Lloyd George knew The Father… Hearts of the World (1918), BFI with John Sweeney

It was time to get involved and the man who had essayed so emphatically on the nature of nationhood and the need to fight for tolerance, was the obvious choice. I was braced for the worst after skimming some received wisdom but, you know what, this was a film relatively without artifice: propaganda straight from the heart which was genuinely engaging and packed full of passionate performances from DW’s first team.

The battlefield sequences were stunning and reminded me of the glimpses of actual conflict in Malins and McDowell’s Battle of the Somme. The sequences were shot mostly in 1917 on Salisbury Plain using forces already entering their fourth year of fighting and as with the soldiers in Gance’s J’Accuse some of these men would have returned to the front and never come home again.

The battle scenes were mostly filmed in Britain

Billy Bitzer does his usual top-notch job and there was also a contribution from Alfred Machin (director of the ground-breaking Damn the War) for some of the French sequences (Herr Bitzer being less than welcomed in this particular theatre...).

Machin filmed the French trenches

Lillian Gish later said that Griffith was ashamed of the film and his demonisation of the Germans – he hated war itself and not the combatants - but, is there a figure here as caricatured as say Silas Lynch in Birth of a Nation or Captain Butler in America? This was a story made to order for the state – it was there to serve a purpose and to mobilise civilian sympathies thousands of miles across the Atlantic. Maybe Griffith felt it was too much like taking to arms?

By appointment to Lloyd George

The British government has instigated the project and there’s even a precious introduction showing Prime Minister Lloyd George shaking hands with Griffith on the steps of 10 Downing Street – can you imagine Tony Blair or David Cameron doing the same with Katherine Bigelow?

The Boy and The Girl

Lillian Gish was also to regret making the film (more so than Birth?) and when a member of the isolationist America First Committee during the Second World War, she wrote the apologetic I Made War Propaganda… Let’s not go there Lil… but she is never-the-less excellent in Hearts. It’s easy to forget that this was before she had finished establishing herself. She was excellent in many Biograph shorts, Birth and rocked that cradle really well in Intolerance but only showed her singular fluency with Susie, East, Blossoms and beyond. This film was undoubtedly a major stepping stone on the road to this pre-eminence.

Dorothy disrupts

By the same token, just as Constance Talmadge almost stole the show with sheer comic exuberance in Intolerance, another “younger sister” Dorothy is the stand-out light relief here. Those saucy snippets in Nell Gwyn came rushing back to haunt me as I watched her stomp through her scenes, poking all the boys, winking and pulling faces: happy, energised contortions the mirror of Lillian’s gentle miseries and elegant desperation.

If the 'tache fits... Bobby Harron

A tip of the helmet should also go to Robert Harron, another Griffith regular, who acts as L Gish’s love interest (not that D Gish didn’t try) and the central embodiment of cross-channel courage and fortitude. Mr Harron hardly ever seems to be without a moustache (even in Judith…) but here he wears it well and shows why the director placed such store in his abilities. A sprinkling of Harrons also appear as extras: DW believed in keeping it in the families.

Writing in the mid-seventies, Griffith biographer Edward Wagenknecht said that Hearts “is the hardest of all his major productions to evaluate fairly today” but I’m not sure that’s the case,  especially after last year’s centenary of the Great War but also because the atrocities have never stopped happening and now everything is televised. The terror is with us and we want to believe that good will out and that there is a point in fighting and sacrifice.

The Boy with his brothers

Hearts is about the civilians caught up in conflict and its focus is as much on the non-combatants’ struggle to survive – children, parents, wives and lovers – as the military process. On the latter score, you certainly feel part of a genuine conflict and one that has its own brutal rules of organisation, be it the Allies ebb and flow attack over each trench to the beleaguered village to the large-scale mechanics of the trench and field.

The story is centred in a French village in which two American families have settled. The eldest son of one family, The Boy (Robert), is in love with the daughter of a the other, The Girl (Lillian) with the pastoral peace only occasionally interrupted by the antics of The Little Disturber (Dorothy). Years before the current vogue for the media of “disruption” Dorothy was out there; she could have worked in PR or even marketing...

