Silent discovery!

I love it when a movie from the silent era is found, since we have so few of them left. Recently, one was found on eBay.

Morace Park found a listing for an old film, and decided to bid on it. He found the container more interesting than the old film, but the contents have proven to be the real find here.

£3.20 bought the item. Inside the container, Park (who deals in antiques as a sideline) found a Charlie Chaplin film. The title read, "Charlie Chaplin in Zepped". Park searched online for this title, but drew a blank.


Park's neighbor, John Dyer, once worked for the British Board of Film Classification, so Park turned to him for help. The two of them investigated the film's history, and why nobody had ever even heard of it.


The film combines live-action footage of Chaplin and dreamlike animation; true to its name, it concerns an attack by a Zeppelin (very topical at that time, since Germany began attacking Britain by air in 1915, using the selfsame aircraft).

The film also bears a reference to the Essanay studio, where Chaplin worked eearly in his career, before various conflicts caused him to break with the company.

Hammad Khan, a documentarist, has gone with Park and Dyer to Los Angeles. The latter two are in town in a search for more information; Khan is (naturally!) making a documentary.

Michael Pogorzelski, director of the archive of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, has also viewed the film, stating that "It is an extremely interesting find." He also refers to it as a previously unknown and uncataloged Chaplin film.

He thinks Essanay may have cobbled together the film by using footage from other films Chaplin made for the studio and adding newer footage of Zeppelins, as well as creating the animation. He refers to it as "either piracy or entrepreneurship – depending on which side of the fence you're on."

Film historian David Robinson has assessed the value of Zepped at anywhere from £3,000 to £40,000.

Pogorzelski states that the film (a 35mm nitrate print) must be transferred to safety stock, adding that the Academy has volunteered to do this work, though the film should stay where it was found, in the UK.

Jacksonville film studio

Jacksonville, Florida, was the rather surprising place to make films, once upon a time - and by "once upon a time", I mean, "a century ago". In 1916, more than thirty companies shot films in Jacksonville, with some of the hottest stars of the time. Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle and Lionel Barrymore were among them, as well as a pre-Laurel Oliver Hardy.

The top studio in the Arlington section of town was entrepreneur Richard Norman's studio, appropriately named Norman Studios. Norman purchased the studio in 1920, and it was one of the first to make movies with an all-black cast. In addition to this surprising fact, Norman Studios may well be the only surviving silent film studio in the country. The rest have been demolished.

Political leaders Lake Ray and Glorious Johnson, intent on saving the studio, are trying to get local residents involved in the cause; the struggle to preserve this precious piece of film heritage has been going on for years. Ray, who served on the City Council in 2002, convinced the city to buy property on which the studio stands.

The idea is to turn the former studio into a silent film museum and film school, but there is a drawback - the cost will be close to three million dollars.

Only six features were shot at Norman Studios between 1920 and 1928, but they broke ground by featuring black actors in positive, non-stereotypical roles; the crew members were also black.

Norman's son, Richard E. Norman, supports the movement to save the studio; he states that his father (who was white) felt that making black-oriented movies was morally right, as well as good business sense.

For more information, go to www.normanstudios.org. They're in bad need of funds for this endeavor!

The Avenging Conscience

I love this movie. It's one of Griffith's best, and Walthall's best. Anyone who really wants to know what Walthall was capable of doing, should watch this film. Griffith made it just before his (in)famous epic, The Birth of a Nation, which, of course, also starred Walthall.

In brief, Walthall is a young man with only one surviving relative, his uncle, who has raised him. When Walthall's character (simply known as "The Nephew" in the titles) falls in love, the uncle feels threatened by his nephew's lack of attention, and grows intolerant and demanding. This leads to...

A hell of a good story, is what it leads to. Walthall really shines in this movie, as the young man in love/devoted nephew/thwarted lover/criminal/nervous wreck. Nobody could do it the way he could, and he's just marvelous. The movie shows a strong Poe influence (even down to one of his poems). And the outdoor scenes! They show a bucolic Southern California that now only exists in these classic films. Isolated houses, empty fields, and even the sepia air looks better, somehow.

Great Halloween watching. Take a look.

Edna Purviance

Once leading lady to Charlie Chaplin, now all but forgotten. A dedicated group of film lovers have started an online petition to have Edna given a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

If you want to sign the petition, click here.

Halloween

'Tis the season for watching scary movies, at least for me.

Here are a few recommendations:

Nosferatu (1922). Ground-breaking film from German director F.W. Murnau, with a fascinatingly ugly vampire (played by Max Schreck).

The Avenging Conscience (1915). The great Henry B. Walthall gives an outstanding performance as a man who has murdered his domineering uncle. Frightening dream sequences and hallucinations in this Poe-inspired Griffith film.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1924). John Barrymore plays the title characters. According to rumor, the appearance of Mr. Hyde caused the cameraman to faint.

The Man Who Laughs (1928). Not a horror film per se, but dark and richly atmospheric. Conrad Veidt is an English nobleman, Gwynplaine, whose father fell afoul of the King of England. In revenge, Gwynplaine (as a child) has been forced to undergo a surgical procedure in which a permanent smile is carved on his face. Outstanding performance by Veidt, and even Mary Philbin, as his love interest, is very effective.

The Penalty (1920). Another non-horror film, but hard-hitting and thoroughly gripping. Lon Chaney plays a man whose legs were amputated in childhood; as an adult, he has become a much-feared crime boss. Chaney's legs were strapped behind him for this role, and he really does appear to be legless.

Shopping for goodies

With three major (in my view, anyway) holidays coming up, quite a few people are turning to the Internet to do their shopping, rather than risking the crowded streets, choked malls, and rabid shoppers.

Well, why not?

ShopWiki, which has another post here on my blog, is offering advice on HOW to buy things - what to look for - which is a great idea.

One of my goals is to have a home theater - by which I mean, a room especially designed for watching movies. Or TV, if you must, but for me, the movies are the important thing. Big screens! Sound! All the goodies that go with the experience, but without those rude people kicking your seat!

Of course, there's also the alternative of getting yourself a good TV.

Or, if you're saving up for the big stuff, in the meantime, you can go for a good computer system to watch your DVDs.

Why not?

I see above that I'm recommending this things not for your loved ones, but for you. If this is something you want, why not drop your loved ones a few heavy hints?

Happy holidays!

Francis X. Bushman

The life of silent star Francis X. Bushman has finally been written!

Author Lon Davis, who recently published Silent Lives (a series of short biographies of silent stars), has finally completed a project that took almost 30 years.

Bushman (1883-1966) is best remembered for his role as Messala in the 1925 version of Ben-Hur. Unlike many stars of the silent era, he didn't have a problem adjusting to talkies... but the talkies may have had some problems adjusting to him. According to Bushman himself, he made an enemy of Louis B. Mayer, that same mogul who is rumored to have ruined the career of superstar John Gilbert. Evidently, Mayer hated Bushman's attitude; Bushman attempted to get more money during the shooting of Ben-Hur, and afterwards, found so much difficulty finding work that he placed the blame at Mayer's door.

At the age of 13, Davis met Beverly Bayne, Bushman's second wife. She had little, if anything, good to say about Bushman, but Davis was fascinated; this is when he began to research Bushman. Lon and his then-fiancee, Debra, began to co-author the manuscript in the early 1980s; they met Bushman's last wife, Iva, who kindly allowed them to view and even handle some of Bushman's silent-film paraphernalia (much of which they shipped to the Smithsonian later). The book was finished in 1983, but remained unsold until it was published by Bear Manor Media.

What happened to Bushman's career?

To hear Bushman tell it, it was because he made a powerful enemy out of Louis B. Mayer. In 1917, Bushman starred in Mayer’s first production, "The Great Secret," a serial that was something of a flop. When he was making "Ben-Hur" in the mid-twenties for the newly formed Metro-Goldwyn- Mayer company, Bushman alienated Mayer by holding him up for more money when the production was stalled. After a few major movies at the end of the twenties, he turned to radio for the next two decades.
He did state that he loved the 1959 remake of Ben-Hur, and even helped to promote the film.

Will we see more of Bushman's films now?

I hope so!

