GENRE BLAST: The Silents Are Golden

I’m on a rant, so consider yourself warned. I had a genial little chapter on LitFlicks nearly ready for submission when I read a NY Post article by way of the Guardian that cited an American poll that said only 30% of younger audiences have seen a film in black & white and that fewer than 25% had ever watched a film from the 40s or 50s to completion. The primary reason given? “They’re boring.” Now I’ve heard this firsthand before, but it reminded me of some comments I had seen from self-proclaimed “cinephiles” who also claimed they had never seen a silent film, other than a Chaplin short. Seriously?

 Not only does this completely demolish their cinema cred, in my book anyway, it’s a shame that they don’t know what they are missing, which is the evolution of cinematic language. Why? There is nothing in modern cinema that can rival the artistry or imagination of the visuals of a silent film, for one. Yes, the current technology is bigger, louder, and, well, easier, which only increases my appreciation of the accomplishments of silent artists.

 Regarding the “boring” comment, silent films addressed precisely the same themes that are lightning rods for today’s social commentary; e.g. race, morality, ethics, gender roles, romance and things that go bump in the night. Anyone who feels that the approach to societal issues in film 100 years ago is naïve or lacks a modern, pertinent point-of-view has simply been watching the wrong Silents. It’s true, a majority of product was thin and vacuous, pandering to the masses looking for a quick giggle, but remember that currently Netflix’s biggest draws include Adam Sandler’s self-indulgences, which proves we have not evolved much as a collective audience. A quick giggle remains primary aim of a majority of film goers/streamers to this day.

 I don’t like separating Silents from Talkies any more than isolating foreign language from English language films or B&W from colour, but for the sake of this exercise, here are some rewarding Silent Film experiences that weren’t included in other genres.

La roué  (The Wheel)   Abel Gance   (1923)

Gance’s camera tricks and grand appetite for creative storytelling obviously broke ground back in ’23 when the industry was still young, but you would be surprised how effective his style and changing points of view can still dazzle today. Family life, hints of incest and alcoholism, and the working life of the era are his focus. This is pre-Napoleon free falling that originally clocked in at a running time between 7 and 9 hours. Much has been lost, but in Gance’s day, a film was a living thing, open to reediting to various lengths to suit venues. Thanks to this – and the survival of five different prints – a breezy 4 ½ hour version was cobbled together as part of the restoration process.

It      Clarence Badger/Josef von Sternberg   (1927)

The only clown in this romantic comedy is the adorable Clara Bow. Shop clerk Betty Lou knows what she wants (primarily, the boss) and her methods pleased audiences of the day so much that she shot to superstardom immediately. The term, the “It Girl”, entered the public language where it remains to this day. In the original serialized novel by Elinor Glyn, the male had “It” and the female the charmed upper crust life, but moving the focus to Ms Bow was a wise move, creating a blueprint for hundreds of gender pursuit comedies over the decades. Much of the charm and outright laughs come from the current expressions and exclamations that pepper the film. “Hot socks! It’s the boss!”

City Lights     Charlie Chaplin   (1931)

Chaplin was so against sound in films that he, along with FW Murnau, actually had the balls to release silent films in the 1930s. City Lights is probably my go-to Chaplin when I need a lift or a reminder that the world does in fact house good and loving people. It’s no wonder that Chaplin was married four times – his grand affection for life would certainly burn out many spouses. He is at his grandest here as the Tramp who falls for a blind girl and I challenge anyone to watch the film to completion and not be seriously moved. A critic a decade or so after the film was released referred to the last scene as containing, “the best screen acting ever committed to celluloid,” and Chaplin, himself, claimed it as his own favorite. Even more astounding, the director/star and his leading lady didn’t even like each other very much.

Faust   FW Murnau     (1926)

Before he moved to Hollywood to direct the revered Sunrise, Murnau tackled his last German film, the story of a bet between a demon and an archangel that holds the purity of a righteous man as the lynchpin – lose the bet and the world quite literally goes to the Devil. The film is one of the most technically intricate ever made, and some of Murnau’s effects (such as the Black Plague descending onto a town) stand in the upper eschelon, equal to anything tapped from a computer today. Like Gance, Murnau like to adjust his final product and there were eventually up to nine different versions, with different scenes, costumes, and – wait for it – a bear. It is visual brilliance that cannot be contained in a single cut.

The Crowd       King Vidor   (1928)

The personal hardships of a family trying to eke out a living in the urban gristmill won Vidor a nomination for Best Director at the first Oscars. They immediately set the long-famous precedent and gave it to somebody else. His vision was too harsh and realistic for the moguls intent on entertaining the masses entering the Great Depression. The film is all kinds of brilliant. Especially in its honest and clever presentation of urbanization and its impact on one’s ability to have a simple and rewarding life. It was revolutionary filmmaking for the 20s and would be so today – if anybody had any interest in the plight of the common man.

