The face that launched a thousand takes… Helen and the Fall of Troy (1924), Edition Filmmuseum DVD

“As a spectacle carrying the imprint of truth and realism it would make DW Griffith sit up and consider his laurels, while the acting has never been bettered from the … leads to the tiniest small part.” Variety, 1925

Turns out a poem paints some 219 minutes on celluloid. Director Manfred Noa’s epic was released a few months before Fritz Lang’s 288-minute Die Nibelungen and yet is little remembered a century on. This is no doubt due to its being largely absent from archives until the discovery of an almost complete copy in Lausanne, Switzerland enabled this 1999 restoration including materials from archives in Rome, Madrid and Moscow. The film was a box office hit but nearly bankrupted Noa’s studio, Bavaria Film based in Munich a financial world away from UFA which was founded two years before in 1917. The company still makes films – unlike UFA – but many of its earliest efforts are lost, including Hitchcock’s The Mountain Eagle – and this film, along with Noa’s equally epic, Nathan der Wiese (1922), are two of the few survivors.

There are many beautiful shots, a cast of thousands, stunning battles scenes and a dirty great big wooden horse and yet the film kept on reminding me of the Italian epic style from ten years earlier; lots of almost static tableaux, albeit on an epic scale and with some fine montages and in-camera trickery, yet without the fluidity of Lang or other contemporaries. That said, this is an engaging film and one that pays due diligence to Homer’s source poem as adapted by Hans Kyser. The acting is perfectly attuned too as Variety noted, and is stylised to a consistent degree with the contemporary view of this ancient myth with its prefiguring of Teutonic gothic – these are people driven by ancient laws and codes of honour… and look where that gets you?

A gift from the Greeks

The film is split into to two parts Der Raub Der Helena (The Abduction/Rape of Helen) and Der Untergang Trojas (The Ruin of Troy) and scrupulously follows the twists and turns of Homer’s poem.

The holy dove of Aphrodite brings you the crown of myrtle… Oh Queen, you are the chosen one for the Festival of Adonis.

It starts off, as so many things do, on the island of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, as Adonis, god of spring, releases a dove to find the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. With all good intention, the clever bird flies to Sparta and the Island of Menelaus, the King of the Greeks, to gift the crown to Helen, his wife here played by the Italian actress, Edy Darclea, strong featured with roman nose and statuesque form. Helen is faithful to her husband and King (Friedrich Ulmer) but he’s too proud of her and wants the World to acclaim her beauty at the Festival of Aphrodite. The tale of Mr and Mrs Menelaus is the story’s beginning and end and I once saw a really visceral performance of Euripides’ play Helen at the Globe Theatre with Penny Downie as Helen and Liverpool’s Paul McGann as a battle-weary Menelaus trying to understand and reconcile with his wife after all that is still to come in Noa’s film… which, clearly, I should have watched first.

Edy Darclea and Friedrich Ulmer

Meanwhile, over on Troy, King Priam (Albert Steinrück) also seeks favours of the gods, nervously asking for guidance from the Oracle before allowing his city to celebrate the spring. High up in the hills sits a lonely goatherd  shepherd playing two flutes at the same time as he simultaneously invents prog-jazz and glam rock with a look best described as Marc Bolan meets Jethro Tull via Siouxsie Sioux’s hairdresser. It is Paris (Russian actor/exile, Vladimir Gajdarov later to feature in Michel Strogoff in 1926), who is no mere farm boy but the youngest son of Priam brought up in ignorance of his royal blood.

Things get seriously psychedelic as Paris is visited in a dream by the god Hermes who gives him a golden apple to award to the most beautiful of the three goddesses he is about to see in visions; Here “goddess of goddesses”, Athena “goddess of wisdom” and Aphrodite, “goddess of love” who offers him the love of the most beautiful woman on Earth… naturally, he gives the apple to contestant number three and our course is set: love over wisdom and glory. He resolves to journey to the festival in Troy where he will sacrifice his finest bull in tribute to Aphrodite, as, indeed, you would.

He'll toot his flute for you Helen... Vladimir Gajdarov

Meanwhile Other Gods deliver a spoiler/warning to King Menelaus, saying that if he loses the love of his Queen, all of Greece will spend years fighting to get her back. I can snark away but these tales were a way of people understanding why things happened and what caused misfortune and, whilst the gods may well have offered choices it is always Man’s folly of interpretation and judgement that leads to tragedy. In this respect, absolutely nothing has changed in terms of our need to ascribe the twists and turns of life to external forces… there almost certainly was a war involving Greece and a city like Troy – sometime between 1260 to 1180 BC, and by the time of Homer – himself a bit of a legend, either a single author or many hands - around the late eighth or early seventh century BC, these events had passed into myth and fable.