For Charley Chase fans

The most common reaction is "Who?" The second most common reaction is, "Oh, you mean Charlie Chaplin, don't you?"

Nope, Charley Chase. He was another silent comedians, not one of the Big Three, but very popular. A recent article states that his collected works are now available on DVD.

Write Jordan Young states:

"To my mind there are two kinds of people—those who love Charley Chase, and those who never heard of him. All Day Entertainment's Becoming Charley Chase, recently released by VCI Entertainment, is a 4-DVD box set affectionately put together by people who are clearly in the first category; it’s not the work of a soulless corporation trying to make a fast buck, like so many video releases these days.

"This collection should do much to bolster the reputation of this most unjustly underrated comedian of the 1920s and ‘30s, perhaps best remembered now for an uproarious cameo in Laurel and Hardy’s Sons of the Desert. One disc is devoted to Chase’s embryonic 1915 work for Mack Sennett; two discs are comprised of 1924-1925 shorts made at Hal Roach Studios; and a fourth samples his efforts directing other comics, including his brother James Parrott (who himself directed many of Charley’s comedies, as well of some of Laurel and Hardy’s best), Will Rogers and Snub Pollard. Our Gang, whose earliest comedies Chase supervised as Director General at Roach, are seen as guest stars in The Fraidy Cat.

"Even the Chase aficionado who has all or most of these 40-odd comedy shorts in 8mm, 16mm, Laserdisc or VHS will find the box hard to resist. There are new scores for all titles, with some highly entertaining and imaginative work by the Snark Ensemble, Ben Model, the Redwine Jazz Band, and the West End Jazz Band. There are also optional audio commentaries on all films by a gaggle of Chase historians and film scholars; a 45-minute documentary, The Parrott Chase; and an archival interview with Chase's daughter June.

"The quality of the films is erratic but not for lack of effort; producer David Kalat notes how he acquired six prints of one especially poor-looking title, and choose the best of the lot. We’re fortunate so many of Chase’s silent shorts exist, as the tantalizing fragments of some lost ones remind us... A DVD set of his ‘30s Columbia shorts is in the works; meanwhile, for more on Charley visit the definitive website."

As always, I'm DELIGHTED to see more silent films coming out on DVD. We just don't have enough; DVD hasn't yet caught up to VHS in terms of the number of films available, especially those from the silent era. I always love sharing the news of another silent release.

Hot news!

This from the Associated Press:

Early 20th century films found in Polish cellar

Fri Aug 21, 12:03 pm ET

WARSAW, Aug 21, 2009 (AFP) – Several rare early 20th century Swedish, German, Italian and American movies have been discovered in a cellar in southern Poland, the country's national film library said Friday.

"They are going to undergo cleaning and conservation, before being watched, identified and archived," library spokeswoman Justyna Jablonska told AFP.

The Polska newspaper reported that experts have identified several cinematic gems in the metal boxes discovered in a parish building in the city of Sosnowiec.

The newspaper said they included the 1913 "Gränsfolken" (People of the Border), adapted by Swedish director Mauritz Stiller from a novel by French icon Emile Zola, as well as "Zwei Himmelblaue Augen" (Two Skyblue Eyes), released in 1932 by Germany's Johannes Meyer.

In addition, Polska said, the films include a 1929 German version of the Sherlock Holmes adventure "The Hound of the Baskervilles" by Richard Oswald, one from the long-running Italian series "Maciste", which began in 1914 and starred Bartolomeo Pagano.

Experts reportedly also discovered parts of a 1913 movie by Germany's Otton Rippert, who often worked with Fritz Lang.

The collection belonged to the parish priest Father Jerzy Barszcz, a local film buff who began collecting movies after World War II, and who died in 2004, Polska reported.

Exciting to learn for all lovers of early film!

Buster Keaton Convention

The 15th Annual Damfino Convention will take place October 2 and 3, 2009, in Muskegon, Michigan.

Events include:

- A screening of Buster's classic film, The General

- A walking tour of Buster's former neighborhood in Bluffton.

- A banquet on Saturday night.

- A reception at the train depot in Muskegon.

For more information, tips on places to stay, downloadable registration forms, and more, take a look here.

Hearts of the World

This is one of my favorite Bobby Harron films. He had grown out of supporting-role status and had become a leading man, and a very effective one. He's believable in everything he does here.

It's also fascinating for its authentic battleground footage, shot in WWI France. Griffith could have died while filming it, and some of the soldiers accompanying him one day were killed by a shell that barely missed Griffith and his crew; Lillian Gish reported how shaken and tearful he was when he told them, later that day, what had happened.

Bobby Harron would die in real life two years later, and in this movie, there is a scene where his fiancee (the incomparable Lillian) thinks he has been killed. What she does, in this scene, is something I've never seen anywhere else. I'll let you find out for yourselves. There's the interest of viewing Lillian and Dorothy playing rivals for The Boy, when in real life, Dorothy was the one involved with Harron. Dorothy gives her best performance here; at least, it's the best I've ever seen from her. She's marvelous as the "Little Disturber", who makes a play for The Boy in the beginning, then finding strength of character during the bombardment of her village. Her role is both comic and dramatic. I can't help wondering what she thought of the scene in which Lillian kisses Bobby, the only time I can think of where you can clearly see Lillian kissing her leading man.

The movie contains many surprising scenes: A shot of a civilian victim; the real ruins of a French town after heavy bombing; the trenches; and one shot you wouldn't even see in a modern film, that of a woman breastfeeding her child.

Griffith intended to show the horrors of war, and I think that his own experiences with the first world war made him even more qualified to do so.

Bobby, you were wonderful.

Olive Thomas

Olive Thomas is an interesting (and sad) chapter in silent film. Lillian Gish was the consummate actress. Mary Pickford was the eternal, annoying little girl. Louise Brooks was a sex symbol. Garbo was the lady of mystery.

Olive was the tomboyish character, yet with style and class. Her film career was woefully short - only four years - but by the time she had made her final film, The Flapper, she was a confirmed star.

Olive had one of those rags-to-riches backgrounds. She married her first husband when she was only sixteen, divorcing him a few years later. She moved to New York City and won a beauty contest; this led to her being offered a job in the Ziegfeld Follies. (At late-night parties, Olive would appear wearing only balloons, which the rich men would pop, one by one, with their cigars.)

The film world wasn't far away in those days, with as many films being shot on the East Coast as on the West. Olive made her first film in 1916, and in October of that year, she married Mary Pickford's younger brother Jack. Jack was also in film, though he would never achieve the heights that his sister did. With Olive now a member of the industry, they often found themselves shooting on opposite coasts, putting a strain on their marriage; another problem was caused by Jack's frequent philandering.

In 1920, Olive and Jack sailed for Europe to give their marriage another try. Olive had confided to a friend, not long before this, that she didn't know if she could take being married to Jack any longer.

In the dead of night, in Paris, Olive went into the bathroom and swallowed a solution of mercury bichloride. She woke Jack to tell him what she had done; he administered first aid, and called for help. It was too late; after several days of agony, Olive died in a Paris hospital. She had been blinded by the solution, which had also burned through her vocal cords.

Jack, with Olive's body, sailed for New York. His boat was met by his sister Mary; Jack burst into tears and said, "I've never had to see anyone die before." Olive was buried in the Pickford family plot, but her name wasn't put on the stone.

Her last film, The Flapper, was a perfect showcase for her talent. She played Ginger King, a teenager from Florida who is sent to a boarding school in New York State. The character of Ginger has a real talent for getting into dramatic situations, which she milks for all that they're worth. Olive truly shines in this role, and the film gives us views of a long-gone New York City.

Much has been made of Olive's death, especially in light of the fact that her marriage was on the rocks. Was it suicide? I doubt it. Olive had thought nothing of divorcing her first husband, who, to all accounts, didn't cause her any of the problems that the irresponsible playboy Jack Pickford had. She may have felt that it was her duty to try to make things worth; this is plausible. Yet suicide by means of mercury bichloride is a rash step. (On the other hand, the "Biograph Girl", Florence Lawrence, committed suicide by eating ant paste.)

My feeling is that she got up late one night, thirsty, went into the bathroom, and drank what she thought was water. As for the solution itself, mercury bichloride was used in those days for acne; it was mixed with water and applied to the skin.

