Everson Notes, Huff 12/23/57

THE GARDEN OF EDEN

(United Artists, 1928 8 reels
Produced and directed by LEWIS MILESTONE

Supervised by John Considine; scenario by Hans Kraly from the play adapted by Avery Hopwood and written by Rudolph Bernauer and Rudolph Osterreicher; photographed by John Arnold; art direction by William Cameron Menzies; Assistant Director - Nate Watt; Interior Decoration by Casey Roberts; titles by George Marion jr.

The Cast:

Toni Lebrun ........... CORINNE GRIFFITH

Henri D'Avril ........... LOWELL SHERMAN

Rosa ..................... LOUISE DRESSER

Richard Dupon ........ CHARLES RAY

Madame Bauer ....... MAUDE GEORGE

Colonel Dupont ...... EDWARD MARTINDEL

THE PRIMAL CALL

(American Biograph, 1911) One reel
Directed by D.W. Griffith; photographed by G.W. Bitzer

Starring Claire McDowell and Wilfrid Lucas, with Frank Grandin, Vivien Prescott, Alfred Paget (playing two different bit roles), Florence La Badie (as the maid), Tony O'Sullivan, Christy Miller and others.

Certain sequences of the second Battle of the Sexes excepted (and those due primarily to the spirited playing of Phyllis Haver), comedy was never one of Griffiths strong points. That he himself was aware of this is obvious, since he stuck mainly to drama, melodrama and action material. His instinctive dislike of Douglas Fairbanks in the Triangle days was another tip-off that, cinematically speaking at least, D.W. didn't have too much of a sense of humor. This romantic comedy, in the mould of Taming of the Shrew and It Happened One Night, is thus neither Griffith at his best - nor at his most typical - and should thus be of especial interest to followers of his work. The mood is never too constant, and the construction is a little clumsier than usual -- for example, the hero (Wilfrid Lucas) is not introduced until the film is almost over! Made during Griffith's second trip to the coast (in the winter of 1911), it's quite an elaborate production. All the Biograph players seem to have been put to work in the lush garden party scenes, and the most is made of the principal exterior location - Redondo Beach. Too, Griffith makes use of the schooner he had just finished using in Enoch Arden (which had an almost identical cast) -- but perhaps to prevent his economy from being too obvious, he has the cameras shoot only half of the ship! Presumably Griffith used production values such as these to convince the boys back in New York that he was spending their money wisely -- so they would leave him alone to go off into the hills and shoot the films that really interested him - Fighting Blood and the others which showed far more of the real Griffith than does The Primal Call.

THE SWITCHTOWER	(Broncho, 1915) 1½ reels. Produced by Thomas H. Ince Written by Ince and C. Gardner Sullivan; director not stated.
Starring Walter Edwards as Bill Wharton, and Frank Borzage as his son, Joel.
Not knowing which of the many Ince directors is responsible for this film is, as always, both frustrating and annoying. It is good enough to be the work of one of the best of Ince's crew - Reginald Barker perhaps - but to assume that might be to do an injustice to Richard Stanton or any one of a dozen others. In any events it's a fine little melodrama, distinguished principally by its really fine lighting and photography, adroit choice of angles (particularly in the climactic sequence) and an excellent use of obviously authentic locales - the railroad yards in particular. Its plot is a little naive and tends to stretch coincidence a little too far (at least, for 1915) but this may be also partially due to the fact that one or two scenes are obviously missing from this well-worn print.

- INTERMISSION -

THE GARDEN OF EDEN

Not in any way to be confused with Walter Bibo's nudist epic (playing concurrently with our show!) The Garden of Eden can best be described as a Lubitsch plot peopled by Stroheim characters. Herman Weinberg once categorised it as "a fairy tale for adults", and it's an apt description.

Not an important film, The Garden of Eden is a thoroughly enjoyable one nonetheless, done with real style and bizarre touches that lift its Cinderella comedy machinations well out of the usual rut.

Griffith (who has just returned to the screen in Hugo Haas' Stars in the Backyard) was here at the peak of her popularity, and except perhaps for The Divine Lady (in which she was magnificently photographed by John Seitz) she never looked lovelier. Cameraman John Arnold pulls out all the stops (and puts in all the filters) in giving Miss Griffith the A-1 glamour treatment here, although Corinne has an unfortunate habit of manipulating her upper lip to give the (unintended) impression of a sneer, which undoes some of Arnold's magic. Lowell Sherman, deliciously lecherous as always, is perfect as a late 20's Lennox Sanderson; the middle portions of the film, when he is absent, would have been helped considerably by his leers and grimaces.

Maude George, keeper of the flame for Stroheim, performs a similar function here; as the Madame who offers her "wares" in the form of a restaurant menu, she is well up to form. The only real weakness among the performers in fact - and it is a serious weakness - can be found in the miscasting and mis-playing of Charles Ray. As a dashing playboy, he is not only out of his element, but adds to his discomforture by forever striving to recapture the mannerisms and studied awkwardness of his "country-boy" days. Still good-looking but obviously past his prime, Ray presents a rather pathetic picture. And in one important sequence, he lets the film down very badly. A very promising comedy episode has Charles Ray desperately trying to get a "Yes" to his marriage proposal from a Corinne Griffith who is rapidly feeling the effects of a sleeping potion. The idea is well-written. Directorially, little could be added. Corinne, prostrate on a bed, obviously can contribute little except passive glamour. The success of the scene rests solely on Ray's shoulders, and unfortunately he can't carry it through. Luckily, for the most part, the comedy material is carried successfully by others, and the climax is merry and furious.

With all due respect to Miss Griffith however, perhaps the real star of The Garden of Eden is William Cameron Menzies. His art direction in this film brings back the happy memories of days when movies were movies, and had both magic and glamour. (Not that we are condemning movies without magic, which would be to take a swipe at everything from The Immigrant to The Crowd; but we're all for the exotic and the lush facade in the less serious type of movie which benefits so immeasurably from it. Trouble in Paradise and Shanghai Express are two of the prime examples). The sets glisten and gleam. The costumes dazzle. The camera glides across ballrooms, and lingers lovingly on a closeup of a beautiful face. The Garden of Eden has two particularly scintillating examples of this gloriously unreal movie gloss. One is in the titular garden of the great hotel. As the lovers meet beneath one of the phoniest trees ever created, apple blossoms drift lazily downward on to a limpid pool. A couple of swans drift hither and yon, so completely on cue that one just knows that, just out of camera range, Milestone has his assistant, Nate Watt, prodding the birds with a pole! And note too what happens when the top of a grand piano is set up. It forms a triangular image in the centre of the screen around which all sorts of other images are built - long shots, close-ups, reflections. Milestone and Arnold really get every inch that can be gotten out of that one camera set-up.

As you may have gathered by now, we like The Garden of Eden not because it's a great film, or an important film, but just because it's fun. It lets you relax instead of coming out slugging you. And it gives you the impression that nobody connected with it deluded themselves that they were making an important film. They were just having fun too.

--- Wm. K. Everson ---