At the minimum, anything by Murnau and Gance are must-see from the era, so don’t make me come over there. OK, rant over. Now I can complete my LitFlicks entry, so let’s see…how many millennial cinephiles still read books? Uh oh. Storm on the horizon.

100 Performances Oscars Forgot – 10/20

RE-POST

Another miserable lot to wet your awards season appetite. Not that I am grumbling, mind, it’s hard to argue with any of the next 5 terrific performances.

Berenice Bejo for The Past (2013) – – – Robin Write @Filmotomy

Here we go again with the actresses of 2013. I know I have covered a few already in this very series. And I’ll never get bored of talking about the immense female talent that year that did not get a mention come Oscar nominations announcement. To the general consensus sucked in by the awards season I think we all agree that perhaps Emma Thompson (Saving Mr. Banks) was the most surprising omission give her form going into the final furlong. The most commanding, naturalistically solid female performance of 2013 though might well have been Berenice Bejo for her remarkable show in Asghar Farhadi’s The Past. We may best know Bejo for lighting up the screen with her song-and-dance, and truly affecting, routine in Best Picture winner The Artist. An Oscar nominee there, and perhaps ought to have won, but her impressive, gripping lead role in The Past was sinfully not even talked up as a contender. In fact as Iran’s Oscar entry they could not even nominate the ever-consistently-brilliant Farhadi for Foreign Language Film. Months earlier Bejo took the Best Actress prize at Cannes, up against some tough competition, once again proving those juries sure know how to highlight true talent. The Past is a bleak gem, and Bejo’s enormous screen presence has so much venom and passion she deserves a lion’s share of the movie’s merit.

Maggie Smith for The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne (1987) – – – Paddy Mulholland @screenonscreen

It’s performances like these that give us Brits a good name! Best known today for playing increasingly tiresome, derivative variations on her brilliant turn in Robert Altman’s Gosford Park, alongside her role in the Harry Potter movies, Dame Maggie Smith’s career is dotted liberally with all-time great performances, none greater than Judith Hearne in Jack Clayton’s 1987 drama. An alcoholic piano teacher in drab 1950s Dublin, Judith lodges with a cruel landlady and her boorish son, and a conniving former doorman whose affections she haplessly seeks. The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne is a portrait of a particularly hapless though hopeful soul, a woman whose misplaced faith in the kindness of other people and the guidance of her church brings her to places of desperation and heartbreak as she struggles to find a place in a society that would rather forget her entirely. Smith is devastating in her portrayal, evoking an intense sympathy in the viewer through her own sympathetic performance. She relishes a role upon which an entire film has been constructed – if that film is occasionally too maudlin for its own good, Smith makes up for it – she’s all the good any film could ever need. She’s a tear-jerker all by herself, an honest and accurate interpretation of arguably this experienced actor’s finest role. It’s not just her finest performance too, it’s one of the finest in all of cinema. A travesty that it was ignored by the Academy, Judith deservingly brought Maggie her fourth of five competitive BAFTAs.

Giulietta Masina for Nights of Cabiria (1957) – – – Asif Khan @KHAN2705

One of Federico Fellini’s greatest classics, Nights of Cabiria features a memorable and impressive performance by his wife Giulietta Masina. She plays a naive prostitute hopelessly searching for something greater through the streets of Rome. Something greater would be better life, better way of living and love. Disappointments, heartbreak, physical abuse, emotional torture is all she receives. Yet despite all that, this titular character always fights back, never stops for a minute and gets up. She is beaten down and cries but self-pity is rarely something she likes to waste her time on. A film I identify the word ‘spiritual’ with. This happy-sad journey of a woman looking for love and happiness just like anyone else is filled with an overwhelming sadness. Fellini beautifully mixes laughter with bitterness, joy with cruelty, hope with sadness and spiritual with vulgar. Giulietta Masina won best actress at Cannes Film Festival and the film was awarded with a foreign language Oscar but sadly, Masina was overlooked. Nights of Cabiria is where we witness one of the greatest actor / director collaborations, in a performance that has since been counted among the brightest and most overwhelming performances ever given by any actor. Masina’s confident and assured dialogue delivery as well as her supremely expressive face is something she was known for. Packed with such graceful as well as tragic moments, Masina’s showstopping final moment when she smiles through her tearful face is the one that devastates you the most.

