Originally posted to Facebook on 8/1/2018
The Wind was our fifth film from 1928, reuniting Lillian Gish, Lars Hanson, and director Victor Sjöström from 1926's The Scarlet Letter. All three, particularly Sjöström and Gish, had been prominent figures in the movie industry since the beginning of features, and we have seen them all multiple times. Also returning from The Scarlet Letter was Frances Marion, who wrote or adapted not only these two films, but several others we've seen, including 1917's Tillie Wakes Up, 1918's Stella Maris, 1925's Lazybones, and 1927's The Red Mill. She later went on to be nominated for three writing Oscars, winning two.
Like The Crowd last week, The Wind is a rather well-known film which, however, does not appear to have an easily obtainable English language release. I again bought a Spanish language DVD ("El Viento"), but we instead ended up watching a version DVRed off TCM, where it happened to be playing. I'd hoped that the TCM version would have featured a better print, but sadly that was not the case. Often the picture was muddy or too dark, and it could clearly use a significant restoration. TCM actually prefaced the film with a 1983 introduction by Gish herself, taped when she was almost 90. In it she tells a few stories about the making of the film -- which I thought about showing to the kids until I saw an article (https://bit.ly/1SIaaTM -- spoilers included) which convincingly debunked them.
The film itself concerns Gish traveling west alone, to live with her cousin, played by Edward Earle. Once there, she finds she is not entirely welcome, especially by his jealous wife Cora, played by Dorothy Cumming, and eventually she is kicked out of their house. At that point, the most palatable options presented to her are marrying one of two suitors -- either Sourdough, a sixty-something prospector-ish character, played by William Orlamond, or Lige, played by Hanson. She unsurprisingly chooses Hanson, despite Ben's vocal disagreement ("If you have the chance to become Mrs. Sourdough, you take it.") The movie eventually heads into rather dark, pre-code, PG-13ish territory. Among other things, Gish's character, having been not only pummeled by life, but also now living in an inhospitable climate, including the constant wind, begins to show signs of mental deterioration. She gives a very good, skittish performance, probably her best that we've seen -- similar to the martyrs she's played before, but more layered and calibrated. Sjöström's direction is characteristically assured as well -- not showy, but with personality; I suspect that personality would shown through even more strongly had we been watching a better print.
Next week's movie, our sixth from 1928, is The Cameraman, a Buster Keaton movie - the third film of his we've seen. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT
This is an account of an ongoing project to chronologically watch a selection of films from each year with my kids, starting in 1893 and continuing up through the present.
Showing posts with label Lars Hanson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lars Hanson. Show all posts
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Flesh and the Devil (1926)
Originally posted to Facebook on 4/15/2018
Flesh and the Devil was our third film from 1926, and it starred John Gilbert and Lars Hanson, both of whom we've seen as leads before, and Greta Garbo, whom we haven't. It is also the first film we've seen directed by Clarence Brown, who is not a well-known name today, but who shares the distinction with Alfred Hitchcock, King Vidor, and Robert Altman for having the most Best Director Oscar nominations without ever winning. We'd seen Gilbert recently in 1925's The Big Parade, and Lars Hanson even more recently in 1926's The Scarlet Letter, directed by Victor Sjöström. Like Hanson and Sjöström, Garbo had recently moved to Hollywood from Sweden, where she was an established film star, and had in fact already appeared on screen there with Hanson.
In this movie close friends Hanson and Gilbert are soldiers together, and become involved in a love triangle with Garbo. This film often lapses into melodrama, but the relationship between Gilbert and Garbo is surprisingly naturalistic, probably enhanced by their real-life off-screen relationship.
But, not unlike Wings, the movie's ultimate aim is to elevate the importance of the two men's friendship over their rivalry for Garbo, though this is undermined by the fact that their friendship is strained less by their mutual love of Garbo than by the fact that Gilbert hides the truth from Hanson. Garbo, as it is gradually revealed, is basically amoral and hedonistic, which results in some strong scenes for her, but also serves to lower the moral stakes, as it absolves (or at least the movie seems to think so) Gilbert and Hanson of any responsibility for the various consequences, including those in a particularly manipulative finale. Still, the film is notable for its performances, the chemistry between Garbo and Gilbert particularly.
