The Hounds of Love… Hippfest 2023 Day Four

I’m no expert but I reckon the best pace to appreciate an ovation, apart from the stage of course, is up in the gods, with a view of the stalls erupting with cheers and applause whilst all around you in the wide sweep of the second tier join in even as you find yourself whooping. At the best festivals the applause accumulates through the day as the feeling moves in the face of fascinating presentations and high-quality programming and we saw it today, from the genius of Charlie Chase at the start through revelations of early women animators to stunning Ukrainian documentary and onto one of the canon, the iconic gothic neo-horror of The Man Who Laughs.

Neil Brand, John Sweeney, researcher Mindy Johnson, Ukrainian players Roksana Smirnova and Misha Kalinin then finally Meg Morley and Frank Bockius built up a momentum of good will and, indeed, vibrations throughout this splendid Saturday that reached a crescendo at the end of Conrad Veldts’/Gwynplaine’s great escape – with the aid of his dog Homo of course; have there ever been so many heroic hounds on one screen? The Hippodrome is circular in construction, built when Picture Houses had yet to find a set design, and that’s perfect for the acoustic and emotional response that built high into the rafters as the evening closed, a swirling storm of appreciation under the concave roof.

The day had started with a classic one-two from Charley Chase with Dog Tired (1926) and the mighty Mighty Like a Moose (1927) a work of World-cultural significance. Charlie’s the white collar comic, as Neil Brand suggested, a Basil Fawlty figure who always trips himself up with his over elaboration and yet who wins us back with his charm and self-depreciation; he knows what a fool he’s been. Things also tend to work out for Charley, he gets the girl (Mildred June) thanks to the unlikeliest of coincidences in Dog Tired and even after trying to bath her intended groom, a rich but untrustworthy duke (Stuart Holmes) after confusing him with the dog, also called Duke.

Vivien Oakland and Charley Chase

In Mighty Like a Moose, Charley and his wife, Vivien Oakland, both get plastic surgery on the same day, he for his buck teeth and she for her nose. They bump into each other and, failing to recognise themselves, embark on an illicit flirtation which culminates with Charley having to pretend to have discovered his own interlope and battling himself for his wife’s honour in the bathroom. It’s meta and it’s hilarious.

I’m definitely in the doghouse for missing Rin-Tin-Tin in his debit feature, Where the North Begins (1923) but, to be honest, I prefer his later stuff… this did leave me refreshed for the revelations in Mindy Johnson’s talk about early women animators. This is ongoing research but it’s clear that women we as involved in this line of work as they were in the whole film industry in the teens and early twenties before male corporate oppression. The focus was on Bessie Mae Kelley who worked with and inspired the likes of Max Fleischer, Paul Terry and Walter Lantz, not to mention some young fella named Walt Disney. As ever the prime movers in collaborative enterprises like film are hard to untangle but without doubt Bessie Mae deserves recognition and more will come as Mindy’s research continues.

Next up we went to Ukraine for a poignant documentary In Spring (1929) based in an around a Kyiv during the punishing first of Stalin’s five year plans, not that you would know it from a film with a no-doubt propagandist remit. That said, filmmaker Mikhail Kaufman’s face-paced spectacle shows the people as much as the landscape and the industry and their spirit says everything both historically and in terms of the daily lives. The work is as hard as it ever was and yet there’s joy amongst the enterprise and cycle-riding, sometimes backwards too.

 

Kaufman was Dziga Vertov and had been cameraman on Man with a Movie Camera; here he shows the same deft touches, the ability to make connections and convey dozens of micro-narratives within an over-arching “symphony” of the city and surrounds. The angles are acute, the cutting highly-energised and the overall effect is remarkable.

 

The same can be said of the accompaniment from Ukrainian musicians Roksana Smirnova and Misha Kalinin who created a deceptively space soundscape interchanging leading lines between Roksana piano and Misha’s effects-laden guitar. The connection between the modern invention and the century old film not only served the traditional purpose of accompaniment but obviously re-contextualised the essential continuities of a society now under so much threat. A wondrous humanistic statement and Alison Strauss in her introduction once again found just the right words to capture our support and sympathy; this festival has some heart.

Promotional poster for In Spring

 

After some tea and cake – Scotland you’re treating me – we took our seats for today’s big finish and the combination of Conrad Veidt’s teeth, Mary Philbin’s sweetness and Olga Baklanova’s erm, everything guaranteed the entertainment, not to mention Zimbo the Dog who plays Homo, the Dog!

