| HELL'S HINGES To many - too many - William S. Hart is merely the prototype of the "strong, silent” hero, now outdated and merely quaint. This illusion and falsehood is no doubt projected even further by the fact that Hart's features are almost never shown these days, and later generations know him chiefly by hacked-up and gagged-up extracts a la Flicker Flashbacks.
In the past, this society has tried to restore some of the respect due to Hart, as actor and director, by reviving The Return of Draw Egan and Tumbleweeds. Neither showing was particularly successful, interest in Hart being apparently very slight. We sincerely hope that this showing will tell a different story, for Hell's Hinges is classic of its kind. Together with the quite different The Narrow Trail, it is probably Hart's best picture. And to dismiss it casually as a western would be a mistake, for it more resembles The Atonement of Gösta Berling than it does Riders of the Purple Sage.
Space is too limited to permit the detailed appraisal of Hart's background and career that we would like; instead of attempting to condense it, or to explain Hart's sincere love of the West, we refer you to George Mitchell’s admirable article on Hart in Films in Review. This piece is really the last word on Hart and his films!
Hell’s Hinges has elements quite foreign to the traditional western -- including the systematic seduction of a minister by the town trollop, and the minister's subsequent savagery in burning down his own church. All such elements as these are being carefully deleted from a two-reel television version now being prepared, and we are fortunate indeed to have this complete copy for screening.
Hart has been accused of being too sentimental a director, which at times he undoubtedly was. But it is astounding that his tremendous talent as a director has gone unrecognised for so long. The camera placement here, the simple yet effective symbolism, and the flair for spectacle as in the brilliantly handled mob scenes where all of Inceville goes up in smoke, the real "feel" of the old, dusty, unglamorised West, all should have earned Hart a reputation as one of the great directors. After all, Hell’s Hinges is a 1916 production. At that time Griffith was the giant among directors, with no immediate rivals. But certainly Hart, from his performance here (directorial as well as histrionic) is entitled to rate as one of the leaders among those rivals to Griffith, lower down the scale though they were.
For the most part, Hell's Hinges offers high-powered drama rather than traditional western action. Apart from a single blow, there are no fisticuffs, and only one short riding sequence. Hart reserves his action for the final two reels, and then withdraws all restraints to slam over one of the most powerful and spectacular action sequences that he ever created. Fine camerawork, utilising long panoramic shots, excellent cutting and a sure control over the masses of extras fuse this into an episode of astonishing vigor. Hart, his assistant Cliff Smith, his writer Gardner Sullivan, and cameraman Joe August were one of the sturdiest (and least appreciated) teams of craftsmen the cinema ever produced. Tom Ince certainly deserved none of the credit that he claimed on the Hart films; they were Bill's films all the way. However, Ince does rate a nod of approval for having the foresight to recognise Hart for the artist that he was, and for permitting him to make his films the way he wanted to make them, without outside interference. Although in the face of rapidly spiraling grosses, putting Bill's films in direct competition with those of Griffith and Douglas Fairbanks, also operating under the Triangle banner, Tom's attitude was as shrewd as it was considerate!
Incidentally, an interesting aspect of the plot’s construction is the contrasting of Hart's reformation ("a man wholly evil" as an early subtitle tells us) with the rapid degeneration of the minister. "Moving Picture World" of Feb. 19, 1916, had this to say of the picture: "Brilliant in subtitle, strong in treatment with occasional notes of true pathos, the marks of creative ability and sure craftsmanship are there…the cast is without flaw…[Ince] is at his best when holding close to revelations of the human mind and heart." But while referring to "the genius of direction," the reviewer goes an to criticise Hart: "Good enough actor not to require a perpetual repetition of the Western badman reformed through the sweet and humanizing influence of a pure-minded girl, Hart should try himself out in some other role…[He] fails to win with a large percentage of the modern audience. Hart is a fine type and capable of picturing imperfect man as he really is and long has been, a composite being, "the riddle of the world." (Unquote). Good old Bill took no notice of the Easterners who were trying to tell him how to make his westerns… ten years later, those same criticisms leveled at Tumbleweeds, on which he had again refused to compromise, finally put him out of business. But what a grand old actor and film-maker he had been -- with twelve years of picture-making that will surely some day be acclaimed as they deserve to be!
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