Coquette.

Review #1331: Coquette.

Cast: 
Mary Pickford (Norma Besant), Johnny Mack Brown (Michael Jeffery), Matt Moore (Stanley Wentworth), John St. Polis (Dr. John Besant), William Janney (Jimmy Besant), Henry Kolker (Jasper Carter), George Irving (Robert Wentworth), and Louise Beavers (Julia) Directed by Sam Taylor (#667 - The Freshman, #727 - For Heaven's Sake, #758 - Safety Last!, #864 - Hot Water, #903 - Dr. Jack, #918 - Why Worry?, and #938 - Girl Shy)

Review: 
"I am no longer in pictures for money. I am in them because I love them. I am not in vain. I do not care about giving a smashing personal performance. My one ambition is to create fine entertainment."

Mary Pickford was a star in a time of transition for Hollywood in 1929. Born in Toronto, Canada in 1892, she had grown up with the theatre from a young age, with her mother having taken the suggestion of one of her boarders, a theatrical stage manager to give her two daughters small roles in a production. Years of touring with her family in the theatre were soon changed in 1909 after encountering D. W. Griffith (of the Biograph Company at the time) for a screen test, which led to her being hired to appear (both in bit parts and lead roles) in the company's films; despite not being credited, she received notices from audiences. She left for Adolph Zukor’s Famous Players studio in 1912 and found continued success with films such as Tess of the Storm Country (1914) and The Poor Little Rich Girl (1917). Pickford was also an innovator when it came to studios, as she was one of the co-founders of United Artists in 1919 alongside Griffith, Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks, which was formed on the premise of giving creative control to the actors and directors. The burgeoning of the sound era did not deter Pickford from acting. Although she had famously said that adding sound to film would be "like putting lip rouge on the Venus de Milo", Pickford was nervous but ready to debut her voice onto film (she had not appeared in a film since My Best Girl in 1927). When she heard her voice for the first time for a test, she remarked that she sounded like a pipsqueak (ironic for someone who had played numerous child characters since a teenager). She soon did voice training to try and get herself ready to play this southern role with equipment that would try to stick out from the stagey static sound films that encompassed the early sound films.

The film was adapted to the screen by John Grey, Allen McNeil, and director Taylor from the play of the same name by George Abbott and Ann Preston Bridgers, which had featured Helen Hayes in the main role. The play was about a flirty young woman who has to decide what to do after her father kills the man she loves. The manner of who commits suicide is actually the choice of the main character (who was pregnant), as opposed to the film, where it is the father who does so in the midst of his court trial, where his daughter struggles to try and save her father from a death sentence. As for the film itself, it is one that seems more appropriate to give slack for rather than one to give much credit for. It is a middling affair, helmed by a fairly confident Pickford and not much else. It is a fairly clunky affair, filled with plenty of stagy staleness begging to be drawn out more through a 76 minute time that somehow seems ten minutes too long. One would wish more from Pickford, only to realize that she is the key in keeping it from collapsing into being forgettable all together. She seems bright and vivid in a way that the rest of actors are left to act around her with a bit too much camp to go around. There would be plenty of stories to tell about flirtatious or quirky Southern folk to come, some classics and some not: this is one that twists in the wind of the latter category.

Pickford (a founding member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) lobbied with a publicity campaign when it came time to awards season (whereas other nominees didn't even know they were nominated), the first of its kind that seems routine nowadays (with this case being inviting the judges for tea at her estate Pickfair). In any case, Pickford won for Best Actress at the 2nd annual ceremony. She would appear in four more films in the next four years before retiring from acting (although she would keep producing before selling her UA stocks in the 1950s). While the film may not hold itself too well after nine decades, it has not stopped Pickford from enduring as one of film's first and brightest stars, where the term of "America's Sweetheart" just seemed fairly appropriate for her.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: As you could tell, Tribute to the Decades decided to go all out and actually try to cover each year for the 1920s. As such, it will continue for the 1930s.

The Broadway Melody.

Review #1330: The Broadway Melody.

Cast: 
Anita Page (Queenie Mahoney), Bessie Love (Harriet "Hank" Mahoney), Charles King (Eddie Kearns), Jed Prouty (Uncle Jed), Kenneth Thomson (Jacques Warriner), Edward Dillon (Stage Manager), Mary Doran (Flo), and Eddie Kane (Zanfield) Directed by Harry Beaumont

Review: 
It can be an interesting experience looking at an old film musical and think about the effort that it must have taken to make it come out to the screen, particularly when it comes to talking about the beginning of the sound era along with the studio of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. The company had begun in 1924 as a merger of three studios: Metro Pictures Corporation, Goldwyn Pictures, and Louis B. Mayer Pictures, since Marcus Loew desired better quality for films to distribute with Loew's Theatres along with find someone to run operations in Hollywood, which is where Mayer comes into the picture, alongside with Irving Thalberg (whose first notable film as a producer was The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923), which he did at 24) as production head. The studio became prolific very quickly, releasing major films such as Ben-Hur (1925), with a desire to tap into a need from the audience for stars and stories to go alongside them (whether through adapting works or big spectacle). Interestingly enough, MGM could have had a different fate before the decade would pass. William Fox from Fox Film Corporation had desired to expand his grip, seizing an opportunity to buy the holdings of MGM upon the death of Loew in 1927. Strong connections from Mayer, combined with an severe automobile accident involving Fox in late 1929 and the Wall Street crash ended any possibility of a possible merger. In any case, it should only figure that MGM's first full-talkie film would be a musical - what better way to attract appeal than with singing, talking, and dancing in one film. The original version of the film even had a Technicolor sequence included (which is now lost to time).

With all that in mind, one can then note how the film hasn't quite aged as well as others of its decade. It was a big hit with audiences and Academy voters for its day, but to me it is a bit of a clunker. Not every great film gets to have awards or initial recognition, but they manage to find a way to having staying power and interest after several decades. This is one of those cases where one can acknowledge some of the triumphs it must have had nine decades ago while still seeing it as a pretty mediocre experience. Beyond the clunkiness of the dialogue and okay direction is a movie that can do a bunch of singing and dancing but can't really sell its characters as anything other than cliches. Is it really a cliche if its the 1920s? If it seems like a cliche and looks like one, by golly it must be a cliche. Nobody seems to have chemistry with anybody, and the conclusion of its love triangle (or perhaps square since it really involves four people) seems awkwardly silly (getting punched out by a rich jerk when trying to help the younger sister of the girl you were involved with and then getting with said younger sister? ...sure, why not). The singing (aided through the music of Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics by Arthur Freed, both key MGM music figures) is fair, in the sense that one isn't checking their watch as much when compared to seeing a barely moving camera with mild actors trying to warm up pale characters on screen. Page and Love come out decently enough, in that they seem fitting to see perform on a screen moreso than when trying to be on-screen sisters. King may have been a vaudeville and Broadway actor, but that doesn't mean he brings the screen presence needed to really drive himself forward in interest. In other words, I don't really find myself gravitating attention to him in interest when on screen. Technically Prouty attracts attention, in that one can't really forget a stutterer - he isn't exactly funny, but then again the film's best hope is trying to not be unintentionally funny to pick at with its characters, so there's that. Look, this is a film that comes and goes at 100 minutes without too much trouble in delivering a fair bit of sound without devolving itself too much into noise for the sake of it. It has that kind of dated quality like The Jazz Singer had, but that film managed to pass off better with its sentiment and charm than this does. There exist three further Broadway Melody films (1936, 1938, 1940), in the sense that they aren't necessarily sequels but rather share a basic premise involving putting on a show, and there was even a remake with Two Girls on Broadway (1940). Whatever one prefers when it comes to a musical, there exist plenty to choose from, whether in starting with the 1920s or later. This isn't a bad one to go with as a companion to early talkie musicals, even if it isn't necessarily a great one to cherish as much as others could.