 

An American film about seventeenth century England, based on a French novel, starring one extraordinary German and directed by another, The Man Who Laughs is a truly international picture. Made at the peak of silent film technique it represents a Hollywood high-point of expressionist unease from Paul Leni, the man who directed Waxworks and The Cat and the Canary. It says much for contemporary sensibilities that audiences were attracted to the dark disturb of this tale. Connie plays Gwynplaine a man scarred for life from childhood by a group of travellers led by Dr Hardquanonne (George Siegmann) who specialised in cosmetic disfigurement in order to create oddities suitable for circus performers. In this case the latter’s brother and successor James II (Samuel de Grasse ) has ordered the mutilation as revenge on the boy’s father who has displeased him. The father, Lord Clancharlie, is mercilessly squished in the Iron Lady and the boy’s face will forever be locked in an horrific grin… laughing at his father’s betrayal… or some-such evil.

 

On paper it sounds daft as all get out but the film’s style and substance begins to work its uncanny rhythm and hope emerges as the boy, cast adrift even from his tormentors, rescues a blind baby from the bitter cold and finds sanctuary with an itinerant circus performer called Ursus (Cesare Gravina) who lives in a caravan with his pet wolf Homo. Now that’s a modern family!

 

Connie and Mary

The years pass and naturally Gwynplaine’s clown-face has made him the most popular clown in town – people just can’t help but laugh when they see his hysterical smile but, in spite of the gadgetry and painful false teeth he wore, Veidt’s eyes give so much more away: pain but also something more, his love for blonde, beautiful and blind Dea (Mary Philbin) who loves him back. But she has never seen his disfigurement nor felt his smile… Gwynplaine cannot believe that she would still love him if she knew what he actually looked like.

 

Gwynplaine’s father may be long gone but he has an inheritance and a peerage he knows nothing about.  The current beneficiary is one Duchess Josiana (Olga Baklanova – so good in von Sternberg’s Docks of New York and on fire in this film) who leads a life of carefree debauchery and expressive bathing as a servant’s key-hole view of her bathroom reveals. The Queen’s evil aid, Barkilphedro (Brandon Hurst having A Ball!), has found out that Gwynplaine is the rightful owner of the Duchess’ land: for her to retain her title and property she will need to marry him. The Queen orders his capture and immediate ennoblement…

 

A baddy, yesterday

Things are complicated by the Duchess Josiana’s response on seeing Gwynplaine’s show, she cannot decide whether to laugh or lust… there’s something more deeply intriguing about Gwynplaine’s unrelenting grin and she is determined to explore the possibilities.

 

The intrigue ramps up as Queen Anne appoints the clown to the House of Lords – I know! – and responsibility of state and political machinations once again threaten the happiness of all citizens… perhaps only Homo can save the day??

 

Meg Morley and Frank Bockius absolutely raised the bloody roof on this one with two hours of playful accompaniment with so much swing and propulsive charm – I love to hear their jazz sensibilities in this kind of endeavour and there’s was not a hit or a note out of place. Magnificent and everyone else in the room agreed with me!!

 

Bravo Hippesfest!

The Joker and Cat Woman… The Man Who Laughs (1927), Meg Morley Trio, 1901 Arts Club

On the day I pre-ordered the new Flicker Alley dual format release of the new 4k restoration of this film and The Final Warning, Paul Leni’s last two films, I went to see this screening in one of the capital’s most elegant venues. This highly-influential take on Victor Hugo’s featured accompaniment from the magnificent Meg Morley trio who provided richly-textured improvisations that brought out the best in this odd and very amusing film. Meg is classically-trained and a gifted jazz player and it’s fascinating to watch her silent sensibilities filtered through this genre and in also group setting.

Meg leads the group with striking confidence, especially as they were playing “sight unseen” – no preview, no rehearsal - this was an unfolding surprise for both them and us and it was full of warm, delightful chords as well as dynamic progressions. Meg also took a cushioned mallet – it could have been a duster - to the Club’s Steinway strings, before resuming the emphatic motifs with swing and silent swagger. But somebody stop me before I make like Jack Kerouac; I dug it OK?

The 1901 Arts Club is a compact long rectangle and the compact acoustics perfectly projected Meg’s piano, Richard Sadler’s bass and Emiliano Caroselli’s drums. The story is set in seventeenth century England but the music works absolutely by dipping into the jazz sensibilities of the late twenties as well as more modern textures. Most importantly and, as you’d expect from a Kennington Bioscope Alumnus, Meg allows the narrative to breath and the actors to shine, or, in the case of Olga Baklanova, positively burn… and, in the case of Herr Veidt, dazzle.