It was also used for syphilis, which, evidently, Jack had - and had passed on to Olive.

I think Olive deserves much better than to be relegated to the status of a Pickford in-law. She was very talented, certainly far more talented than the grungy-looking Jack, and I'm sure she would have been one of the greats. Timeline Films has made a very good documentary about Olive; click on the link at the bottom of this page to find out more. (One of the fascinating things about the documentary is that it contains film footage of Olive with two other actresses, sitting on some steps. One actress is Chaplin's one-time leading lady, Edna Purviance. The other is Virginia Rappe, who would die so dramatically the year after Olive did.)

Sad news

I hope that Bob Mitchell's family won't mind me putting this text here:

Bob Mitchell was born in Los Angeles on October 12, 1912. He began piano study at four and pipe organ at the age of ten. He accompanied silent movies beginning in 1924 (at age twelve) until 1928 when sound replaced live music. At eighteen he was the youngest candidate to receive the degree of Fellow of the American Guild of Organists (F.A.G.O.). He was a scholarship winner at Eastman School of Music and the New York College of Music and still found time to sing and play on his own radio show in New York City.

Returning to Los Angeles, he founded the Mitchell Choirboys in 1934 - which continued for nearly 70 years. They performed in some one hundred motion pictures, most notably Going My Way, The Bishop's Wife, and White Christmas. They toured extensively - five times abroad and once around the world, and made thousands of radio and TV appearances.

Bob served overseas in the Navy during World War II, and was pianist/organist for Meredith Willson's Armed Forces Radio Service Orchestra.

He served as staff pianist/organist at several Los Angeles radio stations - KFI, KHJ, KECA, among others, and on TV with Art Linkletter's House Party, The Jack LaLanne Show, and even The Mitchell Choirboys Show. Bob and the choir were featured in the Academy-nominated short film Forty Boys and a Song, and he was honored on Ralph Edwards' This Is Your Life.

Bob was organist for four years for the Dodgers and Angels at the then new stadium, the only person to 'play' for both the National and American leagues at the same time. He was Musical Director for many religious institutions over his 87 years as a professional musician, and most recently regularly exciting his many fans at the Silent Movie Theater (on Fairfax Blvd.), Hollywood. Bob passed away peacefully on Saturday afternoon, July 4, 2009.

The Arbuckle scandal

This, in my opinion, was one of the biggest tragedies ever to strike Hollywood.

Things were going so well for Arbuckle in 1921. He was a famous comedian, he was the first in his field to make a million dollars a year (a fabulous sum now, and truly astronomical then). He had introduced to screen the incomparable Buster Keaton, and in 1921, Buster made his first feature film. The two were good friends, and Arbuckle needed all the friends he could get after all hell broke loose.

In Buster Keaton: A Hard Act to Follow, footage was included of Buster being interviewed about his friend Roscoe (who was NEVER called "Fatty" by his friends; he hated the nickname). Buster said indignantly, "Certainly he was wronged! He was no more guilty of that than I was!"

As for what really happened during the infamous Labor Day party, we may never know. A week later, a would-be starlet was dead, and Arbuckle was blamed for causing her death. The accounts vary wildly; either Arbuckle was a sex fiend who assaulted this poor, innocent young woman, which then led to her death of peritonitis due to a ruptured bladder, or this extremely active young woman, already infected with more than one sexually-transmitted disease, died of peritonitis from a ruptured bladder as the result of a botched abortion, one of several.

Certainly, Hearst was willing to put the blame squarely on Arbuckle. Buster stated that Hearst said - in front of Buster himself - that the Arbuckle affair sold more papers than the sinking of the Lusitania.

When I watch the movies Arbuckle and Buster made together, Buster's genius is obvious, even in his very first role. Arbuckle was no mean hand at physical comedy himself, and he had some pretty good little routines, but had it not been for the storm surrounding him, much of which continues to this day, what would have happened to him? He didn't have the staying power that Buster did, or Harold Lloyd. He did have talent, though, and his joy in making comedy still shines through.

San Francisco Silent Film Festival

It's coming up soon! July 10 - 12 at San Francisco's Castro Theatre, built in 1922.

Click here to see what's playing. I noticed that several of the films on offer were shown at Pordenone last October. Anyone who wanted to attend Pordenone, but couldn't, has the opportunity to see some of the movies that were shown there.

I think we should have more such festivals. Every capital city should have one, and large countries should scatter them nationwide. Each month should bring another festival, and not just a few movies, but a rich offering of silent-era movies.

(On a side note, while I do appreciate the fact that some filmmakers like to make modern-day short silent films, I never get anything out of watching them at festivals. I prefer to have only vintage films shown, and nothing recent.)

This may be the biggest festival until Pordenone this October. I've never been to it myself, so I can't vouch for it, but the combination of silent films and San Francisco has tremendous appeal.

Intolerance

Will you look at that? Will you just look at that?

This is one of my favorite images of all time. The scale of the Babylonian set is breathtaking, as is the pioneering "crane" shot Griffith created. (He had a scaffold built which contained an elevator, on which the camera was placed. The scaffold had wheels, so the cameraman cranked away while the elevator went down as the entire structure was slowly wheeled forward.)

I must say, I'm glad Griffith got huffy and self-pitying after the storm of protest following the release of The Birth of a Nation. If he hadn't gotten it into his head that he'd been dreadfully wronged, he might not have made Intolerance. And we wouldn't have this stunning spectacle to view.

What really gets me is that something this beautiful wasn't carefully maintained and preserved. Nope; it was just a movie set. Get rid of it. It stood at the studio on Prospect Street. Imagine walking past and just drinking in the sight of it! I showed a friend a clip from the movie, pointing out the wall where a chariot was driven. He was impressed - not as much as I am, though.

You just don't see sets like these anymore. CGI, eat your heart out.

Pordenone revisited

More on the festival!

The website has been updated, showing some of the goodies in store for us at this year's Giornate.

I found that several films on the ever-popular character of Sherlock Holmes are going to be shown, the earliest of these from 1909. There are quite a few to choose from.

There are also some early Technicolor films; a few offerings from Carl Theodor Dreyer; an Asta Nielsen retrospective; and more!

It's always sheer joy to go to the Giornate, quickly replace by sheer exhaustion after a day or two, when we have all been sitting, rapt, in a dark room all day, eating high-calorie food at nearby restaurants, staying up late at night and getting up early the next morning. This quickly leads to vertical naps in the screening rooms. It's a rare day when you don't hear someone snoring during at least one movie (one year, someone got in a good one right when the accompanist trailed off; the room was silent for a split second, and then a snore punctuated the screening).

It happens every year. We can't see all the movies we want to see, but by God, we try.

The Miracle Man

You can see the only surviving footage of The Miracle Man on YouTube (link below).

This is one of those films that cause intense anguish for me, wondering what might have been. We see just enough of it to want to see the whole thing, but most of it hasn't survived, unless there's a print out there somewhere, hidden away.

It was Chaney's breakthrough role, as a con man named Frog, and he's incredible, as always. DeMille leading man Thomas Meighan also stars, but that one scene - the fake healing, followed by the real thing - makes the film Chaney's, and his alone.

I hope that, as with Metropolis, we'll soon hear that the "lost" footage has been found, and the whole movie will be restored and presented to the public.

Take a look.

The Man Who Laughs

This is one gorgeous movie.

I saw it a few years ago, and I wonder why it took me so long. It's a late-era silent (1928) with the incomparable Conrad Veidt as the title character. It seems that Gwynplaine (Veidt) is the son of a man who pissed off the King of England in a very serious way; the father is sentenced to the Iron Maiden, while the son is given to a band of gypsies who excel in plastic surgery.

The gypsies carve a permanent smile in his face before abandoning him, alone and friendless. Finding a blind baby still clutched in her dead mother's arms, he takes the baby and eventually finds a home with a traveling show. Gwynplaine, as an adult, becomes a part of the show and is known, of course, as "The Man Who Laughs".

This is such an atmospheric film, with many touches of the German Expressionists (and one of Expressionism's best-known actors), matched by a fascinating, bizarre story. Veidt is always excellent, and even Mary Philbin gives a good performance as the blind Dea, the woman he loves but feels he doesn't deserve.