Next week, we see The Flying Ace, our fourth film from 1926, which is what used to be called a "race film," and features a cast of African-American actors, who have been notably missing in almost all of the films we've seen to date. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT
Flesh and the Devil was our third film from 1926, and it starred John Gilbert and Lars Hanson, both of whom we've seen as leads before, and Greta Garbo, whom we haven't. It is also the first film we've seen directed by Clarence Brown, who is not a well-known name today, but who shares the distinction with Alfred Hitchcock, King Vidor, and Robert Altman for having the most Best Director Oscar nominations without ever winning. We'd seen Gilbert recently in 1925's The Big Parade, and Lars Hanson even more recently in 1926's The Scarlet Letter, directed by Victor Sjöström. Like Hanson and Sjöström, Garbo had recently moved to Hollywood from Sweden, where she was an established film star, and had in fact already appeared on screen there with Hanson.
In this movie close friends Hanson and Gilbert are soldiers together, and become involved in a love triangle with Garbo. This film often lapses into melodrama, but the relationship between Gilbert and Garbo is surprisingly naturalistic, probably enhanced by their real-life off-screen relationship.
But, not unlike Wings, the movie's ultimate aim is to elevate the importance of the two men's friendship over their rivalry for Garbo, though this is undermined by the fact that their friendship is strained less by their mutual love of Garbo than by the fact that Gilbert hides the truth from Hanson. Garbo, as it is gradually revealed, is basically amoral and hedonistic, which results in some strong scenes for her, but also serves to lower the moral stakes, as it absolves (or at least the movie seems to think so) Gilbert and Hanson of any responsibility for the various consequences, including those in a particularly manipulative finale. Still, the film is notable for its performances, the chemistry between Garbo and Gilbert particularly.
Next week, we see The Flying Ace, our fourth film from 1926, which is what used to be called a "race film," and features a cast of African-American actors, who have been notably missing in almost all of the films we've seen to date. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT
Saturday, April 13, 2019
The Scarlet Letter (1926)
Originally posted to Facebook on 4/7/2018
The Scarlet Letter was our first film from 1926. We saw it at the Library of Congress's Packard campus, which is more than an hour's drive south, in Culpeper. The main reason I decided to make a trip that long with the kids was that the 1926 version of The Scarlet Letter -- despite being a well-rated and popular picture at the time -- is not easily available, either streaming or on disc. A good print exists for it, and it is occasionally shown on TCM, but for whatever reason it does not appear to be obtainable via my normal method of half-heartedly googling. By contrast, the 1934 version with Colleen Moore can be purchased from multiple sources, and I saw more than one complaint from people who thought they had ordered the earlier version and received the later. Their vocal and proportionate responses were much as you might expect.
I had never been to the Packard campus before, and did not know what to expect. As it turns out it has very much of a museum approach to screenings. No popcorn was available, for instance, much to the kids' disappointment, and we had to go through a metal detector prior to the movie. Additionally there was a short lecture before the film, which was interesting -- I did not know, for instance, that Sjöström had spent a good chunk of his childhood in the United States -- but not generally the approach we'd been taking with this project.
As with He Who Gets Slapped, this film unites director Victor Sjöström with an established Hollywood star -- in this case Lillian Gish -- whom we hadn't seen since 1920's Way Down East. It also stars Lars Hanson, another Swedish émigré, who had worked with Sjöström before coming to Hollywood, and would do so again, both in Hollywood and also after they'd both returned to Sweden.
I have never read The Scarlet Letter, nor seen any other adaptation, but I had a pretty good idea of the plot just through cultural osmosis. As an aside, the logo of a company at which I worked for several years is the word Harris, with the A in Harris dramatically drawn in red. While working there I occasionally asked what this scarlet A was meant to represent, and whether it implied that something shameful had occurred that the company was being punished for. I don't believe this ever amused anyone besides me, but it did make me think that there were probably a few layers of executive leadership who had a limited knowledge of English literature. In case any of them are reading this, Hester Prynne (played by Gish) lives in 17th century Massachusetts, and becomes pregnant through an affair with a local minister (played by Hanson.) Unwilling to expose the father, she is sentenced to wear the scarlet letter A -- for adulteress -- and she and her daughter live under that burden of shame, while the minister also, secretly, lives with similar shame and guilt. The lead role is very much on-brand for Gish, who again plays a living martyr. Additionally, though she was in her mid-thirties at this point, she credibly plays someone who I believe was supposed to be a decade younger. Hanson too, does a solid job of playing someone tormented by repression and guilt. Sjöström's direction is as good as you'd expect, though a bit more conservative than in his earlier films.