James McAvoy for Atonement (2007) – – – Robin Write @Filmotomy

In my humble opinion the highly accomplished Atonement did not receive the credit it deserved come the final act of Oscar time. The movie, directed by Brit Joe Wright (somehow not nominated for Best Director) was ultimately swept out to sea in the popularity stakes by There Will be Blood, Juno and No Country for Old Men – very good company all be told. While the delightfully scornful Saoirse Ronan was rightly nominated for Supporting Actress, Keira Knightley and James McAvoy missed out. McAvoy’s Cambridge-educated son-of-house-help Robbie is the object of affection for teenager Briony, but he is in love with her older sister Cecilia. What is most impressive about McAvoy here is the painful journey he takes Robbie on. From the opening longing and sexually driven aura of envy and lust, through eventual betrayal and despair which means Robbie is imprisoned before having to venture into war. As good as he is in the first act, the scenes McAvoy plays in and around Dunkirk really nail him down as a compelling, affecting leading man. His resentment and rage are evident, as he trundles around during war, injured both through physical wounds and a battered heart. His love for Cecilia still shining through, keeping him strong until in the end it is a sorrowful, tragic affair. McAvoy has dabbled with all manner of roles, but this stand-out central performance in Atonement is the peak to which he should be striving.

Kristen Scott Thomas for I’ve Loved You For So Long (2008) – – – Tobi Ogunyemi @spaceliontobi @SpaceLioncs

There is one scene in Philippe Claudet’s searing drama where Thomas’ Juliette is at a dinner party with a friend that she has gotten close with over the course of the narrative, and everyone is trying to figure out what the deal is with beautiful, enigmatic and mysterious Juliette. Centered in the frame and surrounded by all of the guests, she faces them and tells them point blank and center that she was in prison for 15 years for a horrifically personal crime. It’s a damning moment in time for everyone sans Juliette, who has not only internalized her pain and crime, but also unleashes it on others with no regards to their judgment. And Thomas utilizes that quality with such effectiveness – even the many uses of space that the film uses to craft her character around – it gives her the basis to show much much her crime has affected her as a person, a woman, a sister, a mother and so on but also how it affects her in regards to being able to reach out to others as well. How can you reach out to loved ones who want nothing more than for you to do so? It’s a difficult question, but Thomas answers it quite well with her looks, her body language, her moments of crying, yelling and just observing the life around her. A smaller film that went under the radar that year’s award season amongst more recognizable, flasher performances, Thomas’ performance is not only a career best in her oeuvre such as hers but also one the best of emotionally nuanced performances that would benefit more organizations as a whole.

100 Performances Oscars Forgot – 9/20

RE-POST

As that satisfying feeling washed over me editing this very piece, and was about to send it out into the world I noticed the theme of sheer misery running through the images chosen (the order of the 100 is pretty random) – don’t let that visual lack of joy put you off though. Here are 5 more exceptional choices the Academy did not make.

Audrey Tautou for Amélie (2001) – – – Robin Write @Filmotomy

There is some weight in the whole Jean-Pierre Jeunet re-edit media tussle with Harvey Weinstein which apparently went some way to explain how Amélie won none of its 5 Oscar nominations – it was the sure-thing for Best Foreign Language Film. There have been far bigger losers in the Academy’s finicky history though, but I would argue that Amélie was a movie that perhaps warranted even more nominations than a mere 5. Picture? Director? Original Score? Why not? I put forward with heavy, adoring enthusiasm, Audrey Tautou, Amélie Poulain herself. I’m not going to be shy here about my personal passion for this wonderful movie, but Tautou is the beating heart of the picture. She is a nervous-wreck, a bright spark, crop-chopped, doe-eyed and love-struck – the Emma Woodhouse of a surreal, vibrant Paris. Tautou captures and balances all the emotion of a woman’s sadness, joy, worry, hope, in that one beautiful, quirky face. With the turn of a head or a roll of the eyes Amélie is both frank and spontaneous, you see and feel her sheer aim to please – eventually realizing it is her own heart that needs to be fulfilled. Given the sway toward drama come Oscar time it might be easy to understand that Amélie (a foreign language film I might add) was just too wacky and comic for voters’ tastes. I know that is nonsense given there was room for wacky Nicole Kidman (Moulin Rouge!) and comic Renée Zellweger (Bridget Jones’s Diary) in the Best Actress line-up. No offense at all to the other nominees that year, but Tautou is charmingly immaculate here, bringing awe-inspiring levels of depth to Jeunet’s flamboyant and poignant world.