Next Time - Coquette, with Mary Pickford. Also, an announcement.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Pandora's Box (1929).

Review #1329: Pandora's Box.

Cast: 
Louise Brooks (Lulu), Fritz Kortner (Dr. Ludwig Schön), Francis Lederer (Alwa Schön), Carl Goetz (Schigolch), Krafft-Raschig (Rodrigo Quast), Alice Roberts (Countess Augusta Geschwitz), Daisy D'ora (Charlotte Marie Adelaide von Zarnikow), Gustav Diessl (Jack the Ripper), Michael von Newlinsky (Marquis Casti-Piani), and Sigfried Arno (The Stage Manager) Directed by G. W. Pabst.

Review: 
One could apply the cliche that any year is a turning point for film, or say that it was a year of big change. To add another cliche, 1929 was a special year for film in numerous aspects. The era of the silent films was soon to be a thing of the past (or at the very least wasn't as popularly used). Musicals were now getting to be a trend to look for in the rushes (along with making sure they can say the words in the microphone without trouble). The first Academy Awards were presented by presented by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on May 16 (with winners announced months before the event), where it had silent films regarded as the most outstanding and unique (Wings and Sunrise, respectively), which wouldn't happen again for over 80 years. But hey, every decade brings in and lets out film stars onto the screen (some on their own terms), and one who burned just as bright as others in terms of electric presence was Louise Brooks. Brooks had spent the earlier parts of the decade in dance, having joined the Denishawn School of Dancing and Related Arts company at 15 in 1922, although she was dismissed two years later. Her work with the Ziegfeld Follies (noted for their revue productions on Broadway since 1907) led to interest from Paramount Pictures and a contract in 1925. In the four years prior to Pandora's Box, she had appeared in thirteen films (the last one being The Canary Murder Case, a film she refused to do sound re-takes for). She made three films in Europe (the last being Miss Europe in 1930), but she appeared in just six more films in the following eight years, which she had attributed to be informally blacklisted from Paramount (declining an offer to star in The Public Enemy did not help matters either). As for Pabst (born in Austria), he had begun his film career in 1923 with The Treasure, had a knack for developing talent as a important director during the Weimer Republic. He had directed films with actresses who would become stars, such as Greta Garbo and Leni Riefenstahl. The film was based on two plays (generally referred to as the Lulu cycle) from German playwright Frank Wedekind - Erdgeist (Earth Spirit) and Die Büchse der Pandora, which were performed in 1895 and 1904, respectively. The two plays also served as the basis for an opera by Alban Berg that would premiere in 1937, and the first play had been adapted for film in 1923.

In any case, it would seem the choice by Pabst to use Brooks (with Marlene Dietrich as a second choice) paid off in the long run. Who else could pull off such an exotic and absorbent performance? It may be a silent role, but she sure likes someone doing a modern performance, one that stood out from other performers of the era with such magnetic desperate energy that compels attention each minute she is on screen, driving chemistry (and ruin) with her co-stars in a frank and honest manner, which still resonates after over nine decades and plenty of dramas across the world, whether silent (like this one) or not. She just has the energy to be oneself in passion without needing a trick in hand. Kortner and the others follow along with fair results, where one can see themselves drawn in to a spark from their eyes without needing to fall back to sentimentality, which go well for Lederer and Goetz. It clicks on its sensibilities with an eye for the crowd without needing to overload the senses, where shock for a scene (such as its death scenes) doesn't seem inauthentic. For such a transgressive film, it is no surprise that there were numerous versions shown in theaters with notable edits. In one version, Lederer's character is changed from being Kortner's son to his secretary. In another, the ending gets rid of Jack the Ripper and has the main character join the Salvation Army. In any case, the film has managed to survive to find in the market of curiosity at 133 minutes alongside other films of its ilk, a winner for the 1920s that maintains standing after several decades on the heels (and bob haircut) of its main star, who endures now on the basis of work abroad like this - and for good reason.

Next Time: As it turns out, 1929 is a triple-header extravaganza. What better way to move forward with seeing the progression of film than The Broadway Melody? 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

In Old Arizona.

Review #1328: In Old Arizona.

Cast: 
Warner Baxter (The Cisco Kid), Edmund Lowe (Sergeant Mickey Dunn), Dorothy Burgess (Tonia Maria), Henry Armetta (Barber), James Bradbury Jr. (Soldier), Joe Brown (Bartender), Frank Campeau (Man Chasing Cisco), John Webb Dillion (Second Soldier), Alphonse Ethier (Sheriff), Jim Farley (Townsman), Pat Hartigan (Cowpuncher), and Soledad Jiménez (Tonita the Cook) Directed by Irving Cummings.

Review: 
In Old Arizona premiered on Christmas Day of 1928 (with general release to come in the following days) as a pioneer for Westerns and for talking films. It is the first major Western in sound, and it is the first talkie with outdoor scenes. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) had been the first film from Fox Film to use the Fox Movietone sound-on-film system (which it used for a synchronized music score and sound effects). Now it is used here to make something in line with other Westerns adapted from previous material. The film is adapted from O. Henry's 1907 short story "The Caballero's Way". In the original story, The Cisco Kid was a killer for sport, as opposed to the more sympathetic portrayals in adaptations, although this does keep the ending from the original. There had been two adaptations of the work in the previous decade, and there would be further films to follow with the character in the next three decades (with Baxter playing the role four more times) along with a radio and television series. Baxter had started his career as an extra in 1914, gradually finding bigger roles over the 1920s, such as Sheltered Daughters (1921). He had gained this role through a series of accidents befalling people cast for the lead role. Raoul Walsh was a noted actor who became a director in his own right (having directed noted films such as Regeneration in 1915 and The Thief of Bagdad in 1924), and he was slated to direct and star as the lead. However, when he was driving during production in the desert, a jackrabbit jumped into the windshield of his car, blinding his right eye because of the broken glass. Actor/stuntman Buddy Roosevelt was brought in next, but he withdrew before production could re-start due to a broken leg, so it fell to Baxter to portray the charismatic lead and stay in one piece (along with do a bit of singing), resulting in an Academy Award. In that sense, he does okay, playing with tinges of charisma in a role that seems a bit dated nowadays (imagine putting on a mustache and trying to pull off an accent when you're from Ohio). At least he sings okay, in the same way that I really don't go watching too many singing cowboys to really compare it to. Lowe isn't too much better, but at least his brashness is meant to come out as opposed to seeming awkward with a microphone strategically placed to get the sound out fine like others. Burgess maintains the standard of the mediocre love triangle going with no bumps, although it really isn't much of an interesting triangle with chemistry to keep following for 95 minutes. These are chumps we are dealing with here, but at least it knows to pair it down with a decent ending (as opposed to just a shoot-out) involving the old switching-your-clothes-and-letters trick. The locations certainly seem lovely, even if they don't exactly match the title, with shots being done in Utah and California (notably in parks, missions, and the Mojave Desert) that look fairly nice. Honestly, the film isn't terrible, but it seems a bit tedious when it comes to execution, where one could note better Westerns that came before it that didn't have sound (such as 3 Bad Men, for example) and then note the ones that would come after it for how they dealt with both sound and story. The 1920s had plenty of interesting winners for film, but this one falls right in the middle - not quite forgettable, but not quite remarkable either.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Wind (1928).

