FilmFanatic.org

Synopsis:
When a renowned conductor (Rex Harrison) is led to believe that his beautiful young wife (Linda Darnell) is cheating on him with his secretary (Kurt Kreuger), he concocts several elaborate scenarios for revenge.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Black Comedy
• Infidelity
• Linda Darnell Films
• Preston Sturges Films
• Revenge
• Rex Harrison Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary accurately notes that this “Preston Sturges comedy about the fury beneath the serene façade of supposedly happy, trusting marriages” is “uncharacteristically cynical”, pointing out that it “lost money and got mixed reviews when it came out”, but that “many modern critics regard it as a masterpiece”; however, he concedes that “while there are some sparkling moments … it’s the worst of Sturges’ forties comedies”. He argues that “the subject itself [is] distasteful”, and that “the throat-slashing of Darnell in the first fantasy is too gruesome for a comedy” — indeed, “it’s impossible to forgive Harrison after he conceives such an act”. He also points out that “except for Harrison’s difficulties with a recording machine” (an extended sequence which comprises “the most chaotic slapstick routine in any Sturges film”), the slapstick is “annoying” rather than funny. Finally, he argues that “Darnell’s character is [not only] given little humorous to say” but is “miscast anyway”, and he laments that “the supporting parts aren’t worthy of the fine actors who play them”.

I’m almost entirely in agreement with Peary’s review of this pitch-black comedy, which I recall finding off-puttingly distasteful as a teenage ff (and which still doesn’t sit quite right with me today). While I’m much better able at this point to appreciate Sturges’ darkly cynical sense of humor (I now find his clever screenplay creatively conceived, at the very least), I’m frustrated by my inability to relate to the central protagonist. Sure, we’ve probably all imagined some form of unpleasant revenge during our darkest moments of fury — but Harrison’s reactions are simply over-the-top, given that he never actually confirms Darnell’s betrayal. Indeed, while I disagree with Peary that Darnell is miscast (I think she does a fine job in a tricky role), we can’t help wondering why she’s so willing to forgive him time and again for his atrocious (real-life) treatment of her. Ultimately, this is a film most ffs will be curious to check out — given that all of Sturges’ films possess moments of brilliance — but not one I’d consider must-see viewing.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Linda Darnell as Daphne
  
• Edgar Kennedy as Detective Sweeney
  
• An often-clever (if simultaneously off-putting) screenplay by Sturges
  

Must See?
No, though Sturges fans will clearly want to check it out, and it’s worth a one-time look.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• FilmSite Review
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
Four stories set in different time periods — ancient Babylonia, 16th century France, the era of Christ, and early 20th century America — portray the toxic outcomes of intolerance and inhumanity.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• D.W. Griffith Films
• Episodic Films
• Falsely Accused
• Historical Drama
• Morality Police
• Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary is almost uniformly positive in his review of D.W. Griffith’s “most ambitious work”, an “epic consist[ing] of four stories that show ‘intolerance’ (religious, political, social) at work”. He refers to it as an “amazing, thrilling movie” (at least when “seen on a large screen”), and calls it, “in the limited terms of visual storytelling, probably the greatest of all films”. He notes that “Griffith exhibit[s] unparalleled visual power during the individual segments”, but that “his real strength is in editing”, given that he’s “able to build suspense within episodes by strategically mixing perfectly timed long-shots and extreme close-ups”, and to build suspense “for the entire film by cutting back and forth between the various episodes so that they all build to their climaxes at the same time”. He points out that Griffith’s “montage techniques were studied and copied worldwide”, making this an undeniably ‘historically relevant’ film, one which all film fanatics will surely want to visit at some point.

With that said, there’s no denying that this three-hour-long silent movie will, for most ffs, feel like a bit of a long haul to get through. While Peary’s only complaint about the film is that Griffith’s “theme of ‘intolerance’ is a feeble link between the episodes” (he notes that Griffith “seems passionate only about the modern story”), I would argue that Griffith’s overly pedantic presentation style comes across as terribly dated throughout, and will be off-putting to most young ffs. Meanwhile, his groundbreaking attempt to weave numerous stories together has the unfortunate side effect of shifting our attention away from each scenario just as we’re beginning to make sense of it (and the characters). Indeed, despite its undeniable historical value, it’s difficult for me to agree with Peary that “this film has greatness written all over it”, simply given that it doesn’t touch me on an emotional level. I’m ultimately much more aligned with the sentiment of Time Out’s reviewer, who argues that despite the film’s “overwhelming” “visual poetry”, its “thematic approach no longer works”, and the “title cards are [both] stiffly Victorian and sometimes laughably pedantic”. As Chris Edwards argues in his “Silent Volume” blog, Intolerance “is not a silent film for someone new to the medium.”

Of special interest, however, is what Time Out’s reviewer refers to as “the unbridled eroticism of the Babylon harem scenes”, which “demonstrate just what Hollywood lost when it later bowed to the censorship of the Hays Code”; indeed, these scenes are presented with such surprising casualness and lack of moral approbation that one can’t help feeling a renewed respect for Griffith’s sensibilities. Meanwhile, the enormously expensive, expansive sets truly are astonishing, and the lengthy recreation of a Babylonian battle is especially impressive in its rigor and attention to detail. I’m also fond of Mae Marsh’s performance as the female protagonist of the modern episode, playing a young woman whose falsely accused husband (Robert Harron) simply can’t seem to get a break in life; while her travails are presented in an overly melodramatic fashion, we remain fascinated throughout by her uniquely expressive face.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Stunningly grandiose sets
  
• Refreshingly unbridled Pre-Code sensuality (during the Babylonian “Love Palace” scenes)
  
• Mae Marsh as the Dear One
  

Must See?
Yes, simply for its historical relevance. Available for free viewing at www.archive.org.