James Dean for Rebel Without a Cause (1955) – – – Asif Khan @KHAN2705

James Dean’s Jim Stark screams “You’re tearing me apart!” at his parents, giving voice to the agonizing confusion and displacement felt by so many teenagers irrespective of the time and place. An iconic role for Dean who had just started working, his second film, but he would die tragically before it was released. Dean became a myth, a legend and a figure for so many to imitate and dream about. It wasn’t only his appearance in the film or the car that he drove, his jacket or his piercing eyes, but this purely physical performance as well. Quite explosive at times, while subdued and internal in others. He didn’t just play his part but really wore and carried it around like it was truly a part of him. Rebel Without a Cause itself a classic of the 50’s, but Dean’s performance was the best of his extremely short career. While nominated for the other two films, he was surprisingly shut out for this exhilarating portrayal. His superb co-stars, Sal Mineo and Natalie Wood though were nominated. Director Nicholas Ray paints such a deeply felt and unshakable portrait of alienated and frustrated suburban American youth, generation gap and decaying morality. Opening to Stark lying drunk on a sidewalk and ending with a major incident that will soon be forgotten. A film admirable for its awareness of various dynamic elements, central to it all was the depiction of these youth helplessly searching for answers that even the adults don’t have. Dean’s exceptional performance as a youth, son, friend, impassioned person, compassionate figure and a doomed rebel is celebrated to this very day.

Elizabeth Olsen for Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011) – – – Tobi Ogunyemi @spaceliontobi @SpaceLioncs

Could one ask for a better screen debut then this quietly devastating performance? If so, could it have been better than, or even close, to what Olsen serves up here in Sean Durkin’s immersive psychological drama? Playing Martha, a young woman who has escaped the sinister clutches of a sex cult held together by John Hawkes’ Patrick, Olsen imbues Martha with the distant damage that carries over from that experience when she escapes but also when she returns to the real world and stays in refuge with her sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and her husband Ted (Hugh Dancy). Olsen frames her character physically in a way that is moving at two opposite ends and tells so much of the overall story; one who is still too used, too comfortable, to the world she has left behind – the manipulation runs deep and she is aware of it – with all of its familiarities. But then there is the end that wants to be her own human again, to be around and connect with others in a ‘normal’ capacity. Olsen’s use of her face, a more than beautiful accessory she wields with such grace, tells that story with blank expressions, haunted looks and an exhausted weariness that Patrick and his clan will come after her at anytime, from anywhere. Perhaps a bit too new, and a bit too raw for mainstream tastes in conjecture to more established personas, one of the best performances of 2011 is just a prime example of what Olsen has in store later down the line in hopefully a long and valued career.

Melora Walters for Magnolia (1999) – – – Jonathan Holmes @MisterBrown_23

You really could pick nearly anyone from P.T. Anderson’s interwoven character drama and make a decent case for a Supporting Actor / Actress nomination, alongside Tom Cruise. My case is for Mrs. Walters as the strung out daughter of game show host Jimmy Gator (Phillip Baker Hall) who wards off the advances of a cop (John C. Reilly). We first see her getting into a loud argument with her estranged father, whom she believes molested her as a child, and does a line of blow, blasting Aimee Mann’s “Momentum” while getting high. The lines about allowing fears to engulf and purposely being stuck in the same rut even when it’s eating the singer alive inside is the perfect representation of this bruised character: Claudia is stuck in this pattern of self-destruction, and yet, her own fears and self-loathing are keeping her going in a bizarre and dysfunctional way. It’s a sad and empathetic portrait of a day in the life of a woman caught in a revolving, recycled self-fulfilling prophecy.

Eric Roberts for Star 80 (1983) – – – Steve Schweighofer @banjoonthecrag

That morning in 1984, following the frenzy that always accompanies the live Oscar nominations, I remember Diane Sawyer exclaiming on the CBS Morning Show, “Poor Eric Roberts!” Indeed. In his second lead role in a major film, Roberts had turned in what should have been a career-making performance as the despicable Paul Snider, the psychotic husband and murderer of Playboy bunny and ingénue actress, Dorothy Stratten. Unfortunately, in this year of Terms of Endearment and Flashdance mindsets, Oscar (and audiences) were turned-off by his balls-to-the-wall performance that went just about as deep as an actor is able to interpret Snider’s internal rage, insecurity and delusion. Star 80 was sadly Bob Fosse’s last film, and one should note that, in ten years, the great Fosse had directed his lead performer to an Oscar nomination / win. This time, however, director and actor flew too close to the sun. Roberts would eventually receive a supporting nod for Runaway Train a few years later – he would lose to Don Ameche, for god’s sake — but personal issues prevented him taking his career to the same heights attained by his little sister, Julia. One can only wonder if the lack of response to his soul-baring performance in Star 80 might have played a role in his meteoric rise and fall.