Review #1327: The Wind.

Cast: 
Lillian Gish (Letty Mason), Lars Hanson (Lige Hightower), Montagu Love (Wirt Roddy), Dorothy Cumming (Cora), Edward Earle (Beverly), and William Orlamond (Sourdough) Directed by Victor Sjöström.

Review: 
For the year of 1928, change was imminent for film. Lights of New York, the first all-talking full length feature was released in July of that year (released through Warner Bros with the Vitaphone system, improving from their previous efforts). Sprinkled within the top grossing film list were mixes of silent and sound (or at least part-sound) films, such as The Singing Fool (the follow-up part-talkie musical by Warner Bros with Al Jolson) or The Circus (one of numerous Charlie Chaplin films that highlighted the decade) and so forth. The actors of yesteryear would either transition into the burgeoning era of voice or would find themselves doing other avenues of work besides film. Lillian Gish was a key pioneer as an actress for the silent era, who had transitioned from stage acting in the early 20th century to appearing films by 1912, with her highlights primarily being her work from D. W. Griffith, which I've noted before with Way Down East (1920). The rise of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in 1924 led to Gish signing and starring in films with them, with this being the last of the three made with the studio. This was the last of the three films she made for MGM (along with her last silent role), which was not a huge success upon release, having been delayed a year before release. This was the penultimate American film directed by Victor Sjöström, who was noted for work in his native country of Sweden in the decade with films such as The Phantom Carriage (1921) before moving on to sign with Louis B. Mayer to direct in 1924 with Name the Man, and he and Gish had collaborated on The Scarlet Letter two years earlier. Gish went back to theater acting in the following decade, although she would appear in films from time to time until her death at 99 in 1993, while Sjöström directed four more films (his last being in 1937) and returned to acting in the theater and in film, with his last performance before his death in 1960 being Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries (1957).

This film was an adaptation of the 1925 novel of the same name by Dorothy Scarborough, which depicted a lonely small town Texan life in the 1880s, ending with the main character being driven mad by the corpse of the man she killed (after being raped) being uncovered by the wind that leads her to wander into a windstorm. The ending for the film was notably different from the book in that it was a happy one - although it has been said that it was imposed onto the film over a filmed "sad" ending, this does not seem the case. Gish and Sjöström were not fans of doing this ending, but the sensibilities of a public wanting something happy to close their viewing experience in the 1920s wins out, I suppose. It doesn't harm the film as a complete whole, mostly because it is compels attention for 78 minutes without hesitation, a drama of suffering in the elements that resonates without needless extravagance or maudlin sentiment. The film was primarily made in the Mojave Desert (with over 90 degree temperatures), with eight airplanes being used to help simulate wind (no points for wondering how bad conditions must've been for crew having to deal with all that air and sand). Gish is at her finest form here, displaying fragility and depth with a steely soul that urges to persist on and confront her fate like poetry with grace, whether when having to handle the harsh conditions of a small windy town (which can seem quite literal at times) or some of the people that come from it. Hanson (a Swedish actor who had his career turn to Hollywood with a few successes) does fine with Gish, having a reasonable screen presence when needed. The rest of the cast do well with their parts when needed, whether villainous with Love or comedy relief with Orlamond. The film is an engaging one, wracked with chills that make for quite a moody piece to view for the curious at heart. It is one with plenty of entertainment through its direction, acting, and effects that make it a welcome gem for the silent era and film viewers.

Next Time: 1928 strikes again with In Old Arizona.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Jazz Singer.

Review #1326: The Jazz Singer.

Cast: 
Al Jolson (Jakie Rabinowitz / Jack Robin), Warner Oland (Cantor Rabinowitz), Eugenie Besserer (Sara Rabinowitz), May McAvoy (Mary Dale), Otto Lederer (Moisha Yudelson), Richard Tucker (Harry Lee), and Yossele Rosenblatt (Himself) Directed by Alan Crosland.

Review: 
Some films are just born to endure forever. When it comes to the transition from silent to sound in Hollywood's golden age, this film is often marked as the dawn of a new era and of a new genre - the musical. This was the first feature-length film where you could hear someone talk alongside music in the background. The film was adapted from the play of the same name by Samson Raphaelson (which he had adapted from his short story "The Day of Atonement" based on Jolson's real life) from Alfred A. Cohn as a Warner Bros. production through the Vitaphone sound-on-disc system. One thing I should make clear is that this is not the first time anyone heard any kind of sound in a film before. Several short films had dialogue present before 1927, and the studio had utilized the Vitaphone system for a synchronized musical score and sound effects with Don Juan (1926). D. W. Griffith's Dream Street (1921) had a single singing sequence alongside crowd noises with its Photokinema sound-on-disc system, including an introduction sequence of the director speaking to the audience, although not many theaters showed this due to not having the system installed. Sound-on-disc was the uses of phonograph (or an other disc) to record or play back sound that synced with a motion picture through a interlock with the movie projector. It wasn't as if sound film was a new idea that Warner Bros. did alone - the Fox Film Corporation had bought their own system in Fox Movietone, utilizing it first with Sunrise (1927) that included music and sound effects, which they used for motion pictures until 1931 and their newsreel service until 1939.

In the end, sound-on-film would become the standard for talking pictures by the time the 1930s were over, when studios didn't need to produce sound and silent versions of films anymore. Warner Brothers had started in 1923 from the creation of four brothers: Harry, Albert, Sam, and Jack Warner, with the first three having emigrated as young kids from Poland to Canada. They had started their careers involved with film through the movie theater business, having a movie projector that they could use to show film, which led them to their first theater in 1903 with the Cascade. They soon grew onto distribution and production by the time they formally incorporated their company in 1923. When it comes to the moment one needs to hear a voice, the film certainly does not disappoint, doing so seventeen minutes in with the famous line of "Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain't heard nothin' yet". This of course is preceded by a few songs and caption cards, since the film is mostly a silent production, with just two minutes of synchronized talking. Jolson certainly seems in his element when it comes to singing, for which he has six songs. Jolson wasn't once dubbed "The World's Greatest Entertainer" for nothing. Today the film may seem a bit over-sentimental, but it certainly played well to a crowd that made Jolson the right man at the right time to give sound film a push forward with his voice. Jolson's performances in blackface makeup are considered dated and viewed as implicit racism now, but it should be noted that Jolson himself fought against discrimination for African Americans when it came to Broadway productions. He has a complex legacy, but he should still be celebrated for the things that he did that aren't dated to time. The other actors do just fine, including Besserer when it comes to her key scene: a dialogue with her on-screen son, brief yet necessary to everything that followed in the next decade. The film as a whole is okay, holding together on the strength of Jolson's charisma with songs more than its family drama, but one can still find appreciation for what goes on screen without becoming bored in its 89 minute run-time (not including the seven minutes of overture and exit music that open and close the film, respectively) for too long. It is a film that holds to the traditions of the past in several ways that also looks to the future, with this being a key step in the evolution for filmmaking. It won an Honorary Academy Award for its studio and production chief Darryl F. Zanuck (who would become a prominent studio figure in his own right in the following decades), "for producing The Jazz Singer, the pioneer outstanding talking picture, which has revolutionized the industry". The film has been remade three times, having been done in 1952 (with Danny Thomas), 1959 (a TV adaptation with Jerry Lewis), and 1980 (with Neil Diamond). In any case, this is a fairly decent film that endures for its historical value alongside an alright foundation of actors and songs that helped in starting the tide for sound and songs for film.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Underworld (1927).