Categories

• Historically Relevant

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

• IMDb entry
• Silent Volume Review
• FilmSite Review
• TCM Article
• Combustible Celluloid Review
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
In pre-Revolutionary Russia, sailors on the Battleship Potemkin mutiny against their superiors after being served bowls of maggoty soup. When one of their men (Aleksandr Antonov) is killed, they decide to rise up collectively against the Czarist regime.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Historical Drama
• Mutiny
• Revolutionaries
• Russian Films
• Sailors
• Sergei Eisenstein Films
• Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary begins his review of Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin by pointing out that it was “probably the first or second film you saw in your Introduction to Film course” (that’s certainly true for me!). He goes on to concede that since at the time you likely “knew little about 20th-century Russian history and the importance of the film in that history or cared [much] about the importance of ‘montage’ in film history, you probably fell asleep” (or, like me, simply didn’t understand what all the fuss was about). But he argues that “if you see it again… then you’ll understand why critics and devoted filmgoers regard it as one of the greatest pictures of all time”. Indeed, though I’ve seen certain sections (most notably, of course, “The Odessa Steps”) several times in different contexts, I only recently revisited the film again as a complete narrative, and — with years of film appreciation and viewing now under my belt — I’ll admit I was duly impressed.

As Peary notes, this “first non-documentary about a political action/historical event proved not only that a cleverly edited series of images could draw viewers into the film’s action and stimulate the emotions but also that the juxtaposition of two images — one of a character, the other of a symbolic object/prop — was a valuable propaganda device because it forced viewers to deduce that the symbol relates to the character”. Peary points out that in the remarkably effective opening section of the film (the first of five), “Eisenstein builds tension by cutting back and forth between armed guards and helpless sailors”. In the film’s most celebrated (third) section — in which “the Czar’s forces march down the ‘Odessa Steps’ and massacre men, women, and children in their path” — Eisenstein similarly “builds tension and creates terror by cutting back and forth between marching faceless soldiers and their victims (whose scared faces are shown in close-ups).” (Indeed, this sequence is so relentlessly devastating that virgin viewers deserve a few words of forewarning — and if you haven’t seen it in a while, get ready to feel your stomach in your throat.)

Peary further points out that during the Odessa Steps sequence, “time stands still, so what would take place in seconds goes on and on — [the] camera pans down the steps, moves back to where the soldiers are, and we start over again”. He notes that “there’s an odd rhythm to the sequence, so that we feel things are going fast (too fast for the victims to think clearly) but simultaneously feel that the cruelty will never stop”; he then makes a potent connection between ‘The Odessa Steps’ and the most famous horror movie sequence of all time — the shower scene in Hitchcock’s Psycho. He concludes his review by noting simply that Potemkin (which circulated in various states of disrepair and politically strategic editing for decades, and was recently restored) is “certainly as influential as The Birth of a Nation and Citizen Kane.” It’s a film which, despite its seemingly distant and foreign subject matter, bears multiple viewings, simply for its overall cinematic impact.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• The opening mutiny sequence
  
  
• The truly devastating, infamous Odessa Steps sequence
  
  
• Countless memorable images (highlighted through Eisenstein’s incomparable use of montage)
  
  

Must See?
Of course; this one is a no-brainer must-see, at least once.

Categories

• Genuine Classic
• Historically Relevant
• Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

• IMDb entry
• Onion A.V. Club Review
• Silent Volume Review
• Roger Ebert’s Review
• DVD Savant Review
• Combustible Celluloid Review
• TCM Article
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A movie projectionist (Buster Keaton) is falsely accused of stealing a watch owned by the father (Joe Keaton) of the girl he’s in love with (Kathryn McGuire), and soon finds out the crime was really committed by his rival (Ward Crane). While napping on the job, Keaton imagines himself entering into the movie he’s projecting, where he takes on the persona of a suave detective and attempts to solve a jewelry heist, also committed by Crane.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Amateur Sleuths
• Buster Keaton Films
• Comedy
• Falsely Accused
• Love Triangle
• Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary points out that this “dazzling, surreal comedy” — the “most technically innovative feature of the silent era” — had at the time of his book’s publication “finally achieved [the] masterpiece status” it so richly deserves. He notes that, like in Woody Allen’s The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) (which clearly “borrowed [this film’s] daring premise”), it “explores the nature of film, both as an art form and as a world to which those with wild imaginations can escape…; it treads the fine line between dream and reality, art and life”. In sum, it’s a movie film fanatics will readily embrace, and see much of themselves in.

After discussing the “brilliantly conceived and edited scene” in which Keaton “dreams that he walks toward the screen and climbs into the action”, Peary highlights just a few of the film’s many others “great moments” — including “Keaton riding on the handlebars of a fast-moving, driverless motorcycle, [Keaton] playing expert pool, and, in a bit you have to see to believe, [Keaton] escaping during a chase sequence by diving into a small case held by a peddler woman (actually his male assistant) and apparently disappearing through her body”. He labels the action in the film “furiously paced, inventive, [and] stupefying”, and ends his review by noting that this “picture is proof positive that Keaton was more in control of and in love with the film medium than Chaplin”. (Ah, the enduring Chaplin-versus-Keaton wars — even Peary, an avowed Chaplin fan, clearly can’t help taking a stance.)

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• The hilarious “lost dollar” sequence
  
• Keaton’s initial entry onto the screen
  
• The billiard ball sequence
  
• The vaudevillian peddler-woman sequence
  
• The expertly timed chase scene
  
• The quietly knowing and hilarious final sequence
  

Must See?
Yes, as one of Keaton’s greatest films — and that’s saying a lot!

Categories

• Genuine Classic

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

• IMDb entry
• DVD Savant Review
• TCM Article
• Silent Volume Review