The film is dark, the story is consistently interesting, and everything just works. An interesting footnote is that Veidt's appearance - hair slicked back, face constantly smiling - provided the inspiration for the comic-book character of the Joker, nemesis of Batman, though Gwynplaine is a highly sympathetic, tragic character. Veidt had to wear wire hooks to hold his mouth in place, which prevented him from speaking. (There is some talk that Lon Chaney was originally cast in this role, which makes perfect sense, given his talent for strikingly original makeup.)

One of the things that interests me about this movie is the fact that it does have a soundtrack, though you don't hear the actors speaking their lines. Some of the sound is synched; some is a musical score. One romantic scene has a woman's beautiful voice singing. It's a far cry from the primitive sound that was, even then, taking over the film business.

Best of all, the film is available on DVD!

Forever silent

I've been thinking of those silent actors whose voices, for one reason and another, were never heard on film.

Here are some of them:

Elliott Dexter. Retired from the screen in 1925.

Bobby Harron. Died in 1920.

Wallace Reid. Died in 1923.

Clarine Seymour. Died in 1920.

Constance Talmadge. Retired from films upon the advent of sound.

Olive Thomas. Died in 1920.

Rudolph Valentino. Died in 1926.

And, of course, the older actors who had simply faded off the screen, or died, before sound came in.

Then there's one who only made one sound film: Lon Chaney. What might he have done with his voice, as he did with his face and body, had he lived longer?

Flicker Alley

Big news!

Flicker Alley has released a John Gilbert double feature on DVD. The two films are Bardelys the Magnificent and Monte Cristo.

I don't know what else is in it; I know that we can count on the good people at Flicker Alley to throw in all kinds of delightful goodies, though. The first film is one I saw last year at the Pordenone festival, and I loved it. One reel was missing, so when it was restored by Lobster Films in France, they used stills to recreate the story during that scene. Bardelys is about a 17th-century Parisian nobleman who finds himself betting an acquaintance that he can "make" a young noblewoman of the country fall in love with and marry him. And that's just the beginning of the story.

I've never seen Monte Cristo, but Gilbert is in it. That's good enough for me.

British Silent Film Festival

Good news for film fans in Britain!

The 12th British Silent Film Festival starts at the Barbican Cinema on June 4, running until the 6th. One of the features is Hitchcock's last silent film, The Manxman.

The focus this year is on the relationship of sound and film. Pordenone regulars Neil Brand and Philip Carli will be attending (and accompanying); at least one of the films presented is an early sound film, an adaptation of Thomas Hardy's novel Under the Greenwood Tree.

For more information, go here.

ShopWiki Kitchen Appliances Buying Guide

This one kind of blows me away.

Most of us know what it's like to go shopping for a major appliance, and to be faced with an enormous number of brands and styles. This is the first online buying guide I've seen (though, granted, I've never looked for one), and it's impressive.

It covers the big ones - ranges, stoves, refrigerators, freezers, trash compactors - and even things that (in the States, anyway) aren't commonly found in kitchens, such as washers and dryers. As I scrolled down, the list became even more detailed.

If you're looking for a buying guide for soy milk makers, well, here you go. Related products are given at the bottom of the page (yogurt makers, ice cream makers, juicers, etc.). I was rather amused at the spice rack buying guide. I can only assume that enough people have shown an interest in them that the company has decided to provide this guide.

At the bottom of the page, there is an eye-popping list of related searches, underneath the list of major manufacturers, studded with familiar names.

I wonder what other buying guides they have?

Pordenone '09

Some of the films to be shown are already on the Giornate's site. The opening event will be Erich von Stroheim's The Merry Widow, starring John Gilbert and Mae Murray.

An article about the making of the film, written by Kevin Brownlow, accompanies the listing. It seems that the movie encountered enormous problems almost every step of the way, with Stroheim disappointed in the leading man who was foisted upon him (according to Gilbert, they eventually became friends after a little drinking session), and wonder boy Irving Thalberg calling the shots.

You can see a short clip of the waltz scene on YouTube, with the lovely melody "Love Unspoken" on the soundtrack. The video is scratchy, and I hope that the print they show at Pordenone will be better; the good people at the Giornate have a real genius for finding the best existing prints of the films they present.

That's the main news from the Giornate. Not much else to report.

ShopWiki

So, there’s this new site. Or maybe it’s not new. Anyway, it’s new to me.

It’s a site called ShopWiki UK, and just as the name suggests, it’s a searchable site for stores throughout the UK – more than 30,000, evidently. On a whim, I did a search for “silent film”. I came up with a lot of matches – too many, really, so I narrowed it down to “classic silent film”. That was better, and gave a pretty good variety; not just DVDs, which was what I wanted to find, but also books on the subjects, Kevin Brownlow’s fabulous documentaries, and movie posters.

Then I thought of looking for this. It was a good idea. Only three pages, but if you’re looking for Griffith DVDs, this is a good place to start. It also provides (as mentioned above) other Griffith-related products. If you have a strong urge to buy a poster of The Birth of a Nation, you can find it here. One little gem offered is a DVD containing a Henry B. Walthall double feature – The Avenging Conscience (influenced by the works of Poe) and, appropriately enough, Edgar Allan Poe. I also found some short Christmas films by Griffith on DVD. They even have some movies available on VHS!

If you’re not into that, you can check out the 2009 Women's Summer Style Guide – jewelry, shoes, and clothing. And, for those of you who want to hit the water, they have something for you, too. I think I’ll be searching the little nooks and crannies of this site.

Unexpected treasure

I don't remember what I was looking for today, but on YouTube, I stumbled across a series of short silent films from the Library of Congress.

They're all, as far as I can tell, from the Edison studio, and all from the 1890s. One of them shows a man taking snuff and sneezing, which I'd seen before. The others, though... One shows a group of Sioux doing the Ghost Dance, one shows three Japanese women doing the Imperial Dance, one has Annie Oakley shooting through coins thrown into the air by her assistant.

Each little movie is less than a minute long, and some are jumpy, but overall, the quality is very good, and a fascinating look at the way people used to be, and the things that people wanted to watch in the new medium. Edison's people were turning the motion-picture camera on anything they wanted, and cranking away; the result is a series of short documentaries of a life long gone. (One of the films shows several stablehands rescuing four horses and a burning wagon from a barn.)

One thing that's rather annoying is that each film has an announcement that the film comes from the Library of Congress, and after it ends, there's another, similar announcement. I muted the sound, which made it much easier to concentrate on what I was seeing on the little screen of YouTube.

One film shows two men dancing, an image of which was used to publicize the documentary The Celluloid Closet, about homosexuality in film, onscreen and off. The little film on YouTube shows that the two of them aren't very graceful in their dancing efforts, with a lone violinist playing in the background, and another man appearing several seconds into the film.

This is the kind of thing we need - short silents available to the public. The LoC has a rather staggering number of films from the silent era in its collection, and very few of them can be seen. Is there no way that, similar to Warner Brothers, they can create an online ordering system so that those who want a certain film can order it on DVD?

John Gilbert - where is his tribute?

I've seen documentaries of other stars - Mary Pickford, most notably, Greta Garbo, Theda Bara, and even a lesser-known name to modern audiences, Olive Thomas.

Why haven't I seen a John Gilbert documentary?

If there is one, I haven't heard of it. John Gilbert certainly deserves one; I'd be willing to bet that his daughter, Leatrice Gilbert Fountain (author of the Gilbert biography Dark Star - would help with it.

As I mentioned in my post about John Gilbert, he was one of THE stars of the silent era, especially in his teamings with Garbo; I don't think I've ever seen her heat up the screen except when paired with her one-time fiance. He become the leading Hollywood heartthrob after Valentino's death, made film after film in the '20s, and then fell into a decline that ended with his sudden, tragic death.

Let's see this man get the tribute he so richly deserves.

Silent Movie Theatre

I love this idea. Why don’t more people do it?