Review #1325: Underworld.

Cast: 
Clive Brook ("Rolls Royce" Wensel), George Bancroft ("Bull" Weed), Evelyn Brent ("Feathers" McCoy), Fred Kohler ("Buck" Mulligan), Helen Lynch (Meg), Larry Semon ("Slippy" Lewis), and Jerry Mandy (Paloma) Directed by Josef von Sternberg.

Review: 
"Shadow is mystery and light is clarity. Shadow conceals--light reveals. To know what to reveal and what to conceal and in what degrees to do this is all there is to art."

Sometimes you just need a crime film to wind you up for entertainment. This was the film that helped to serve as a template for gangster films to develop that would come along in the next decade, while also helping to deliver its director and writer to further projects over the next several years. It should only make sense to cover a film from Josef von Sternberg, who forged a career in the latter parts of the silent era with his directorial efforts that were characterized by his expressive camera work. He had gotten his start in film in 1919, working with silent directors such as Roy William Neill and Emile Chautard, with his first film credit being for The Mystery of the Yellow Room as assistant director. He had his debut as director in 1925 with The Salvation Hunters, which he also wrote and co-produced. It subsquently recieved a private viewing at the home of Charlie Chaplin, which led to being tasked to direct a film starring Edna Purviance named A Woman of the Sea (1926). A preview screening did not fare well with Chaplin, who decided to not release the film, which later had its negatives burned seven years later in order to note it as a loss for tax reasons, although production stills survive. He had signed by Metro Goldwyn Meyer, but he left the studio after troubles on both The Exquisite Sinner (soon re-shot by Phil Rosen) and The Masked Bride over his vision. He was hired in 1927 by Paramount Pictures "technical advisor for lighting and photography". He was tasked to reshoot scenes and recut footage for Frank Lloyd's Children of Divorce (1927) when executives determined the film was not releasable in its current state. The success of his revision led to him being tapped to direct this film.

One can see various gangster tropes fairly quickly into the film, namely with its maverick criminal lead, a messy love triangle, memorable nicknames, and of course a shootout for the climax (really half of these could be culled for a Western). It all ends up to make a breezy 80 minute experience. Style is a thing that can fit for any decade, and this is one is certainly bold enough to keep up with such demands from its director. The cast do well with the material, such as Brook, who

certainly has the eyes to sell a down-and-out drunk without needing to swagger in hysterics. Bancroft certainly seems bold enough to play an eccentric heavy, devoted to his work, loyalty, and women that provokes attention whenever on screen. Brent plays out the main triangle fairly carefully. The rest of the cast fill out quite well, and the film is relatively engaging without complicating itself in too much detail. It captivates the curiosity in ways that would play itself out further for future films when it came to a focus on criminals and what made them tick, for which von Sternberg does with bold confidence.

The writing for the film was done by journalist and playwright Ben Hecht, who earned an Academy Award for Best Original Story (awarded until 1957) at the very first Academy Award ceremony in 1929 (the award window would not be tightened up to honor just the preceding year until the 1935 ceremony). Hecht became one of Hollywood's go-to people for screenplays, while von Sternberg found success with various studios before his last film in Jet Pilot (1957). He had his conflicts with studio executives over the years when it came to trying to compromise his artistic vision, but he managed to pull off a noted career with the style that came through on screen, with this film being a key piece of his legacy of shining entertainment.

Next Time: The Jazz Singer.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

3 Bad Men.

Review #1324: 3 Bad Men.

Cast: 
George O'Brien (Dan O'Malley), Olive Borden (Lee Carlton), Lou Tellegen (Sheriff Layne Hunter), Tom Santschi ("Bull" Stanley), J. Farrell MacDonald (Mike Costigan), Frank Campeau ("Spade" Allen), Priscilla Bonner (Millie Stanley), Otis Harlan (Editor Zach Little), Phyllis Haver (Lily), Georgie Harris (Joe Minsk), Alec B. Francis (Rev. Calvin Benson), and Jay Hunt (Nat Lucas) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah)

Review: 
When it comes to making a classic Western, John Ford as director certainly comes to mind. Ford had a lengthy career that spanned nearly 50 years from his first in The Tornado (1917) to his last with 7 Women (1966). He could direct any sort of genre, whether a Western, drama, war documentary, romance or some sort of drama. In any case, it seems appropriate to pick a film like this from Ford, seeing as a great deal of his silent films are now lost, alongside the fact that it was also his last Western until another classic thirteen years later with Stagecoach. This also ties in to the film's main star in O'Brien, who starred in ten films for Ford (such as The Iron Horse (1924), Ford's first epic) while becoming a popular star for this decade in his own right. It is nice to see a Western that likes to try and play with other genres and succeeds in doing so, having highlights of comedy and romance that gel pretty well with a solid cast. It is a pretty riveting film that comes from Fox Film Corporation (who you might recognize from their subsequent merger with 20th Century Studios in 1935), juggling its plot and numerous characters with careful ambition, where its episodic nature plays out nicely for 92 minutes without overstaying its welcome. It is a film "suggested" by Herman Whitaker's 1916 novel Over the Border, with the scenario and adaptation being done by John Stone while Ralph Spence and Malcolm Stuart Boylan did the titles. There are quite a few Western tropes to spot here, such as bad guys gone good, a last stand for prominent characters, some sort of historical element (in this case, a land rush in the Dakotas), and so on. But it never seems like a cliche waiting to be made fun of because of how interesting Ford can make the landscape seem. Stock characters can still make for great entertainment if one has the right sense of direction to let the actors deliver some effort to them, and Ford does that well. O'Brien and Borden prove to be pretty watchable, having decent chemistry together, compelling to watch when faced with each other or when with the rascally "bad men". Tellegen proves to be a capably ruthless adversary, whose fierce eyes and disposition gel pretty well when needed for a showdown or just being rude to someone who wants to marry him. The highlight proves to be the outlaw group, headlined by a soulful Santschi, who carries this group to redemption with charm and tenderness. MacDonald and Campeau are also pretty good in giving some chuckles (as set up by the title cards). The rest of the cast prove just fine, particularly when it comes to a good ol' bar fight or the land rush. It is a curiosity worth checking out, where one can see a game cast work with equally sturdy foundations for a fun adventure along with seeing an early example of a memorable film by John Ford when it came to delivering capable entertainment that served him well over the course of the next few decades with sound and Westerns.

Next Time: Tribute to the Decades approaches a year of awards and sound first with Underworld.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Adventures of Prince Achmed.