High quality visions from Manfred Noa

Back in 1924, Noa injects huge spectacle into his narrative with thousands of extras taking part of the Festival of Spring on a huge set, lavish enough to rival those of Griffith and DeMille. Paris arrives pulling his sacrificial bull only for Hera to send a cyclone to Troy outraged at having been passed over for Aphrodite… Troy’s protector, Athena, demands that Priam sends his son Hector (Carl de Vogt) to sail beyond the sea to Hera’s sanctuary yet they decide on Paris instead, angering Athena and forcing the put-upon Oracle, Aisakos (Albert Bassermann) to forecast the very worst for the King and his dynasty. More spoilers…

Meanwhile Helen, after having been afforded a glimpse of Paris from her own Oracle, heads to the Feast of Adonis on the island of Cythera where there’s even greater spectacle with a chariot race of similar scale to the following year’s Ben Hur. Here we find Achilles in the muscular form of Carlo Aldini, eventually contesting for the chance to be awarded the winners wreath by the beauteous Helen. It’s a superb set piece with camera’s mounted on chariots in a purpose-built arena around which stunt men and many horses pull round the tightest of bends. Achilles wins but the men fight over Helen but eventually agree to stand together to defend her and the honour of Greece.

Achilles pushing Menelaus hard on the outside lane...

Now that promise is going to be important as Helen, after a gratuitous bath scene, is escorted from a distraught Menelaus by Achille’s and sets off to the Island of Adonis, where she will meet the god of desire and gym clubs, who’s statue looks exactly the same as Helen’s dream man. Following shortly afterwards is Paris, who, under Aphrodite’s protection, has survived the worst that Poseidon can throw at his ship, arriving at the island just in time to meet his promised love. The two share a night of highly consensual shame, but what else can they do with the gods conspiring along with two Kings whose pride is coming well before a fall.

The island of Adonis

Anyway, Paris smuggles Helen back to Troy and he finally learns the truth of his royal heritage as he meets his brother Hector. The two witness Helen calming two lions – take that Gloria “One Lion” Swanson - clearly the Aphrodite is keen on this gal.

Kneel and kiss her robes, this woman has been granted wondrous powers!

Troy rejoices at the new arrival and King Priam believes that she has released him from the curse of the gods… and he throws Aisakos into the deepest dungeon when he begs to differ, the oracle suggesting that she will bring only death and destruction. Helen decides to stay with her new love and people after King Menelaus arrives with Agamemnon, King of the Greeks, and their troops. This leads to battle and finally Paris leads Troy to victory, the former shepherd showing a perhaps surprising level of strategic prowess and combat technique. He has won a battle but the war is only just beginning…

Paris inspired!

Part Two tells the story of the ensuing long siege of Troy as the Greeks throw everything they have at Helen’s new protectors. Within the walls, Prince Hector finds himself drawn to Helen who in her turn, reciprocates as things turn slightly sour with an increasingly disaffected and unheroic Paris. Without, Achilles and his extraordinary temper, prevent him from getting involved until his dear friend Patroclus is killed by Hector which drives him into a super heroic fury. It’s interesting how the film portrays the two men’s relationship – a very deep friendship which can easily be interpreted as a sexual one.

But even Achilles cannot swing the war on his own and some cunning is going to be required to break the deadlock. Cue the Horse!

Achilles and Menelaus allied

The film is one to relax into and retains many of the over-elaborations of the source mythology p- those gods just move in mysterious and contradictory ways. The characters are also full of conflicting emotion and this is interesting in itself, Paris doesn’t really have the heroic story arc we expect and Helen does not find him to be her one true love, returning at the end to Menelaus. The King of Sparta learns humility perhaps for letting his Queen enter the beauty pageant on Cythera whilst King Priam learns that you can’t beat fate; naturally the eventual defeat of Troy had to have a ret-conned celestial explanation.

The hyper emotionalised tale of various loves and passions would have been a natural fit for a Germany in need of understanding its own fall and also in need of vicarious shows of sexuality, love and glory. Helen’s a winner in any age in that respect.

Paris and Helen share a moment not of love but of shame?

Manfred Noa’s direction is highly competent if not original and his sense of scale is still amazing aided by his two cameramen, Ewald Daub and Gustave Preiss. It looks grand and at the end you almost feel like you’ve lived that long war with these eternal characters and you really hope that Helen and her Menelaus will head into a quieter life… for that seek out Euripides’ play.

I watched the Edition Filmmuseum double DVD set which is available direct from their site.

 Bonus eye candy!

A message from… Michel Strogoff (1926) with John Sweeney, British Silent Film Festival

The closing film on Day Two of the British Silent Film Festival and some of us were starting to flag and – in my case – were staring down the barrel of a lat-night return South down the M1… but, cometh the hour, cometh the film with its extraordinary star and cometh too the unfailing hands of Iron John Sweeney.

Michel Strogoff is one of the most famous products of the Russian ex-patriot community in French cinema and it is surprisingly hard to find making tonight’s screening a must-see or rather a Moz-see.

The Tartars

It is a film of scale and splendour which is lifted above the norm by extended sequences in Pathecolor – stencilled highlights over the dancers’ dresses in the ballroom sequence in the Tsar’s palace and then another truly stunning sequence as the Tartar forces mass at camp for the brutal entertainment of Allah’s judgement… it’s as if you are there; you can almost smell the burning flesh…

Director Viktor Tourjansky filmed across Europe from the palaces of France, the snows of Norway and down to Latvia where 6000 extras helped create the battles scenes and the Tartar camp. He took full advantage of the budgetary freedom allowed by the new affiliation  of Cine-France-Film with the German-led West production company.  The result was one of the few films of the period that really could truly match Hollywood scale.