There’s a business in Los Angeles known as the Silent Movie Theatre. According to the website, it was built by husband-and-wife team John and Dorothy Hampton in 1942. It was (so the website claims) the only silent movie theatre in the country.
On January 17, 1997, then-owner Laurence Austin was shot and killed in what was purported to be an attempted robbery. The truth came out, though, that Austin’s partner paid a hit man to murder him (said partner hoped to inherit Austin’s estate).
In March of the following year, the Theatre closed and was put on sale. Fortunately for all lovers of silent film, the building was bought (on a whim) by Charles Lustig, who reopened it in November of 1999. The renovation, which cost almost a million dollars, included new paint, floors, Art Deco marquee, screen, projection booth, and a digital keyboard donated by Yamaha. A café was added, along with a movie gallery.

The sad thing is, showings of silent films became less frequent as the years went on. In June of 2006, Lustig sold the Theatre to brothers Sammy and Dan Harkman, and Hadrian Belove. The new owners still show silents, but not exclusively; one advantage is that they show silents that aren’t as well-known to modern audiences. A look at the website shows “Silent Wednesdays” on the bill. The program gives an enticing offer of “orphan films” – something I’d like to see!

The Theatre is also available to rent for private parties. The projection capacity includes 35mm, 16mm, and hi-def digital.

The Theatre is located at 611 N. Fairfax Avenue, north of the Farmers Market.

More on the Bowl

It seems that the Bowl has quite the lineup these days:
Hollywood Bowl Tickets
The home page shows a staggering aerial view of the Bowl, with the seats rising in a dizzying slant above it. It also contains some history of this entertainment venue.
Hollywood Bowl Tickets
Not bad, not bad... Quite a difference from the early days, when the stage was a small, almost ramshackle construction.
Hollywood Bowl Tickets
Take a look.

The Hollywood Bowl

HOLLYWOOD BOWL

I regard it as one of Hollywood’s icons, along with the “Hollywood” sign straggling along the hills. An old postcard shows the Bowl, not yet surrounded by urban development, standing small in the hills, with simple wooden benches facing it. According to the website, the Bowl (not yet with its famous shell design) opened in July of 1922, with the Los Angeles Philharmonic giving the opening concert. An aerial photo from circa 1922 gives an idea of how sparsely settled the area was back then, which would have made it perfect for outdoor entertainment.
Allstate Arena Tickets
Pageant Of Masters Tickets
Hollywood Bowl Tickets
A 1926 photo shows the Bowl with its now-iconic shell. The seats are arranged in a semicircle, replacing the earlier benches in a square outlay. A 1927 postcard gives an idea of a concert in those times; the view is from far in the back, with the Bowl not easily visible (though, I would imagine, audible) some distance away.
The years go on; the images show not only the growth of the Bowl itself, but of the neighborhood around it. By 1951, the hills are no longer bare, but filled with streets and houses. The photograph also shows that Southern California curse, air pollution; it hangs heavily along the horizon, unlike the clear scenes of the 1920s.
1972? The Bowl is now right in the center of the action; no more building can be done in the area, because all the land has been taken. A major freeway runs nearby, and it seems that the image from 1927, which showed such a huge audience, would no longer fit into the Bowl's vicinity now, when the seats are well-established in a fixed range. The most recent photo on the website comes from 2007, showing this landmark illuminated by fireworks.
D.W. Griffith’s stunningly beautiful set from Intolerance, the Babylonian construction, is long gone. The wide-open streets of a clear Southern California are choked with traffic. Horses no longer pull carts; streetcars do not run. But the Bowl is still there.
Some things do last.

Good news!

It seems that Warner Brothers is opening its vault for DVD orders.

According to the story:

"Customers can get digital downloads for $14.95 or order a DVD through the mail for $19.95. DVDs will only be created when a customer orders a certain title, eliminating the need to fill warehouses with inventory.

"The titles range from silent films up through movies released in the 1980s."

Anyone going to see what silent films can be ordered from the Brothers?

I think I will. More on that later.

Today in silent film history

Raoul Walsh is born Albert Edward Walsh in New York City, 1887.
Dorothy Gish is born in Massillon, Ohio, 1898.

Alice Guy-Blache, the first woman director

Alice Guy was born in Paris, the fifth child in her family. Her parents lived in Santiago, Chile, but her mother traveled to Paris for the birth. Guy's grandmother in Switzerland cared for her until she was three or four years old. In 1877, Guy's mother collected her and brought her to Santiago, where Guy met her father for the first time.

Around 1879, her father took her back to France to enroll her in boarding school, where two of her sisters were studying. In 1884, the chain of bookstores her father owned in Chile were bankrupt; her parents returned to France, and Guy was enrolled in a less expensive boarding school. Her brother, who had been sick for some time, died, soon followed by her father.

In 1894, Guy washired by Léon Gaumont, to work for a photography company owned by Felix Richard. When, shortly thereafter, Richard lost a patent suit and went out of business, Gaumont bought his inventory and started his own company, with Guy working for him.

On March 22, 1895, Gaumont and Guy were invited by the Lumière brothers to view their cinématographe - a 35mm motion picture camera - in action.

This was when the turning point came in Guy's career. She persuaded Gaumont to let her direct a film using the Gaumont camera. In 1896, Guy wrote, produced, and directed La Fée aux choux (The Cabbage Fairy).

In 1897, Guy was made the head of film production, which would be her job until 1906. By that time, she had produced more than 400 films.

From 1902 to 1906, Guy directed more than 100 phonoscènes, which were films made for the chronophone (a synchronized-sound system introduced by Gaumont in 1902). In 1906, Herbert Blaché, a manager at Gaumont, acted as Guy's cameraman. On Christmas Day, 1906, the two became engaged - Guy was 33 and Blaché was 24.

In 1907, the two married and when Blaché was sent to the United States on business, Guy resigned in order to accompany him. The two were unsuccessful in their attempts to create a chronophone franchise, but in 1908, Blaché was hired by Gaumont to manage a studio in Flushing, New York that would produce English-language phonoscènes.

In 1910, Guy created a company, Solax, renting the Gaumont studio space. By 1912, Solax had become so successful that Guy built a studio in Fort Lee, New Jersey, at an alleged cost of more than $100,000. The company produced two one-reeler films per week. At least half of the films made were written and directed by Guy; she also oversaw all the production. At that time, D.W. Griffith was working at Biograph, a few miles away.

On March 1, 1913, Dick Whittington and His Cat was released. It was three reels (45 minutes) long, with a $35,000 budget.

In June of 1913, Blaché's contract with Gaumont ended and Guy made him president of Solax so that she could concentrate on writing and directing. Three months later, Blaché resigned and started his own film company, Blaché Features. The company used the Solax plant, inventory and actors, so that the two companies were easily confused for some months. Eventually, Blaché Features outstripped Solax in terms of production.

From August 1913 to August 1914, Blaché and Guy took turns in producing and directing three- and four-reel films for Blaché features. In the time period of 1914-1916, feature-length films of five reels or more were in increasing demand. Guy and Blaché joined production company Popular Plays and Players. The films were shot in the old Solax Studio in Fort Lee, which at that time still belonged to the Blachés.

In 1916, after two years of cooperation, the Blachés decided to end their work with Popular Plays and Players. Guy directed seven feature films, including The Ocean Waif.

In 1917, the Solax studio was rented to other companies. Guy, now 44, was a highly-regarded film director, but her recent films hadn't enjoyed commercial success.

In 1918, Blaché found Guy work in directing The Great Adventure for Pathé Players. This film is commercially successful. That same year, Blaché moved to Hollywood with Catrine Calvert, an actress who had starred in four films under Guy's direction. Guy moved into a New York City apartment.

In 1919, Léonce Perret hired Guy to write and direct Tarnished Reputations, at a rate of $2,000 for six weeks of work. The film actually took ten weeks to complete, during which time Guy came down with the Spanish influenza, which killed four coworkers. Blaché, then in New York, invited her to join him in California.

In 1920, Guy and her children moved into a Los Angeles bungalow. Though Blaché didn't live with them, he hired Guy as his directing assistant on the Alla Nazimova films The Brat and Stronger than Death.

Tarnished Reputations opened on March 14, 1920. It was the last film that Alice Guy-Blaché would direct.

After a turbulent life after directing, Guy died on March 24, 1968, in a New Jersey nursing home, aged 95.