Review #1323: The Adventures of Prince Achmed.

Cast: 
Directed by Lotte Reiniger and Carl Koch.

Review: 
The Adventures of Prince Achmed (known as Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed in its native country of Germany) is a magnificent achievement. It endures as the oldest surviving feature animated film in existence, surviving where two prior Argentian features (El Apóstol and Sin dejar rastros) from Quirino Cristiani had not. This survived despite the fact the original nitrate print (with color) had been lost. The film was restored by German and British archivists through the Desmet Method to restore the film and its colors from a black-and-white print. The previous years of the 20th century saw an evolution in terms of what animation could do to begin with, starting from 1906 with Humorous Phases of Funny Faces, a three minute film that showed hand-drawn scenes on a chalkboard done by J. Stuart Blackton. In any case, it is still remarkable to make a film like this, done with silhouette marionette being photographed movement by movement, with Reiniger describing them as being "cut out of black cardboard and thin lead, every limb being cut separately and joined with wire hinges." The backgrounds were also cut out with scissors from transparent paper. This film was in production for three years, with roughly 96,000 frame-by frame stills being utilized in the film. One gets the feeling of seeing shadow puppets when first viewing the film, but do not forget that this she is doing all of this one frame at a time, with no live-action manipulating. For a film that is over nine decades old, that is quite the achievement. The film is based of elements from One Thousand and One Nights, combining "Aladdin" and "The Story of Prince Ahmed and the Fairy Perī-Bānū". There were numerous avant-garde animators that helped work on the film, such as Walter Ruttmann (who also directed avant-garde fare such as Berlin: Symphony of a Metropolis), Berthold Bartosch (who went on to do work such as The Idea), and Carl Koch (Reiniger's husband and occasional assistant to Jean Renoir). Each helped with various sequences, such as help with ocean waves and the skies with cutouts from sand and soap, while wax was being used to convey the flying horse and various magic transformations. One is in awe fairly quickly from the craftsmanship displayed in each act, but I think the greatest highlight is the water sequence. In the film, the Princess and the maidens fly with feathered garmets to a stream for a bath. The movements made in that part are already quite nice, but it is the ripples and shimmer of the water surface that seal the deal, since it looks quite realistic with detail. The characters themselves all look fairly distinct, where one can figure out what is going on without needing more detail or even voices for a film that displays usually two colors: the background color and black for the silhouettes. You need films like this to remind oneself of what it means to tell a story in one's own vision, whether with or without actors or even a considerable budget. One is amazed at what one can tell in 65 minutes from cut-outs and occasional title cards (whether in German or another language), such as flying horses, or wizard battles, which proves to be an excellent climax of images (along with a modern recreation of the music) that inspires curiosity just as much as the other images do. On the whole, this is an easy film to recommend, one with plenty of imagination and wonder that rewards its viewer with diverting entertainment that serves its decade with pleasure and amazement.

Next Review - Another film from 1926, with 3 Bad Men.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Battleship Potemkin.

Review #1322: Battleship Potemkin.

Cast: 
Aleksandr Antonov (Grigory Vakulinchuk), Vladimir Barsky (Commander Golikov), Grigori Aleksandrov (Chief Officer Giliarovsky), I. Bobrov (Young sailor flogged while sleeping), Mikhail Gomorov (Militant sailor), Aleksandr Levshin (Petty Officer), N. Poltavseva (Woman with pince-nez), Lyrkean Makeon (The Masked Man), and Konstantin Feldman (Student agitator) Directed by Sergei Eisenstein.

Review: 
Yes, it only figures to pick a film as notably subversive as this one for 1925 in Tribute to the Decades. Despite any biases I may display towards communism (and countries that practiced it then and now, which applies especially to China), I did not let that get in the way of saying that this is a good film. I may indulge a line or two occasionally about my gripes with left/right-wing politics trying to seep their way into films where it does not belong (such as with the recent Academy Award for Best Picture nominees), but it generally should not serve as some sort of key reason I don't like a film. Enjoy the review.

The middle of the decade continued the run of plenty of notable classic films across cinema. Ben-Hur became the biggest hit of the year (alongside being the most expensive silent film ever made). The Gold Rush proved to be the best comedy hit of the year (along with arguably being one of the greatest comedies ever). Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack (who went on to co-direct classics such as King Kong) collaborated for the first time with Grass (1925), which followed a tribe in Persia. But it isn't hard to deny the power of a certain Soviet feature when it comes to its place among world cinema. What can one really say about a revolutionary film like this? It is the kind of film that fits the film school circuit as an example of what one can do with editing and montage, where the focus is not so much an individual but the collective as a whole, which one would expect from a Soviet production meant to inspire the masses with its own form of propaganda, which led to bans in numerous countries (including the Soviet Union itself). Eisenstein had directed his first film eight months earlier with Strike, which dealt with a factory strike in 1903 that used animals as metaphors for the condition of numerous individuals. It was made to commemorate twenty years since the mutiny of the battleship Potemkin, which had already been dramatized in 1906 named La révolution en Russie, which ran for four minutes. The film is not meant to be a complete re-telling of the story of the mutiny, as one could expect from a dramatization. If that were true, one would have to show scenes of the Russian fleet being unable to capture the ship around the Black Sea (to the point where Emperor Nicolas II called the attempts "difficult and shameful story") before Romania gave the sailors asylum, with the ship itself left nearly sunk with the Romanian flag on before it was renamed the Panteleimon before being turned into scrap metal prior to production. If you want to be even more pedantic, the famous Odessa massacre on the steps sequence never happened in real life either, instead being used for dramatic effect, although it should be noted that it was inspired by a massacre that occurred five months before the mutiny and demonstrators. The point of the film was to inspire passion and thought with its montage, where the focus is on the images and not so much on the mostly amateur actors (although Aleksandrov would become noted for his later directorial work). One will likely find themselves wrapped up in the drama of the mutineers and at least pick up the urge to research more about it (along with other various revolving topics, but that's another story). It definitely doesn't get in the way of viewing the Odessa sequence, which is easily the highlight that can be dissected on the most on its rhythm of delivering such emotional intensity without missing a beat, with its influence being seen quite clearly in other films to follow (such as The Untouchables). There are plenty of images one could highlight that stand out (such as the sequence involving the raising of a red flag to thunderous music), but the shot of the baby carriage rolling down the steps is the most obvious one to go with when talking about the punch the film can pull. There are plenty of great films out there that stand out for their entertainment value or their innovation in style and form, and this is one that stands for the latter category with pride, where it isn't surprising that numerous publications found it one of the greatest films ever made for several decades. For the curious at heart when it comes to wanting to view films beyond American ones, this would likely prove a fine one to consider (particularly since it is readily available to find on the Internet), alongside the curiosity for silent films for the decade.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Sea Hawk (1924).

Review #1321: The Sea Hawk (1924).

