly only by comparison with the quality of his major works. Both films showed Charlie’s social conscience and he doesn’t get credit these days for his political subtexts; he’s not so much sentimental as socialist.

Colourful Aimée 
David also showed us the work of John Bunny, one of the first American comedy stars with Bunny All at Sea (1909) and Bunny in Society (1909) which featured an uncredited appearance by Our Mabel Normand which almost made me stand up, shout and point! Mabs was magnetic and these two prints were in stunning quality.

Less well known is British actress Aimée Campton a popular stage actress who made films in France as the character Maud. We saw Les Charmes de Maud (1912) together with the recently unearthed Maud Clubman aka Maud and the Batchelors (1914) with Dan van den Hurk accompanying; another performer of real style to hold in our collective silent conscience.

Another splendid silent Slapstick with so much passion on view. See you next year Bristol and long may you screen!

You should also read PH's take over at Silent London - a ball was had by all!

Charlie and Edna

Friday, 24 January 2020

All kinds of funny… Slapstick Festival Day One, Bristol Watershed and Cathedral


They call it Slapstick and you may start the day laughing at a man diving through the Earth to China and finish it with another trying to escape marriage to a woman he thinks has a wooden leg but in between you are astonished by French Benshi and genuinely unable to watch the moment Emily Davison gave her life for Suffragism. Our sense of humour has always derived from concerns, compassion and need to collectively understand.

Here in one of England's most cinematic cities, people gather every year to laugh and, more importantly, to connect. I go to a lot of silent films screenings – yeah, obviously – but these are unique, this city responds in kind every year with sold out shows across the programme and with contributions from across the World.

This year Lobster Films supremo, Serge Bromberg brought so much to the party with restored and rare films fleshing out a fascinating mix of diverse comedies. He’s a pretty diverse man himself in terms of his talents and not only does he restore films he also plays accompaniment and today he provided live narration to Georges Méliès’ La fée Carabosse ou Le poignard fatal (1906) with John Sweeney on piano. It was a riot as Serge improvised off what script there was through twelve minutes of hand coloured Méliès madness involving a knight asking the titular witch for aid in rescuing his sweetheart from all manner of daft threats. Qui, nous connaissions le français Benshi et c'était magnifique!

A witch yes, but what is she thinking?!
Later in the day the tone was altogether more reflective in a discussion of Suffragettes in Silent Comedy with Lucy Porter and Samira Ahmed, moderated by Andrew Kelly. Lucy and Samira were the perfect blend of informed with their responses to the comic and journalistic context of these films – both fascinated by the response and social setting of these films that, regardless of their intent, were not only responding to, but helping to develop. Suffragism was a movement across class and sex, whilst most of the comedies on show were placed in very recognisable Edwardian middle-class South-East London, the newsreels showed the support from trades unions and men. As Jane Duffus – author of The Women Who Built Bristol 1184-2018 – said during the Q&A, many working class men did not have the vote as well.

We loved Chrissie White as Physical Culture Phyllis - in Wife the Weaker Vessel (1915) - see image at the top... and in Tilly and the Fire Engines (1911) with Alma Taylor – voted Britain’s favourite film star in 1915 by readers of Pictures and the Picturegoers,  14,000 votes ahead of Charlie Chaplin. But there was also extended footage of the 1917 Derby in which Emily Davison lost her life trying to pin a rosette onto the King’s Horse, the jockey, Herbert Jones was distraught and haunted by the episode through his life whilst the establishment perpetuated the myth of suicide and not political determination for the educated and brave Emily. In these times we do well to properly study history and the way that things happen and they are then portrayed; I loved this history session and its enquiring use of primary sources! That said, cross-dressing boy-girl Diddums Diddles the Policeman (1912) was wacked as anything and, yes Lucy, the moments when “she” shins up drainpipes and lampposts are indeed hard to unsee… still, do yourself a favour, it’s on BFI Player. Alot of these films are there and on the BFI's Make More Noise DVD.

Hard luck, Buster.
The day began with a screening of three top-tier Buster Keaton comedies with introductory expertise from Polly Rose, screen editor by day and Keaton PhD student by night (and day at the weekend no doubt!) accompanied by Guenter A Buchwald and Frank Bockius: nothing in January 2020 could be much finer! One Week (1920) and The Boat (1921) are sublime, laugh-a-foot-of-film-funny with that extra sprinkle of Sybil Seely but I’d never thought before that the latter was a sequel to the first? Of course now it’s obvious but… Hard Luck (1921) I’d never seen before and is not quite so perfect with Keaton playing off a string of unsuccessful suicide attempts the last of which was only recently recovered and which, he said, gave him the biggest laugh of his career, so much so that they had to delay the feature after it… I won’t spoil it and it’s another restoration care of Serge B.

Talking of whom, the Lobster restoration of Pierre Étaix’s Yoyo (1965) was a total surprise to me and proved to be not the mawkish clown-fest I’d cynically expected. Étaix’s film is so subtle and very smartly pays tribute to the silent era right through to the TV age of the sixties. Étaix plays father and son to cover the ground and the twenties section, with silence only punctuated by exaggerated sound effects was a delight. There was also a convicted murderer in the cast with huge ears and a long trunk… but we have to forgive elephants anything.

And so, to the grand finale and Bristol Cathedral in which, standing high in the pulpit, her expensive posh shoes out of view, Shappi Khorsandi preached to the converted on the subject of silent divas.

Love 'em both!
We started off with Mabel Normand marrying Rosco Arbuckle in Fatty and Mabel Adrift (1916), one of their most winsome films presented with lovely crisp visuals as John Sweeney and Frank Bockius rocked the massive acoustics. Mabs and Rosco are primal screen and both eternally funny, emotionally agile and genuine, they also knew how to fling themselves around physically for the sake of our good time.

By comparison, whilst Viora Daniel and Lillian Biron were definitely female, there was precious little slapstick from either in A Pair of Sexes (1921) in which some daft man accidentally nicks his neighbours twin babies. Still, Dan van den Hurk accompanied with vigour. Definitely diva was Dorothy Devore who made short work of the plot and other characters in Saving Sister Suzy (1921) in which she needs to dress like a child so as to give her sister a chance of winning the man; an odd premise but DD is comedy class!

Also definitely diva and totally slapstick was the remarkable Martha Sleeper in Sure-Mike! (1925), her only leading role according to Silent Diva expert Michelle Facey of the Kennington Silent Speakeasy. Skating at speed through crowded streets, riding on a driverless motorcycle and bravely providing physical comedy, Martha also had an ace face, tough and pretty with a perky presence you’d expect to have found more favour. One of the films and finds of the day!

Martha Sleeper - a Parker Posey for the Jazz Age?
Lastly, we had Charley Chase – definitely no lady although not immune from diva-esque behaviour! In His Wooden Wedding (1925), he shares an hilarious dance routine with Gale Henry – the inspiration for Olive Oil apparently – as he tries to displace a wedding ring from the back of her dress… How did it get there? Well, his best man tells him is intended has a wooden leg…

The European Silent Screen Virtuosi joyfully accompanied the last three with Günter A. Buchwald, Romano Todesco and Frank Bockius.

A full day and a splendid full-throated programme. Bring on tomorrow Bristol!