The original novel was written in 1850, and set two hundred years earlier, and the movie of course follows suit. I think, at times, setting a story in the past allows one to reflect on what has and hasn't changed -- but just as often I think it allows the audience to undeservedly congratulate themselves for living in a more enlightened age. I think that is why many films about civil rights, for instance, are set in the past, and I think that criticism could apply to this film as well. As a story about specific people, I think it works fairly well -- but I think the specific situation they find themselves in manifests itself in such an archaic way that it creates a barrier to linking it to a universal experience.
Next week we see The General, our second film from 1926, and our second Buster Keaton feature. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT
The Scarlet Letter was our first film from 1926. We saw it at the Library of Congress's Packard campus, which is more than an hour's drive south, in Culpeper. The main reason I decided to make a trip that long with the kids was that the 1926 version of The Scarlet Letter -- despite being a well-rated and popular picture at the time -- is not easily available, either streaming or on disc. A good print exists for it, and it is occasionally shown on TCM, but for whatever reason it does not appear to be obtainable via my normal method of half-heartedly googling. By contrast, the 1934 version with Colleen Moore can be purchased from multiple sources, and I saw more than one complaint from people who thought they had ordered the earlier version and received the later. Their vocal and proportionate responses were much as you might expect.
I had never been to the Packard campus before, and did not know what to expect. As it turns out it has very much of a museum approach to screenings. No popcorn was available, for instance, much to the kids' disappointment, and we had to go through a metal detector prior to the movie. Additionally there was a short lecture before the film, which was interesting -- I did not know, for instance, that Sjöström had spent a good chunk of his childhood in the United States -- but not generally the approach we'd been taking with this project.
As with He Who Gets Slapped, this film unites director Victor Sjöström with an established Hollywood star -- in this case Lillian Gish -- whom we hadn't seen since 1920's Way Down East. It also stars Lars Hanson, another Swedish émigré, who had worked with Sjöström before coming to Hollywood, and would do so again, both in Hollywood and also after they'd both returned to Sweden.
I have never read The Scarlet Letter, nor seen any other adaptation, but I had a pretty good idea of the plot just through cultural osmosis. As an aside, the logo of a company at which I worked for several years is the word Harris, with the A in Harris dramatically drawn in red. While working there I occasionally asked what this scarlet A was meant to represent, and whether it implied that something shameful had occurred that the company was being punished for. I don't believe this ever amused anyone besides me, but it did make me think that there were probably a few layers of executive leadership who had a limited knowledge of English literature. In case any of them are reading this, Hester Prynne (played by Gish) lives in 17th century Massachusetts, and becomes pregnant through an affair with a local minister (played by Hanson.) Unwilling to expose the father, she is sentenced to wear the scarlet letter A -- for adulteress -- and she and her daughter live under that burden of shame, while the minister also, secretly, lives with similar shame and guilt. The lead role is very much on-brand for Gish, who again plays a living martyr. Additionally, though she was in her mid-thirties at this point, she credibly plays someone who I believe was supposed to be a decade younger. Hanson too, does a solid job of playing someone tormented by repression and guilt. Sjöström's direction is as good as you'd expect, though a bit more conservative than in his earlier films.
The original novel was written in 1850, and set two hundred years earlier, and the movie of course follows suit. I think, at times, setting a story in the past allows one to reflect on what has and hasn't changed -- but just as often I think it allows the audience to undeservedly congratulate themselves for living in a more enlightened age. I think that is why many films about civil rights, for instance, are set in the past, and I think that criticism could apply to this film as well. As a story about specific people, I think it works fairly well -- but I think the specific situation they find themselves in manifests itself in such an archaic way that it creates a barrier to linking it to a universal experience.
Next week we see The General, our second film from 1926, and our second Buster Keaton feature. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT
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