Cast: 
Milton Sills (Sir Oliver Tressilian), Enid Bennett (Lady Rosamund Godolphin), Lloyd Hughes (Lionel Tressilian), Wallace Beery (Capt. Jasper Leigh), Marc McDermott (Sir John Killigrew), Wallace MacDonald (Peter Godolphin), Bert Woodruff (Nick), Claire Du Brey (Siren), Lionel Belmore (Justice Anthony Baine), Cristina Montt (The Infanta of Spain), Albert Prisco (Yusuf-Ben-Moktar), and Frank Currier (Asad-ed-Din) Directed by Frank Lloyd (#099 - Mutiny on the Bounty)

Review: 
It only figures one needs to build their own ships to really sell their adventure films. At least that is what director Frank Lloyd felt was the best way to approach his film when it came to ship action. At the cost of around $200,000, wooden exteriors were outfitted to existing craft by designer Fred Gabourie (whose best work was props for Buster Keaton silent films), which was soon utilized for scenes on the coast of Catalina Island in California. The footage of the ships in battle were re-used in 1940 for The Sea Hawk (a Warner Bros production with Errol Flynn that had its own distinctive plot as opposed to being a remake). What can one expect from a silent spectacle like this? Well, quite a bit, given that it is an adventure film with pirates, disloyal brothers, sea-slaves, and other various elements, all of which make for an adequate time at 123 minutes, where spectacle will sail the seas far more prominently than its attempts at romance, which in of itself is okay. It takes quite a bit of build-up before it finds itself on a ship, but it all proves to be worth it, mostly because it never seems too stagey or overblown to detriment. When it comes to headliners, Sills is a fair pick for such a rugged role. He had started his career in acting on a whim in 1906, inspired by a visit to the University of Chicago by stage actor Donald Robertson (who had his own stage company) while he was working as a professor (Sills had graduated from the university previously, studying psychology and philosophy on scholarship). In the span of eighteen years leading up to this film, he had found himself on Broadway and subsequent transition to film in 1914 with The Pit. It was this film that helped him find major status, although he would die of a heart attack at the age of 48 in 1930. In this respect, he does pretty well with displaying a rough-and-tumble nature without having to put all the emotion in silly gestures. Bennett walks through her role just as well, where one needs to balance a bit of passion and scorn without so much time on screen, with chemistry between her and Sills feeling pretty assured. Hughes plays off panic fine, although he is overshadowed not only by Sills and Bennett but also by Beery. One cannot resist a colorful rascal of a pirate when done right, and Beery does this in spades, as one would expect from the noted character actor (who would find further success in the following decade). The rest of the actors do just fine, where one needs to just make sure nothing incredibly hammy lurks in the way of the main stars. On the whole, it isn't too surprising to see why this was the audience favorite for 1924, as it is an interesting spectacle piece filled with ambition and useful components (notice in one scene the hand-coloring for the torches in a night scene) that make for a worthy curiosity piece to hold up over the decades. One can't really go wrong with adventure and a small bit of romance to go along with a viewing.

Next time: Battleship Potemkin (1925).

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Covered Wagon.

Review #1320: The Covered Wagon.

Cast: 
J. Warren Kerrigan (Will Banion), Lois Wilson (Molly Wingate), Alan Hale (Sam Woodhull), Ernest Torrence (William Jackson), Tully Marshall (Jim Bridger), Ethel Wales (Mrs. Wingate), Charles Ogle (Jesse Wingate), Guy Oliver (Kit Carson), and Johnny Fox (Jed Wingate) Directed by James Cruze (#1263 - The Roaring Road)

Review: 
What is it about the Western that inspires such curiosity? What inspired so many directors and studios to make their own tales (or adapt works) about cowboys, gunslingers, and other various subjects that dominated the film landscape for over half of the 20th century, doing so from the very get go with the first one shot in the United States (and second overall) in The Great Train Robbery (1903), which captivated audiences with its action in such quick time at 12 minutes. The evolution of film production in the two decades that followed meant that at some point one would strive to make a big budget Western epic to hang their cowboy hat on, at least until someone made one that looked better. The honor of being known as the first big-budget Western epic (made for roughly over $700,000 from Paramount Pictures) falls to this feature, which is adapted from the novel of the same name by Emerson Hough. Expense was not spared when it came to research to get costumes and locations scoped out, particularly when it came to finding a herd of wild bison (alongside other animals like oxen and horses) to roam the plains, complete with authentic wagons. If that sounds daunting enough, try being an actor having to spend months in the desert of Utah, dealing with various weather elements alongside being fairly distant from railroads, with one sequence involving wagons fording a torrent being a risky one to film in part because they had to actually swim for it alongside the accompanying horses and oxen. Simply put, one can trace Western epics and the level of craftsmanship one must take in executing ambition from costumes to characters to this film, which manages to hold itself fairly well without becoming too much a thing of the past.

It is an honest spectacle, welcome of curiosity for those who seek out fair pleasures. It has exactly the kind of things you would expect from a Western, with a clear hero, romantic lead and heavy to follow, and one can take a guess as to how these pioneers will do in their journey from Kansas to Oregon for 98 minutes - as long as one does not find themselves checking their watch from time to time or peeking at what comes next, you should do fine. It is the journey that counts when it comes to films, and how one enjoys the ride or trip with these actors and views that counts most, and this one does fine with that in mind - you could probably see this and at have some sort of interest in wondering about the plight of the pioneer, whether that means trouble with just getting to where they need to go or in-fights and so on. The highlight proves to be Torrence and Marshall, giving a bit of amusement as the comic relief, while Kerrigan and Wilson prove adequate if not too memorable people to look at through the lens of a routine romantic Western. Regardless, it proved an audience hit, making roughly seven million dollars, exceeding films now regarded as classics for that year such as The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Safety Last!, which now can all be found in the public domain for one to eye with curiosity. This film may not stand too highly with some of the Westerns that would come to pass over the next decade and beyond, but it still holds ground as a resilient charmer when it comes to entertainment, and that surely will prove enough for those who want to seek it most.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Robin Hood (1922).

Review #1319: Robin Hood.

Cast: 
Douglas Fairbanks (Earl of Huntingdon/Robin Hood), Wallace Beery (King Richard the Lion-Hearted), Sam De Grasse (Prince John), Enid Bennett (Lady Marian Fitzwalter), Paul Dickey (Sir Guy of Gisbourne), William Lowery (The High Sheriff of Nottingham), Willard Louis (Friar Tuck), Alan Hale (The Squire/Little John), Bud Geary (Will Scarlet), Lloyd Talman (Alan-a-Dale), and Billie Bennett (Servant to Lady Marian) Directed by Allan Dwan.

Review: 
Never let it be said that adventure films were content with being quiet affairs. When it comes to large-scale adventure films, this is a good case to highlight (copyrighted as Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood, I kid you not), with this one having a large castle set and village (all constructed at Pickford-Fairbanks Studio), with some designs done by architect Lloyd Wright (who went on to use its leftovers to design shells for the Hollywood Bowl). The budget has been reported to be around $900,000, which went into making such lavish sets, costumes, and even extras (with large moments reportedly having as many as a thousand present). The film is also noted for being shown as the first Hollywood premiere, doing so at Egyptian Theater in Hollywood (who you might recognize as one of the theaters developed by Sid Grauman). It wasn't the first film to feature the legend of Robin Hood on screen - there had been six productions involving the character, with the first being in 1908. Two of them were notable, with the 1912 version having big costumes and superimposition of animals to demonstrate their good/evil qualities, while Ivanhoe (1913) adapted the 1819 historical novel of the same name by Sir Walter Scott with the character present. Fairbanks was already a well paid and highly regarded star at the time of this film's release, and he helped formed United Artists alongside Mary Pickford, D. W. Griffith, and Charlie Chaplin in 1919 in order to help with artistic control and distributorships. The Mark of Zorro (1920) helped in creating a superstar image for its lead actor, and swashbuckling films owe a great deal to Fairbanks and the efforts he took in sparing no expense when it came to entertaining films, which continued with this feature that solidified the legend of Robin Hood in the eyes of the viewer alongside with solidifying the legend of Fairbanks as a whole.