The three stars

TLD flirts with every living thing, especially The Boy, but he’s only really got eyes for The Girl. The Gishes boss the film with their charisma and evident deep preparation. Lillian and DW gave Dorothy a walk they’d spotted for her character - nothing is left to chance with acting crafted from the feet upwards. Further proof of that is in evidence with Lilian’s physicality in True Heart Susie but here she is not only holding herself differently she is more fuller faced and, for want of a better word, womanly: how did she do that!?

War comes and there’s a reconstructed session at the (Hollywood) Houses of Parliament as the fateful days wind down to kick off when the action shifts to France as the community’s world is ripped apart, The Boy joins the army and the Germans steamroller through Belgium across Northern France and into the Village.

Has the Boy been lost?

Who will survive? The film is smart enough to balance the causalities… there is an especially horrific death for The Boy's father - and leaves us in hope and fear right until the end.

The Hun and The Girl

The Germans… I’ve seen worse (cinematically) and the presence of an immaculate Erich von Stroheim adds a touch of authenticity: the right clothes, carriage and demeanour. The chief officer is called Von Strohm (George Seigmann) which is slightly confusing... he is horrible.

The Brits… in addition to the PM and his Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey, a host of London’s aristo agreed to appear as extras in the film as well other notables. How many films can carry the credit: Noël Coward as The Man with the Wheelbarrow?

Noel skilfully avoiding typecasting with his wheelbarrow...

The narrative is well paced and winds up to the usual multi-tracked jeopardy Griffith invented/mastered so well: you know what’s happening but you can’t stop being affected by it. Set the controls for the edge of your seat as the Brits are driven back by mustard gas, the French advance is reversed and The Girl and the Boy look doomed as they are trapped between two sets of desperate Huns. The Girl urges The Boy to take her life and his and there seems no way out… can anyone save them?

The Girl loses her mother...

Hearts of the World is over two hours long and yet it fairly zipped along greatly helped by Mr J Sweeney’s tireless improvisations on piano. The film has a rhythm that involves both player and audience and John adeptly plugged into this, inserting so many rewarding textures and lines around the core beats. His enjoyment was transmitted and the select and very well-informed audience responded in kind.

You want a little disturbance!?!

So, in conclusion, a film clearly made on the roll from The Big Two of 15/16 and a more nuanced propaganda piece than even its author felt post production. Hearts was very successful released into the final six months of the war and no doubt helped to bolster support for America’s European intervention: a war that had to be won and could so easily have been lost with or without US intervention.

The film is available but not as it should be. There's no "official" DVD release yet you can see a version on YouTube and the Internet Archive - neither is as good as the print we watched and it deserves better.

Griffith’s Gate… America (1924), BFI with Costas Fotopoulos

"You say you want a revolution…?” This film had its genesis in a letter from the Daughters of the American Revolution to Will Hays asking why there hadn’t been any major films about their revolution. This sounded wholesome enough for Mr Hays and strings were duly pulled resulting in this, what surely has to be the politest film about the war of independence.

America portrays the oppressors as a mix of mercenary Native Americans and home grown renegades led by a malevolent officer with a lust for power: Captain Butler (a quite superb performance from Lionel Barrymore). The version that was projected at the BFI seems to be the “British cut” which was toned down for domestic audiences and re-titled Love and Sacrifice. We do get the “no taxation without representation” part but the worst aspects of the war, civilian massacres and scorched earth, are attributed to rogue elements.

Neil Hamilton and Carol Dempster share a lobby card

But… let’s not go all historical or I’ll be on this for days. Needless to say, George Washington’s acceptance and return of the – surrendering – General Cornwallis's sword did not actually happen as the Brit refused to meet formally with Washington, or to attend the ceremony of surrender… Sore losers as it turned out.

The film cost United Artists around a million dollars and, whilst it didn’t do for them what Michael Cimino managed with Heaven’s Gate, it curtailed Griffith’s ability to undertake projects of similar scale in future. As with that later film, there are passages that don’t always fit the pace, as if something is still missing but the version projected was some 175 minutes long and is as close to the full-Monty we’re likely to see. I wouldn’t say it’s as good as Heaven’s Gate, but it has some stunning sequences.