She isn't just the first woman director. She was one of the first directors ever, starting in the film business at the very beginning, well ahead of the far more famous D.W. Griffith. She is said to have made more than 400 movies, of which only one-fourth survive.

Come to think of it, concerning the enormous numbers of silent films lost to us, that's an above-average survival rate.

So, then, why is there so little about her? Where is the DVD set of her films? The TV specials about her? Why is she barely remembered these days?

I'd like to know.

This weekend in silent film history

March 7 - Virginia Pearson is born in Anchorage, Kentucky, 1886.
March 8 - D.W. Griffith's film Judith of Bethulia, the first feature-length film, premieres in 1914.
Harold Lloyd dies in Los Angeles, 1971.

Mary Pickford

Little Mary, America's Sweetheart.

I don't like her.

This will probably prove to be an extremely unpopular statement among silent film fans, but it's true. I don't like Mary's doe-eyed expressions or her endless little-girl roles. I know that in real life, Mary was a very shrewd businesswoman, one who knew how to get paid for her work.

That doesn't mean her work was exceptional; it just meant that Mary knew how to get what she wanted. I read that most of the budget for A Romance of the Redwoods went to pay Mary's salary. And this was in 1917. Before three more years had passed, of course, she had cofounded United Artists. She was the highest-paid star in the world.

Well, so what? When I watch her, I feel as if her real-life business sense had spilled over into her screen performances. It looks to me as if she's crafting each performance with the utmost care, not to be the best she can be, but to keep the audience hooked and the money machine in top operation. She just doesn't ring true to me, particularly in her early films, when despite claims that she brought a naturalistic style of acting to the screen, she makes the common mistake of striking a dramatic pose with her arms over her head. Quite a few actresses who made far less money than Mary were doing the same thing. Years later, when she finally played her last little-girl role in Sparrows, she raises her hands over her head in horror. Didn't learn much, did she?

She's simply a neat little package, always adorable, makeup always perfect. She appears on the screen, milking the character for all she's worth. The only time I've ever seen her play an unattractive role - and unattractive it is - is in the film Stella Maris. According to the documentary I watched, most of the crew didn't even recognize her when she appeared on set, hair dull, no makeup, completely opposite to her usual look.

Now, if Mary had done this more often, I might have more respect for her. As it is, I don't feel that acting was her life's passion. Unlike Lillian Gish, who went to great lengths to make her performances the best she could make them, Mary strikes me as someone who viewed acting as a means to an end, said end being financial security. She knew she was in the right profession, and rather than working for it, she made it work for her.

Metropolis

Rumor has it that Metropolis is going to be remade.

I've seen it. I saw it before the rest of the footage was discovered in Buenos Aires last year. I watched Brigitte Helm's unforgettable performance in her dual role.

And I can't stand the thought of it being remade. I don't know who had this particularly stupid idea, but if you're reading this, you lack imagination. You lack creativity. You shouldn't be making films.

Why?

Because you're remaking a classic. Hell, you're remaking a film. That's more than enough. Want to make a classic? Make your own movie. Don't ride someone else's coattails in a vain attempt to make a name for yourself. If you can't write your own films - and a lot of people can't; there's no shame in that - then adapt a work of fiction that's never been made into a film before. Do something ORIGINAL. Make a film that will be a showcase for your own talents and that of the people involved.

DON'T remake someone else's triumph and try to pass it off as a tribute to a superior filmmaker. Fritz Lang was a groundbreaker in filmmaking; if you can't be one yourself, don't try to redo what he can do, DID do, better. The era in which Metropolis was made had a definite impact on the appeal of the film, then and now. This era is not the same; this era has its own distinctive mark.

Make a real film. Make something that's never been done before. Be DARING. Any idiot can do a remake, and many idiots do. Don't be one of them.

Lost

One of the saddest things about the silent era; so many films from that time no longer exist. I read somewhere that the guesstimate is 80 - 90%.

That is one GRIM statistic. For all of the great films that still exist, how many more are gone? No wonder we get excited at the news that the missing footage of Metropolis has been found. I wouldn't mind taking a tour of screening rooms, old movie theaters, and the houses of theater owners, in the hope of finding even one reel of a missing film. I'm that intent.

I know that the AFI has a list of "Most Wanted" of the lost films, but I couldn't find it online; I found many mentions of it, but not the list itself.

Here are some of mine:

The Miracle Man
The Greatest Thing in Life
London After Midnight (I've seen this referred to as perhaps the most famous lost film of them all)
Remodeling Her Husband (starring Dorothy Gish and directed by none other than her sister, Lillian; her only film behind the camera)
Cleopatra
The entire epic of Greed
The Boy in Blue
Number 13

Chaney! Gish! Murnau! Hitchcock!

Today in silent film history

1906: Anita Garvin is born in New York City.
1948: Sergei Eisenstein dies in Moscow.
1974: Anna Q. Nilsson dies in Hemet, California.

Boring

I experience this problem occasionally. I'll watch a silent movie, looking forward to a great story and amazing acting, yet BORING comes along. There will be an actor or actress in a leading role who has all the depth of a paper napkin. Fortunately, this happens rarely in silent films (yet much of the time in modern films), but it does happen, and makes the experience painful.

This happened the other night with The Volga Boatman, part of my Cecil B. DeMille collection. It was one of the few I hadn't seen from the set. I was already wary, since the male star was William "Hopalong Cassidy" Boyd. I saw him in Lady of the Pavements last year at the silent film festival in Pordenone. "Hello," he seems to be saying, "I'm boring." Nice-looking man, but not an exciting presence. I think he tries, but he comes across better as part of the decoration rather than as an actor.

The Volga Boatman, though - that was a double whammy. First there was Boyd. Then there was Elinor Fair, whom Boyd later married. I can think of a couple of things they had in common; they were both film people, and neither of them had screen presence. Fair was even worse than Boyd, constantly striking Statue of Liberty poses - I expected her to pull out a torch at some point - and, in general, looking two-dimensional. The plot was interesting; the supporting cast was fine; the leads might just as well have taken off for an extended vacation, leaving cardboard cutouts of themselves to be used in shooting. It would have been more cost-effective, and the audiences would never have noticed.

I expect more of the silents, because they give more. There are far fewer incompetents in them; they have better stories, richer performances, and more memorable faces. When a film falls flat, it's all the more disappointing. The most interesting part of The Volga Boatman is the knowledge that Boyd proposed to Fair onscreen, towards the end. I was looking for it, but I must have blinked and missed it. I was too busy being irritated by Fair, with her hair hanging around her face, still thinking that standing still and looking stupid made her glamorous, to paraphrase Hedy Lamarr.

Today in silent film history

A landmark for silent AND sound film:

Ronald Colman is born in Richmond, UK, in 1891.

The Show

This one fascinates me. John Gilbert, as Cock Robin (now, there's a name for you!) is the ultimate antihero here; loud, coarse, manipulative, angry, violent, greedy. His usual expression is a hard, suspicious glare. We've all experienced something like it. He is constantly gauging other people, measuring them up, deciding the best way to use them.

He regards women greedily, wondering how much money he can get from them; in an early scene, he tells a besotted young country girl that he will "let" her buy him dinner that night, then later upbraids her for failing to meet him at the restaurant, complaining that he had to buy his own dinner. The man is a nightmare.

Of course, he has a Good Woman in love with him, though in this case, she's not entirely submissive. Salome (Renee Adoree) is Robin's partner in a popular show, which allows him to take advantage of a wide variety of women, and allows her to watch him do it.

We know that the two were involved earlier, and that Salome is deeply jealous of Robin, frightening away the women who are interested in him, which in itself is a full-time job. To complicate matters, the Greek (Lionel Barrymore), another member of the show, has decided that he owns Salome, and is more than ready to kill Robin to get her.

With the exception of an unintentionally funny scene where both Robin and the Greek are trying to avoid an enraged, deadly poisonous killer iguana, the movie is fabulously dark. As a matter of fact, most of the scenes take place after nightfall.