It is a 127 minute grand spectacle that lands most of its merry advances, particularly when it comes to its action sequences (no photo trickery needed), which are fun to view when seeing how one can do such leaps and smile all the way through. It takes a bit of time to really get going, but it proves to be a useful reward that holds up to the edges of time fairly well after all these decades. Fairbanks (who had started acting just before the turn of the century and would turn turn 40 the following year after release) is clearly enjoying himself here, knowing where to go best, whether when needing to be coy or on the mark with someone else on screen. Beery makes for a fair supporting component to Fairbanks, while De Grasse makes for an adequate villain to encompass the film. Bennett and Dickey each do their own part to carry things respectively, as does the rest of the Merry Men. Two actors would later reprise their roles. Berry returned to his role the following year in Richard the Lion-Hearted, which was based on Scott's novel The Talisman, while Hale would reprise his supporting role twice - The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and Rogues of Sherwood Forest (1950). It may not be the greatest Fairbanks adventure film (he personally felt The Thief of Bagdad (1924) was his best), but it certainly ranks up there when it comes to fun memorable times with interesting heroes, that much is for sure. It is an easy film to find in the public domain (remember, the new year means that works from 1923 are now available), and it is easy to recommend finding the best looking print one can find, where one can see different hues of color (as opposed to just monochrome) and have adventure play out for wonderful curiosity.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Sheik (1921).

Review #1318: The Sheik.

Cast: 
Rudolph Valentino (Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan), Agnes Ayres (Lady Diana Mayo), Ruth Miller (Zilah), George Waggner (Yousaef), Frank Butler (Sir Aubrey Mayo), Charles Brinley (Mustapha Ali), Lucien Littlefield (Gaston), Adolphe Menjou (Raoul de Saint Hubert), and Walter Long (Omair) Directed by George Melford.

Review: 
It is interesting to see where a career can go when it comes to a person's legacy. What does one think when they see the name of Rudolph Valentino? They see a matinee idol, a person who became a romantic symbol for Hollywood whose star rose like a comet and vanished just as quickly, with a leading career that lasted less than a decade. He had gotten his start in films as an extra after emigrating to the United States from Italy in 1913, with his debut allegedly being in a lost film named My Official Wife (1914). His major break was the film The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), which occurred after June Mathis had discovered him during one of his extra appearances. In any case, the film proved to be a major success, making him into a star overnight. He appeared in four further films in that same year, but this is the one that would help seal his reputation and image as a "Latin lover" for the rest of his brief career. This was an adaptation of the 1919 romance novel of the same name by Edith Maude Hull and was adapted for the screen by Monte M. Katterjohn. It should be noted that James Kirkwood, Sr was the original choice for the title role before he declined due to salary concerns. Valentino had jumped studios to do this film (done at Paramount), feeling less than satisfied with Metro Pictures (who you may recognize from their 1924 merger with Goldwyn Pictures and Louis B. Mayer Pictures to make Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer).

In any case, one wonders how this desert romance holds up when looked at through the lens of a near century since its release. The immediate thought that went through my head before viewing it was "Stockholm syndrome" (involving someone developing a psychological alliance with captors during captivity). If one views it as a period piece, perhaps one can find a bit of surreal enjoyment, particularly for a film that even uses one of its final title-cards to say that its title character is actually European (English/Spanish, actually, but whose counting?). Look, the film is a bit weird. However, it cannot be denied that there is still a bit of fiery staying power for this film, having a hypnotically passionate Valentino that rises above being billed second to Ayres (whose career also started with small roles in 1914) to make something that keeps the eyeballs focused on something that teeters on corniness while trying to fit into escapism. Ayres does fine, although one might think the romantic angle was more of a tease than anything (the novel was far more controversial with its duo involving rape and plenty of stereotypes, so imagine the studio trying to be careful with the censor boards). The others are okay, in the same way that they certainly look like they want to be there making gestures and seem useful to something that seems mildly ready to inspire passion for 80 minutes. The film is fairly diverting enough to overcome its rickety foundations, where one can look at its main stars without it seeming completely off-putting or ridiculous. There were two more films involving the Sheik, with The Son of the Sheik (1926) starring both Valentino (in a double role that proved to be his last before his death that same year) and Ayres. A comedic role reversal named She's a Sheik with Bebe Daniels was released the following year. This is one of those unlikely films that finds a place in movie history. One wonders how it would've endured if was made in any other time other than the early 1920s, such as if it was made seven years earlier or later, but there is something mystical about it attracts attention even after nearly a century. Valentino may have lived as an idol for only five years, but his mark still comes through today as someone to look at on the screen.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Way Down East.

Review #1317: Way Down East.

Cast: 
Lillian Gish (Anna Moore), Richard Barthelmess (David Bartlett), Lowell Sherman (Lennox Sanderson), Burr McIntosh (Squire Bartlett), Kate Bruce (Mother Bartlett), Mary Hay (Kate, Squire's niece), Creighton Hale (The professor), Emily Fitzroy (Maria Poole, landlady), Porter Strong (Seth Holcomb), Edgar Nelson (Hi Holler), and Mrs. Morgan Belmont (Diana Tremont) Directed by D. W. Griffith (#415 - America and #695 - Broken Blossoms)

Review: 
Welcome to Movie Night: Tribute to the Decades. While Movie Night always tries to review films from every sort of decade, inevitably the show is a bit slow to cover certain decades in more depth (the 1930s for example have just 45 reviews, with the last review being from December 2017). Given that Movie Night is celebrating ten years in 2020, why not do theme kind of year? As such, each month will have at least four reviews that cover a certain decade, with this month being for the 1920s (the third least-covered decade with 65). The idea is to pick films that are either repersentative of the decade or something worthwhile in some sort of way. Certain months will be preceded by announcements over what is to be covered, but I do hope that you folks enjoy.

The 1920s were a blossoming time for film, particularly when it came to making features. Hollywood was now the center of where films would be made, fit for a decade wracked with extravagance and glamour. There had been feature films released in the previous decade that stood out as successes for features, such as Traffic in Souls (1913, one of the earliest kinds of narrative films), Cabiria (1914, an Italian epic silent release), The Birth of a Nation (1915, a controversial landmark from Griffith that proved a huge commercial success), Intolerance (1916, Griffith's further epic with four parallel storylines, and Cleopatra (1917, lost but known for its lavish sets). It cannot be denied, however, that the 1920s would be the decade that feature films came into further prominence (while the two-reeler kind of films lingered before shrinking further in later decades). While the decade found itself with struggle of evolving from silent to sound, most of the prominent films of this decade would come from silents like the one seen here. It is an adaptation of the 1898 play of the same name by Charlotte Blair Parker. The play proved an eventual hit, with Phoebe Davies (wife of the person who revived the show after initial release, which she starred in) going on to play the lead role for over 4,000 performances. It had been adapted twice before for film, and a further adaptation followed in 1935 that featured Henry Fonda. Anyone familiar with Griffith films will appreciate seeing Gish and Barthelmess together again, particularly for a film that runs at 145 minutes (not surprising given Griffith's collection of work that I mentioned and what would come later, such as the 150-minute Orphans of the Storm, also featuring Gish). It definitely has the feeling of a play at times, although Griffith is certainly talented enough to make this romantic drama engaging enough that it makes the experience worth viewing through the lens of a century since its release.