Billy Bitzer is on camera to help record some full-scale battle scenes adding his own flourishes as riders are silhouetted against a dusky sky, troops advance under a dawning sun and Bunker Hill is viewed through the rigging of a British man of war. There are also a number of moments when the camera rides amongst the charging soldiers – Abel Gance was almost certainly watching – and over rough terrain when the cavalry attacks – mounted on another horse perhaps?

Bitzer's camera tracks the men and horses over battlefields

The war scenes are worth the price of entry alone and Griffith went to great pains in representing the battles of Lexington, Concord and Bunker Hill. He may have had a cast of thousands rather than the tens of thousands for Birth  and Intolerance but he makes good use of them building genuine tension using his individual heroes in his usual contrapuntal way. The closing sequence sees the rebels riding hard to rescue a beleaguered fort housing their women and children. They are distracted by a skirmish with British troops before they can ride onto the fort, Griffith cuts to individual struggles and reactions, slowly people are killed and the forts begins to give way; there’s no way the rescuers can make it is there?

Carol Dempster: not Lillian but not bad either

Those individuals have often been criticised and none more so than Carol Dempster who, whilst not being Lillian Gish (a many dozens have pointed out), is Miss Nancy Montague the daughter of the loyalist Justice Montague (Erville Alderson). On this evidence I thought Carol did a swell job and it is not her acting that gets in the way of on-screen chemistry with the dashing Nathan Holden (Neil Hamilton: how good looking was Commissioner Gordon in his youth?!), it’s the story-sprawl. Then again: I believed it and realistically, it’s hard to play the American Revolution as a romance.

Brilliant Lionel Barrymore

Charles Emmett Mack is interesting as Nancy’s brother Charles a sword-wielding playboy who won’t shirk from the fight when he sees injustice for himself; he joins the rebel fight and bravely gives his life as, mortally wounded, he crawls across the battle field to hand his comrades some desperately needed gunpowder: the kind of vignette Griffith excelled at and it is well-acted.

The aforementioned Barrymore is the undoubted star performer and his centered theatrical expertise blasts most of the rest of the screen as some over-emote and generally gurn either as over-enthused baddies or misplaced comic relief.

Louis Wolheim gets mean as Capt. Peter Hare

There is some truth to his character - a native New Yorker who trained and practiced as a lawyer and became an Indian agent for the King.  This legal training did not seem to instil adherence to the concept of justice and he was indeed amongst the most hated loyalist of the region especially after his role in the 1778 Cherry Valley massacre in which a mixed force of Loyalists, British soldiers, Seneca and Mohawks under his command killed some 30 settlers, mostly women and children.

The Rebels battle through snow and flame

In the film, he is the focus for revolutionary sentiment – the taxation thing is all well and good but here’s the cutting edge of colonial brutality - leading his cartoon band of baddies into action and fuel-injecting the rebel cause as the film builds to a climax.

The scenes of the “loyalist” mercenaries attacking women and children still shock and, when they break down the fort’s outer wall, the ensuing assault on these innocents is uncomfortable to watch… maybe not so “polite” after all…

Massive set piece conflagrations abound!

America is nearly three hours long and it is tribute enough to DW that it doesn’t feel that long. Yes there were a lot of lengthy title cards and some uneven pacing but there were dramatic sweeps the equal of any contemporary in the rapidly-changing cinema of the early twenties. Some reviews of the time complained the Griffith was getting dated but isn’t that always the way when someone has been so ground-breaking – so vital… Innovation is subject to diminishing returns as others pick up, learn and refine and even the most brilliant of artists cannot maintain the same momentum. You get the feeling that DW needed time and more sympathetic collaborators – off screen – to really move on…

A tip of the hat too goes to Costas Fotopoulos who played along with remarkable energy and invention: he played a major part in helping us re-connect with the spirit of Griffith’s enterprise: bold, ambitious and with hands of steel!