Olga smokes...

Original reviewers noted the Russian actresses astonishing Albedo but it’s hard not to give credit to the laughing man himself, Conrad Veidt who is acting with a huge prosthetic grin and still managing to convey more emotions with his eyes than most with a full face. The film was adapted from Victor Hugo’s durned weird novel in which a fallen aristocrat is disfigured as a child and somehow manages to rise once again despite his permanent grin. It’s said, that the film inspired Batman’s nemesis The Joker in which case Olga B might well have lain the ground work for Catwoman or, as she was originally known, The Cat… she’s certainly the, ahem, cat’s whiskers.

Having watched Leni’s Cat and the Canary the night before, it was interesting to see the director’s work and quite a few of the same performers – he was clearly hitting a great groove which makes his untimely death in 1929 all the more regretful. But whilst that Cat is a spooky mystery this one is an outright creepy comedy and it says much for contemporary sensibilities that audiences were attracted to its dark disturb.

Lokking through Conrad Veidt's eyes

Veidt plays Gwynplaine a man scarred for life from childhood by a group of travellers led by Dr. Hardquanonne (George Siegmann) who specialised in cosmetic disfigurement in order to create oddities suitable for circus performers. In this case, Charles II, and successor James II (Samuel de Grasse) has ordered the mutilation as revenge on the boy’s father who has displeased him. The father, Lord Clancharlie (Connie dashing not laughing) is mercilessly squished in the Iron Lady and the boy’s face will forever be locked in an horrific grin… laughing at his father’s betrayal.

It’s a brutal beginning but the film soon begins to work its uncanny rhythms and hope emerges as the boy rescues a blind baby from the bitter cold and finds sanctuary with an itinerant circus performer called Ursus (Cesare Gravina) who lives in a caravan with his pet wolf  Homo (Zimbo the Dog) …

Not the Meg Morley Trio

All grown up now and  Gwynplaine’s face has made him the most popular clown in town – people just can’t help but laugh when they see his hysterical smile but, in spite of the gadgetry and painful false teeth he wore, Veidt’s eyes give so much more away: pain but also something more, his love for blonde, beautiful and blind Dea (Mary Philbin, the Sheila Eaton to Olga’s Madonna, the Taylor to her Gaga etc…) who loves him back. But she has never seen his disfigurement nor felt his smile… Gwynplaine cannot believe that she would still love him if she knew what he really looked like.

But, as in all such tales, Gwyn’s past is still in front of him… Lord Clancharlie’s land and property was given to the family who betrayed him and so Laughing Boy has an inheritance and a peerage he knows nothing about.  The beneficiary is one Duchess Josiana (Olga B) who leads a life of carefree debauchery and expressive bathing as a servant’s key-hole view of her boudoir reveals.

The troupe travel to entertain the court of Queen Anne (Josephine Crowell) and, as their weird play proceeds, the crowd breaks into hysterics and yet daring Duchess Josiana cannot decide whether to laugh or lust; there’s something more deeply intriguing about Gwynplaine’s unrelenting grin.

She orders him to be brought to her chambers sending him a note from “the woman who did not laugh” neglecting to mention the reason why, although he soon finds out. Gwynplaine is impressed if only for the reason that if the Duchess can fancy him, then Dea may also… so he must let down her lustful ladyship.

Meanwhile the Queen’s aid, Barkilphedro (Brandon Hurst), has found out that Gwynplaine is the rightful owner of the Duchess’ land and for her to retain her title, she will need to marry him. The Queen orders his capture and immediate ennoblement.

Can Gwynplaine escape from his new-found position, refuse his Queen’s instruction and go in search of Dea all the while turning down the desirous Duchess? Knowing Victor Hugo, you’d have to say not but this is Hollywood and the unexpected is always possible if not probable.

Mary Philbin with Zimbo The Dog

It’s a splendid romp with Leni making light of the convoluted plot and playing for drama and laughs in equal measure. The cast are exemplary even though poor Mary Philbin often gets overlooked in favour of the dynamic duo: The Joker and The Cat.

You can now pre-order the new 4k restoration from Flicker Alley and the film comes in dual format with a new score form Sonia Coronado, along with the original Movietone and stack of extras including an essay from our own Kevin Brownlow and a visual essay by John Soister on Leni's work at Universal during this period. There's a trailer here - it looks dynamic and so clear.

For further Southbank Silents screenings follow them on the Twitter @SouthbankSilent  and the 1901 Arts Club on the web-thingy.

There's that Steinway, just waiting to be played...