The title is particularly appropriate, because more than one show is seen here. We have the stage show, the one that scares the hell out of the audiences. We have the show that Salome puts on in front of other women, as if she and Robin are truly involved. We have Robin's show, when he masquerades as a dependable human being. And we have the most important shows, both Salome's, concerning her life at home; this is by far the most touching part of the film.

I did like the ending, despite its happy nature. John Gilbert really pulled off the part, and even his transformation - taking place gradually - is believable. Plus, given the tragically early deaths of both the leads (Renee Adoree died of tuberculosis in the early 1930s; John Gilbert was taken by a heart attack in 1936), it's good to see them playing characters who have a solid future ahead of them.

February 1 and 2 in silent film history

February 1:

William Desmond Taylor dies in Hollywood, 1922.
Buster Keaton dies in Los Angeles, 1966.

February 2:

Anna May Wong dies in Santa Monica, California, 1961.
Boris Karloff dies in Midhurst, UK, 1969.

Today in silent film history

1896: Olive Carey is born Olive Fuller Golden in New York City.
1974: Samuel Goldwyn dies in Los Angeles.

Today in silent film history

January 29, 1880: W.C. Fields is born William Claude Dukenfield in Darby, Pennsylvania.

The Wind

Evidently, the original ending was tragic. The ending we have now is happy.

Of course, that all depends on your point of view.

We have the incomparable Lillian Gish coming to a place that must be roughly in the center of hell; desert, no water to be seen, and with a constant windstorm that often kicks into overdrive and does its best to blow the little settlement off the map (no loss, in my opinion).

Not surprisingly, Gish's character, Letty, can't handle the wind. Every time it starts up, her face turns fearful and fearsome; you just wait for her to break. It isn't just the wind, though. There is absolutely nothing of beauty anywhere in the landscape. The people are hard-working and, by the look of them, filled with despair. Some genius has decided to raise cattle in this No Man's Land (with what water? What grass?) and the local men are desperate to keep the operation going.

Rather than throwing in the towel and moving on, they continue to try eking out a living in this area. Letty finds herself stranded in the settlement, penniless, with her friend's ragingly jealous wife having thrown her out of their house. What the friend thinks of this, isn't recorded.

Letty, desperate, marries one of two men who proposed to her on the same night; not surprisingly, she chooses the one who is younger and more attractive, Lige (played by Lars Hanson). A fascinating scene follows, in which Lige takes Letty to his cabin and tries to bed her. When she rebuffs him, you see more of the person he really is. The realization that she has married him for convenience, not love, shatters him and he promises to earn the money to send her away as soon as he can.

The "happy" ending comes after Lige returns from an attempt to capture a band of wild horses to sell to the government, as a way of earning the money to send Letty home. In the meantime, Letty has been raped by another man, who took advantage of a raging windstorm to assault her in the knowledge that Lige could not return for several hours. Letty, in turn, has shot and killed the man, and buried him outside, or rather, let the wind bury him by covering him with the ever-present sand.

At the end, Letty tells Lige that she is in love with him, and that she can stand anything as long as they're together.

Wait. She no longer fears the wind, which almost drove her to a breakdown? She doesn't mind living in the middle of a barren, ugly landscape? She doesn't mind the constant sand drifts? She doesn't mind the very real threat that the whole cabin might blow away, with them in it? She doesn't mind that they'll die poor?

Furthermore, didn't he corral any of the horses, as he set out to do? If he did, he has some money, maybe even enough for both of them to leave the area and find a more hospitable location to live.

I don't see this as a happy ending. Deluded, certainly, but not happy.

Today in silent film history

This is an ongoing one.

On this date in 1990, Madge Bellamy died in Upland, California.

Buster's walk

So many people have imitated Chaplin's walk. I've never seen anyone try to imitate the way Buster Keaton walked, and I've never known anyone to remark on it, either.

It's one of the many things that strike me when I watch him. He has this particular walk, very distinctive, that fits in perfectly with the characters he plays. It's almost a toddle, as if his character is still, primarily, a child. Then he breaks out of it and starts to run, to dance, to climb, but he always returns to that walk.

Even after watching his films over and over again, it's hard to describe it, exactly. He moves through the chaos almost as if it had nothing to do with him (and, often, it doesn't). He toddles, he stumps, he staggers - but whatever he does, it's the right movement for what he is doing at the time. In a way, it's something like a wind-up toy, arms and legs in their own special harmony.

There are none of Chaplin's cane-twirling affectations about Buster; his walk is so much a part of his onscreen character that it can be difficult to focus on it alone. And he never lost it! In the episode of The Twilight Zone ("Once Upon A Time"), he takes on the character, and the walk, with the utmost ease.

Such genius.

Another dream couple

This may raise quite a few eyebrows.

I was thinking about dream couples (see my previous post by that title), and I came up with one that may seem ridiculous, but it works for me:

Lillian Gish and Buster Keaton.

Yes, I know Lillian was noted for tragedy, and Buster for comedy. Some of you may be shrieking, "No! Dorothy was the comedy player, not Lillian!" I know Dorothy was the comedienne of the family, and a good one, but as far as I'm concerned, there wasn't a single thing Lillian couldn't do, on screen or stage. The same is true for Buster.

They both had an amazing ability to do whatever it took to make the scene - and the film - as effective as possible. They both took enormous risks. They were both completely dedicated to their craft. Lillian subjected herself to hypothermia (Way Down East), intense heat and wind (The Wind), and starvation (La Boheme). Buster came within a hair's breadth of drowning (Our Hospitality), stood still while the front of a house fell around him (Steamboat Bill, Jr.), and ran a wild ride on the handlebars of a riderless motorcycle (Sherlock, Jr.).

Buster has an edge here, having suffered a serious injury on the set of Sherlock, Jr. without realizing it, and only discovering more than a decade later that he had broken his neck (the scene where he is dangling from the chain of a water tower, and the flood of water throws him onto the railroad tracks).

Both were perfectionists; both gave it their all.

So, you may ask, in what sort of film could they have costarred?

Answer: I don't know. Light comedy, perhaps; Lillian was noted for her deeply tragic roles, and it would be nice to see a change of pace. One of Buster's misfortunes on film was that his leading ladies - with the exception of Sybil Seely - simply didn't register much; they were there, and they went through the motions. Lillian would never have been one of the bland, faceless crowd; she'd have given as good as she got, and I think they'd have been marvelous together.

A Midnight Dreary

I'm one day ahead, but I couldn't wait any longer.

Tomorrow, January 19, is the 200th birthday of Edgar Allan Poe, inventor of the modern mystery story, whose disappearance and death are as mysterious as anything he himself could ever have written.

I've waded through all sorts of ideas about Poe's death: That it was due to alcohol; that he had contracted rabies; cerebral edema; you name it. Whatever the cause, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Poe would have been delighted to know that he would still be a subject of debate more than 150 years after his death.

A quick look at the IMDb provided an interesting reminder. In 1909, one hundred years ago, and one hundred years after Poe's birth, D.W. Griffith made the short film The Sealed Room, loosely based on Poe's short story "The Cask of Amontillado". In 1914, Griffith made another Poe-inspired film, the truly creepy The Avenging Conscience. In 1915 came a very loose Poe biography (this one from director Charles Brabin).

The link between these films, besides Poe himself, is that they all starred Henry B. Walthall, who made The Sealed Room the same year he began acting in films. By the time The Raven was filmed, Walthall had left Griffith's stable of actors.

Now that we know - well, most of us, I hope - that Poe was maligned by Griswold well after his death, these bygone looks at his life show how he was viewed by long-gone audiences. Poe's life was tragic enough without being accused of alcoholism and drug abuse, but as Mark Twain so aptly put it, "A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes."

The Avenging Conscience is my favorite of the Poe-inspired films. Walthall plays a nameless man who is well and firmly under the thumb of his uncle, and experiencing almost unbearable anguish when the domineering old man refuses to allow the nephew to marry the woman he loves (whom Walthall's character calls Annabel; we never know her real name, either). Walthall was the perfect choice to play the sensitive lover, downtrodden nephew, and unwilling criminal in the film. His scenes with a suspicious police officer will have you on the edge of your seat.

It's sad, but true, that the films have not treated Poe well, by and large. Some of the most dreadful schlock has been "based" on his works; very few of these films are worth watching. The silent films I've seen that have been influenced by Poe - especially the three mentioned here - are the best, in my opinion.