The Red Man's View (1909)

Before the main film, we saw a very interesting short The Red Man's View from 1909, which showed a different side to Griffith the patriot and southern gentleman. Here he deals with the impact of the white man’s expansion on native cultures. The Indians are cruelly pushed off their land even though their chief looks close to death. The white men aim to keep young Minnewanna (Mary’s sister Lottie Pickford) but finally relent after the chief’s death and the pleading of her sweetheart Silver Eagle and (Owen Moore - Mary’s future husband).

It’s a poignant study and underplayed enough to let the audience draw their own conclusions about the film maker’s sympathies…

Lottie second left... Owen Moore in the middle, I think?

The BFI’s Griffith season continues throughout June culminating in those massive blockbusters the paved the way for tonight’s main film, Griffith’s last really big moment...

Promotional poster showing America's spectacular sequences

Father’s Day… Judith of Bethulia (1914), BFI with Wendy Hiscocks

The Variety reviewer was awestruck: "It is not easy to confess one's self unequal to a given task, but to pen an adequate description of the Biograph's production of 'Judith of Bethulia' is, to say the least, a full grown man's job." …  cripes: am I “man enough” to blog this one?

Today was DW day at the BFI at the start of their month-long season celebrating “Cinema’s Great Pioneer” which will include screenings of all his major works including a tie-in with UCL’s three-day conference on Birth of a Nation: the Father of Cinema celebrated, just two Sundays before Father’s Day… Really BFI, you could have waited!

David Llewelyn Wark Griffith, probably not a descendant of  Rhys ap Gruffydd...

As befits a man little known for brevity, the day started with Kevin Brownlow and David Gill’s three part documentary covering the life and career of the man our Charlie called “the teacher of us all”. DW Griffith: Father of Film, narrated by Lindsay Anderson, included precious interviews with Lillian Gish and Blanche Sweet, who were to feature later, along with cinematographers Karl Brown and Stanley Cortez.

The series documents Griffith’s relatively humble background on a farm – not quite the southern aristocrat he later made himself out to be: “descended from the Kings of Wales…” me too mate! He was a self-made man, self-taught with his school-teacher sister’s help and this makes his achievements all the more remarkable:  as with Chaplin he clearly had exceptional native intelligence and supernatural energy.

Lillian reaches out in The Battle at Elderbush Gulch

There are in-depth appraisals of his blockbusters and the almost unbroken run of success up to Orphans of the Storm (Lillian had me on the verge of tears yet again…) and then his attempts to replicate that success over the next decade. A decline marked by the emergence of new wave of silent-sophisticates such as Lubitsch, Vidor and Von Stroheim.

DW examining the rushes from Abraham Lincoln

But you know, decline is always far worse when viewed retrospectively – from the vantage point of ultimate failure and there are some films such as America and Lincoln that are worthy of deeper investigation.

With scarcely time to grab a sandwich, it was on to the actual films with three fascinating samples of early DW…

The Adventures of Dollie (1908)

A still from Dollie... no where near as clear as the print we saw!

This was Griffith’s first film as a director and was an amazing print: 107 years old and looking as fresh as yesterday! Gypsy tries to steal from a young mother and after being forced away by her husband takes revenge by abducting their daughter. The mean travellers hide her in a barrel which falls off the back of their cart and sails home along the river… NO children were harmed in the making of this film (probably).

The Battle at Elderbush Gulch (1913)

The calm before the storm... but they did say "no dogs!"

The print quality here was not so good but it showed how far DW had come in the five years since his debut. There’s a battle in a besieged log cabin that prefigures the same in Birth of a Nation. This time the aggressors are Native Americans upset over the killing of the chief’s son. Now, personally I think they gave up on negotiations far too soon but then again, the young man was killed in an argument over whether or not he could eat two dogs belonging to the settlers.

The owner of the dogs was Mae Marsh who eventually emerges as the hero by rescuing Lillian Gish’s baby amidst the smoke and cross-cutting fury of the battle itself. Robert Harron, another Griffith regular, plays Lillian’s heroic husband wearing the kind of moustache often seen on Brookside in the late 1980’s.