Gish carries the film as well as she does because of the expressions she can pull when the moment is needed. The concept of an innocent lured into seedy trappings is a familiar one to draw upon, and Gish lives up to someone that we can relate to, one that we can care about whenever dealing with a "marriage" proposal or when with her newborn without a name. Barthelmess proves just as capable, a soulful kind of presence that led to him having a following among women for the decade. Sherman pulls the right kind of smarminess through the eyes that makes for a worthy counterpart for the feature. The rest of the cast do their part just fine, whether if they are a family patriarch or bumbling comedy relief. The film is noted for its climatic sequence with ice floes down a river towards a waterfall as a snowstorm raged on. The ice sequence was filmed in White River Junction, Vermont, with a short waterfall being used. Ice needed to be sawed or dynamited before filming, with the crew making a small fire near the camera to keep the oil from freezing. The leads had to perform their own stunts, with Gish having her hair and hand trail in the water at one point (which led to impairment in her right hand for the rest of her life); Griffith had frostbite on one side of his face at one point. It certainly is a spectacular sequence, worthy of being remembered as a hallmark for a film that works out fine in entertainment for the time in holding up with its convictions through a director in his prime in Griffith. It might seem like old-fashioned melodrama, but Griffith managed to elevate it to something that still feels like timeless entertainment that endures to this very day, worthy for the curious at heart for cinema.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Uncut Gems.

Review #1316: Uncut Gems.

Cast:
Adam Sandler (Howard Ratner), Julia Fox (Julia), Idina Menzel (Dinah Ratner), Lakeith Stanfield (Demany), Kevin Garnett (Himself), Eric Bogosian (Arno), Keith Williams Richards (Phil), Judd Hirsch (Gooey), Mike Francesa (Gary), Noa Fisher (Marcel Ratner), Jonathan Aranbayev (Eddie Ratner), Jacob Igielski (Beni Ratner), and Wayne Diamond (Wayne) Directed by Josh Safdie and Benny Safdie.

Review:
What is so alluring about the big risk? What makes us want to take a huge gamble and roll with what could be a huge win - or a huge loss? It probably is the same reason one can persist on with trying to find the next best gem - or in movie terms, one always wants to see if there's an ever better movie out there to view next. Uncut Gems will certainly be one of those films that inspires plenty of interest, where pangs of apprehension and anxiety (if one gets anxiety from films, I guess) the chase of seeing a tremendous lead performance that make up a pretty good time. One needs a good character-driven film like this from time to time, a grimy yet occasionally amusing film that works for a certain kind of thrill and achieves those ends without really seeming to lose sight of delivering on its risks from beginning to end. I must admit, I was initially a bit skeptical about Sandler for the lead role. He has had his moments where he can command the screen for laughs and had done a few films that weren't primarily comedies, such as Punch-Drunk Love (2002) and The Meyerowitz Stories (2017, directed by the Safdies, who had developed the first draft of this film's script in 2009), but it was more the buzz that developed around this film prior to its release that helped seal the deal. When it comes to late December/January releases, sometimes you want to see something a bit different get a release to shine (for which I emphasize wide release, not streaming release) - and this is especially appropriate. Sandler does a tremendous job with this role, a high-wire force with plenty of manic energy - he is the kind of person that could annoy everyone from his family to his customers and still have a chance at getting the big push, where one finds themselves watching him play himself and everyone else out on an ever-expanding board of bets and deals. In short, he may very well earn himself serious consideration for an Academy Award (boy that's a sentence to start a decade off with). With that in mind, the cast around him is just as well-picked to the surroundings, such as Fox and her captivating presence (with this being her screen debut), or Garnett and his magnetic force as himself that works every time without seeming like a overgrown cameo (if none of that sounds surprising, there's also talk-radio host Francesa as a bookie), or others like Stanfield and Bogosian when it comes to how they just interact with Sandler and his antics (namely exasperation). One wonders what the best sequence is to highlight, but I think the one that really sets it is right in the beginning, involving Sandler, fish with a rock inside and a rambling employee. He sees a magnificent black opal (for which we see in colorful detail more than once) and we just the pleasure he gets from having it in his possession, the hypnotic nature of wanting the big win (or rock) no matter the risk - which the film sells for itself quite well for. It shines in most aspects for 135 minutes in part because of the risks in wants to take with its direction, its actors, style and music (Darius Khondji and Daniel Lopatin, respectively), and it all works out the way it has to go to stand tall. Whether one finds themselves enthralled or anxious, this proves to be well-deserved gem to view, that much is for sure.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Eddie Murphy Raw.

Review #1315: Eddie Murphy Raw.

Cast: 
Eddie Murphy (Himself)

Opening sketch: Tatyana Ali (Eddie's sister), Deon Richmond (Little Eddie), Billie Allen (Eddie's aunt), James Brown III (Thanksgiving guest), Edye Byrde (Mrs. Butts), Michelle Davison (Thanksgiving guest), Clebert Ford (Uncle Lester), and Birdie M. Hale (Aunt Rose) Directed by Robert Townsend.

Review: 

Sometimes you really need to start your night off with something to laugh. I would say a stand-up film would be a pretty good example, since this is one of the most successful one released into theaters, released in the zenith of Murphy's career, released the same year as Beverly Hills Cop II (while being the first standup special he did since Delirious in 1983) that was filmed at the Felt Forum in New York City. The film starts off with an opening sketch involving his childhood (written by Murphy and Keenen Ivory Wayans) involving a childhood during Thanksgiving, which sets you right in the mood for a few risky jokes - which goes off mostly without a hitch. It may not be the funniest thing ever put to film, but one will find themselves having a few laughs due to the passion Murphy has in trying to make one laugh without needing to be desperate for it. Sure, some of the jokes seem a bit dated (although it isn't too hard to laugh at the Cosby routine even now), but there is a basic quality to how he delivers it that makes him so interesting to view on the screen. I think the last part of the film, involving a phone call to a (drunk) father is probably the highlight for me, in part because of one having to visually picture a person dressed up in a Twister sheet getting beaten up by bullies with a square board in tow. He has a good range with his voice, whether that involves an impersonation or needing to a bit vulger (with a certain word being used throughout the 90 minute run-time, which was actually a record for film until Goodfellas. The word is fuck) - but it doesn't consume the whole show for its intended audience. It isn't like you are going to show it to your 8-year old, though your 15-year old may come across it and probably find something to say about it (or copy), which speaks to its standing power after over three decades since its release. It's a fair recommendation to make, a neat little gem with plenty to say (curse words and all) for itself that holds just fine now more than ever.

Welcome to Movie Night 2020 - also known as Season X! I promise to have plenty of interesting films to cover (old and new), whether they range from 1920 or 2020, with a bit of a tribute to the decades sprinkled in before the tenth anniversary. Hope to see you all there.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.