Forevermore, Mr. Poe.

Horrifying news

It seems that the acting director of the National Film Archives of India, based in Pune, has decided to sell off the old films belonging to the archives. Evidently, the smell was unpleasant, and bothered said acting director.

How terrible, to work around an unpleasant smell! Yes, it makes perfect sense for the acting director to throw away film history, our cinematic heritage, to clear the air. Oh, I can hear you saying, but what if the NFAI contains a film, or films, thought to have been lost? It's happened before, in archives worldwide. What if the eternally-wise acting director sells off, or throws away, an irreplaceable screen gem?

Too bad! The smell cannot, must not, be tolerated! Out with the old, and in with the pleasantly-scented! The acting director can't be expected to simply put up with it. Really, how can anyone expect it?

Sarcasm aside, I'd cheer myself hoarse if the acting director were unceremoniously booted from the NFAI, desk contents thrown at him one by one, and forced to take a full-time, minimum-wage job in one of these positions:

Sewer worker
Morgue attendant
Night janitor in the emergency room of an inner-city hospital
Fat renderer
Wastewater plant peon
Cleaning up crime scenes (particularly messy ones, at that)

Really, if the person in charge of a piece of cinematic heritage has such delicate nostrils, he should get a whiff of something really unpleasant.

Another DVD beef

Why is it that, when a special-interest film is released on DVD, some distributors will release a horrible print? Yes, I understand that nitrate stock doesn't hold up. I know it disintegrates. I know it burns like mad. Yes.

And, yes, sometimes by the time it's copied, the process of decomposition has already begun, leaving a lackluster print. As we all know, there isn't unlimited money for film restoration.

My idea is, why don't the distributors list the films they could issue on DVD, with the warning that the films aren't in good shape? It would be so much better than ordering a DVD, waiting eagerly for it to arrive, then playing it, only to find that it's a fifth-generation copy, either so blown-out or so dark that no detail can be seen? If they can issue them on DVD, why not offer a short clip of the film so the would-be buyer can see what the film looks like, in order to make a more informed decision?

I'd love to see fundraising efforts among the public - for example, Company X has a film that needs restoration. Company X tells the target audience that said film needs restoration. Company X tells the target audience where donations can be made. Company X (ideally) offers a lower price on the final product for donors. Film is restored and offered to an enthusiastic public as it should be seen.

Is this a pipe dream?

Murnau, Borzage and Fox box set

I've been drooling over this since I found out it existed. It's about time! The collection contains Murnau's classic film Sunrise and the lesser-known City Girl, as well as Seventh Heaven, Street Angel, and several more (including quite a few talkies).

One beef I have with The Powers That Issue DVDs is that they release all of the worst films imaginable, while the good ones - and I don't just mean silents here - await their turn. Thus, when a set like this is issued, it's cause for rejoicing! I regard Murnau as one of the great geniuses of film, and Borzage's work is very impressive.

I rented Sunrise years ago, on VHS, and the copy was so bad that I lost interest in the film. Years later, I had the opportunity to see it on the big screen. That's when I discovered what I'd been missing. The print was crystal-clear and absolutely beautiful, and the audience - all film fans, or they wouldn't have been there - remained still throughout the screening. It was one of the quietest showings I've ever known. How could it not have been, with that magic on the screen?

The cost of the set has put me off buying it yet, and I'm glad I did. The reviews have been interesting. People adore the films, and the quality of them, but they hate the packaging; it seems that the DVDs are packaged so that they can scratch easily, and they do scratch. I hope Fox takes the hint and protects the DVDs in further issues of the set. Sometimes it's good not to get what you want, right when you want it!

Thanks due

Many thanks to Luke McKernan, who linked to my blog yesterday. A link back to his blog can be found at the bottom of this page. His is a fascinating compendium of all kinds of info concerning silent film (with a large number of links to follow).

Silent film festivals

Okay, I've decided to put up a list of silent film festivals worldwide. I want to note that I am not receiving any advertising money for it; I just wanted a comprehensive list of festivals so that fans can find the one closest to their location. I want to state, however, that I am very open to having any festival pay to advertise on this blog; just leave a comment and I'll find it and contact you by email.

I'm listing these festivals in order of the time of year they take place. If anyone would like to see a festival listed here, please contact me with all the necessary details, and a link to the festival's website. The festival dates for 2009 will be given here, subject to updates.

JANUARY

SLAPSTICK 2009
January 22 – 25
Bristol, England

TRADER JOE'S SILENT MOVIE MONDAYS
January/June, 2009
The Paramont Theatre
Seattle, Washington

FEBRUARY

SAN FRANCISCO SILENT FESTIVAL WINTER EVENT
February 14, 2009
One day only.

KANSAS SILENT FILM FESTIVAL
February 27 and 28, 2009
White Concert Hall
Campus of Washburn University
17th and Jewell
Topeka, Kansas

SEPTEMBER

CINECON
September 3 – 7, 2009
Egyptian Theater
Hollywood, California

SILENT FILM FESTIVAL
September 4 – 6, 2009
Deluxe Theatre
Opotiki, New Zealand

THE FALL CINESATION
FILM PRESERVATION FESTIVAL
September 24 – 27, 2009
Lincoln Theatre
Massillon, Ohio

OCTOBER

LE GIORNATE DEL CINEMA MUTO
October 3 – 10, 2009
Pordenone, Italy


I want to state here that there are more festivals out there, but they hadn't updated their websites from last year, so I couldn't find this year's dates. If you want your festival included, just send a comment!

Lloyd's romances

I'll say it right out: I am not a fan of Chaplin.

Go ahead and scream, then turn on your favorite of his movies; I can watch his work, but I don't view him as a genius. Keaton, yes. Chaplin, no.

However, this post is about Harold Lloyd. I just had to get the Chaplin talk out of the way.

I do like Lloyd, very much; he is second to the great Buster in silent comedy. I like his romantic comedies the best, since he is rather abrasive in some of his earlier films. The movies with Jobyna Ralston are my favorites, not only because of their perfect screen chemistry, but also because of the sweet-natured storylines. Girl Shy is, in my opinion, the best film Lloyd ever made, and it was a wonder to me to discover that it influenced The Graduate, more than forty years later.

When Lloyd isn't being the brash young man, he is very effective and believable in a romantic film. Girl Shy works in large part because the character of Harold Meadows is very shy, withdrawn, and due to a stutter, largely unable to communicate with women - not that he would know what to say to most women anyway, as we see in the film. His meeting with Mary on the train, at first stuttering madly, then talking to such an extent that they don't notice their train has arrived and that they are the only passengers still on it, is one of the best scenes in the film. Lloyd also has Ralston making the first move; as Harold stands outside her taxi, trying to look reserved and studly, Mary leans out and kisses him on the mouth.

Girl Shy and The Freshman have a similar scene concerning the character of Harold and his beloved. In Girl Shy, Harold views Mary's reflection in the water and sighs longingly; in The Freshman, he wipes the soap off the mirror in his room only to see, not himself, but Peggy, standing in the doorway behind him. It works, both times.

In the earlier films I've seen, with Bebe Daniels, there is more of a sexual element to the proceedings; that image of Lloyd and Daniels eating ice-cream cones and eyeing each other, is a prime example. In his films with his soon-to-be-wife, Mildred Davis, this element is toned down somewhat, though Lloyd's characters still tend to grate on the nerves. It's with Jobyna Ralston that he shows a softer, vulnerable side, as when Harold breaks down and cries in Peggy's lap in The Freshman. In The Kid Brother, he is so eager to keep Mary in sight that he climbs ever higher in a tree, then falls out of it. In For Heaven's Sake, after Mary tells him off in public, he smiles in wonderment and gladly tours the mission with her, remarking "Very pretty," as he looks at her, not at the surroundings.

Lloyd could, in my opinion, have been a leading man in dramatic roles, too; he had the talent, and he certainly had the looks! He was very effective at glamming down for his films, hiding his beautiful face under makeup and behind glasses (and when the glasses were removed, people didn't recognize him). On the other hand, had he done so, we might not have this wonderful set of films to view.