Judith of Bethulia (1913)

Blanche Sweet

Marsh, Gish and Harron all re-appear in the main course, Griffith’s first four-reel film made when the director was upping his game in response to long-from competition from Europe and the Italians in particular; Quo Vadis, The Last Days of Pompeii et al.

Biblical stories gave directors more freedom of “expression” and there’s certainly a good deal of passion in this tale from exotic dancers to Judith herself (Blanche Sweet) who spends most of the time breathing in and stretching her arms up wide as she contemplates the manly charm of Assyrian Prince Holofernes (a barely-recognisable Henry B. Walthall) and what she must do to him…

The "Little Colonel" has a wee dram...

There’s also a wonderfully camp turn from J. Jiquel Lanoe as the Prince’s Eunuch Attendant and a dance troop led by Gertrude Bambrick who provides considerable distraction to the viewer if not their jaded leader.

Mae Marsh plays a young woman called Naomi who is in love with a warrior called Nathan (Robert Harron - still with that same ‘tache!) and looks years older than in the previous film. There’s an interesting comment from Lillian Gish in the documentaries about being cast as the “young girl” in Broken Blossoms; she reckoned she was too old and that they should have given the job to an actual girl “they always look five year’s older on screen” (except perhaps Mary P!). Mae Marsh was 19 at the time of filming both.

Mae Marsh thinks about irrigation techniques...

 Naomi and Nathan’s lives are turned upside down when the Assyrians attack and lay siege to their city of Bethulia. Naomi is carted off to the enemy camp whilst Nathan takes to arms as the city tries to fight off the invaders. The city walls remain intact but there is precious little water and food and the enemy will surely only have to wait.

Griffith marshals his extras well not just for the battle – which certainly shows the Italian influence – but also within the city where a long line of helpless citizens lines up into the distance. At the head of this queue of the vulnerable is a young mother (Lilian again!) who epitomises the civilian heart of Bethulia.

Lil and Blanche

The citizens look to Judith for leadership and healing but she despairs until she works out a way of saving her people… along with her maid she makes her way to the Assyrian camp and immediately begins to entrance their prince. What she didn’t reckon though was on attraction being a two-way street and as she begins to doubt her own mission in the face of burgeoning love, will she have the heart to carry out her plan?

The film is a very refined Griffith product and shows the benefit of his weeks of rehearsal time with an established company of technicians and performers. The battle scenes are again closer to what we will see in the ensuing years with Birth and Intolerance… they’re not quite Cabirian but you can feel the flames and the fury.

Judith smothers herself in dirt before undertaking her dangerous mission...

Blanche Sweet gives and impressive performance amidst all her wind-milling arms and heavenly-imploring - in the documentaries there’s a precious shot of DW showing her how to cosy up to the Prince… she does it far better! She’s actually impressively naturalistic and nuanced whilst also looking more than capable of doing the deed she must… I doubt Lillian could even wield that sword whilst Mary P just couldn’t!

Mae Marsh is also impressive here looking a little like Zoe Deschanel (is that just me?) in one of her more serious roles whilst Henry B. Walthall shows how to act through a beard: be the beard – he is the beard! There is also a fleeting appearance from Dorothy Gish as a crippled beggar, her mother Mary and some bloke called Lionel Barrymore: the Hollywood “club” was turning into a juggernaut.

Blanche leads the extras (including Lionel Barrymore?)

And there was more… as A Romance of Happy Valley was up next along with The Cricket on the Hearth but I needed to re-establish some form of contact with my family and to eat… 

The DWG show runs till the end of June and further details are available on the BFI site. There are still tickets available but they're selling fast!

You just can’t beat seeing the man’s work on screen and projected with live accompaniment. Wendy Hiscocks’s was today’s pianist and she contributed greatly to the tone and focus – capturing the mood from Dollie’s dangerous barreling to matters of life, death and love in the longer films. Every silent film musician brings their own flavour to the films and Wendy mixed post Victorian lyricism, wild-western dramatics and middle-eastern epic with consummate ease!