Another was being filmed at the same time in the Billancourt studios and once Tourjansky had completed his effort he helped with Gance’s filming of Napoleon’s Toulon battle.

Their massed cavalry charge their horses across battle fields blurred by the speed of advance as quick cuts are made to pick up the human aspects of the slaughter; as with Napoleon this is not a film you can take likely, it’s at you from start to finish propelled by the unique intensity of its lead.

Ivan Mosjoukine

Jules Verne’s original story sounds true to his form: a time-limited chase featuring one man’s attempt to deliver a message from his Tsar to Irkutsk a city cut off by the Tartar advance. The telegraphs have all been cut and Michel must travel incognito using trains and boats across the plains making friends and beating enemies along the way. The story turns on an unlikely (but just possible) physiological event but the Russian’s present this moment as high drama and the improbable becomes powerfully cinematic.

Surrounded by the Tartars

 The story had an unique appeal for many of the crew who had seen their mother country overrun by a group with an incomprehensible agenda – to them at least. The fact that the Tartars had not enjoyed any kind of substantial military success against the Tsars for centuries is almost beside the point… the story needed an internal threat to show the benevolence of the Tsarist regime; a culture of honour and natural comradeship founded on respect for the Nation and its God-given monarch (I don’t recall Alexander II being especially benevolent…).

Acho Chakatouny

But let’s not let politics get in the way of a rollicking adventure especially one so rich in characters: the traitor Ivan Ogareff (Acho Chakatouny) is given to villainous excess it’s true but is also a very human hate-figure - Chakatouny plays his hero as a man wronged by his state who has the abilities but not the loyalty of a hero.

Nathalie Kovanko

 Love-interest Nadia Fedor (Nathalie Kovanko) is no mere adornment and it is only through her help that Michel has any chance of prevailing; she’s smart, quick to action and as determined as the men. Strogoff’s mother Maria (of course…) is similarly empowered and Jeanne Brindeau plays her with nobility and intelligence: what a pairing she and her son make – unyielding and bound by a love as strong as national pride.

Jeanne Brindeau

Marie-Louise Vois is also super as Zaugara the Tartar Mata Hari and Ogareff’s left-hand woman she can dance, dance and be a villain too… Other amusing stereotypes are available in the form of Daily Telegraph writer Harry Blount (Henri Debain) – a whiskery notepad scribbler for the status quo (they haven’t changed much have they?) and his French counterpart Alcide Jolivet (Gabriel de Gravone).

Vladimir Gajdarov makes Tzar Alexandre is far more likeable than I expected him to be whilst Boris de Fast Tartar leader Féofar-Khan is a superb creation of make-up encrusted malevolence: his evil runs so deep he seems almost serene and yet it's only ever a micro-second from boiling to the surface as he selects random vengeance from God.

Boris de Fast

Micolas Kougoucheff also features as General Kissoff who I just had to mention... no sign of Generals Sodoff or Clearoff though.

But, it’s all about Ivan who portrays a model of disciplined heroism with a twinkle in his eye that not only speaks of his wit but also his weakness. His Strogoff is not someone who can go about his triumphs in a way that makes them seem inevitable he gets stuck in even when he seems to be losing and, indeed, to have lost. What’s more, his victories are not achieved without the help of others…

 He fights off dozens of attackers on a ferry only to be struck down into the water where he makes it to shore and is saved by the kindness of an old man. In his delirium he sees himself in neo-classical torment – barely clothed and assailed by all kinds of monsters only to be saved by the two women in his life. Later he’ll look just like St Sebastian in seeming defeat to the Tartans…

Strogoff is knocked down more times than Rocky by Apollo Creed yet still gets up for one final fight with his nemesis Ogareff which is so much more than a standard silent scrap, the two push each other all over the screen and you’re not sure who the winner is until the very last as one after the other staggers out seemingly in victory…

Sightless in the snow

If we felt slightly exhausted watching all of this, spare a though for tonight’s pianist. Mr Sweeney set about his work with Mousjoukine-levels of energy and invention. His playing was impressively full-blooded and certainly contained doses of Russian that I wasn’t quite able to identify. This melodic engagement with the film must be very hard to maintain and yet he was still as fresh after the three hours: that my friends is the business of show and, indeed, entertainment! Salute Comrade Sweeney!

For such a major work – flawed but sprawlingly-brilliant – it is surprising that this reconstruction (from 2007?) is not available on DVD along with the Albatross output from many of the contributors. All we have is a VHS transfer that collectors swap amongst themselves, passed from hand-to-hand in the darker corners of bars from Omsk to Ormskirk and Irkutsk to Ipswich…

Come on, The Man, there’s money to be made in these digital disc sales!?

Sound and vision

 I drove back down the darkened motorway coffee and calories at the ready but uplifted by the show – I’d left the party halfway through but happy with all I’d seen – yes, even you, Three Live Ghosts with your soviet ret-con nonsense. Next year all four days!