The Theodore Huff Memorial Film Society

This print, made from a recently rediscovered 35mm nitrate original (though the film is available from other sources too) is one of the best extant examples of the unique pictorialism of the Georges Méliès fantasies and trick films; not only is the elaborate hand-coloring well preserved, but the fine condition of the print generally allows one to appreciate the skill and craftsmanship of its often near-surreal design. Like all of the Méliès films, it has a light-hearted, theatrical aura, delighting in its own artificial tricks. The print finishes a bit abruptly and there may be some footage missing at the end, but since there is no real plot, merely a parade of tableaux and marvels, it is not too serious.

This surprisingly elaborate and well-staged miniature epic is far above the average Edison standard, and indeed is superior to the Vitagraph version of the same period. Of added interest today is the later addition of a sound-track with at least adequate music, and the voice of Lord Tennyson himself, transferred from an ancient recording, reading a few of the subtitles that correspond with lines from the poem.

Still these wartime propaganda shorts emerge from the woodwork, all interesting for different reasons. This one, presumably knocked off while Kenton and Chaney we're doing The Ghost of Frankenstein, is almost embarrassingly sentimental and naive, but probably did its job at the time. Chaney seems almost cruelly type-cast from life - obstinate, clumsy, yet well-meaning - and Ludwig Stossel is used to the hilt, both in his own role and as the voice on the radio. Some of it dates rather drastically of course, particularly Osa Massen's comment that in Germany a knock on the door spells fear, whereas in America it can only mean the arrival of a friend! Music, art direction and camerawork are all provided by the team that worked on most of the Universal horror films.

This was Stroheim's last feature but one, evidently done just for the money, although he makes the most of his two big sequences, and camera composition even allows him to dominate the scene after be has been murdered! The film as a whole is a quite expert imitation of the American crime film, full of colorful underworld characters and plenty of car chases, gun battles and fist-fights. Stroheim plays the criminal master-mind, and is talked about constantly before his delayed initial appearance. He received star billing despite his limited screen time, and these excerpts cover all of his scenes. The film is dubbed unfortunately, so we don't get his own voice.

- Intermission -

However, although director Marcel Crevenne does not have a particularly good reputation in Europe, and this is certainly a flawed film, French critics in particular, while welcoming Stroheim's major contribution, were quick to stress that one shouldn't go overboard in attributing everything to Von, since there were reeognisable Cravenne elements too, and it was considered one of his better pictures.

The play was one of Stroheim's earlier works, far less subtle in its vitriolic treatment of women than each later plays as Miss Julie. It was of course of great influence on Swedish films in general and those of Bergman in particular, while Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is a virtually direct derivation. Considering that the role of the martinet officer has been played by such diverse actors as Laurence Olivier, Lars Hanson and George C. Scott, it is perhaps worth noting that Stroheim comes closest to the physical description of the character as set out by Strindbeig. It's also somewhat ironic that the role of the tormenting/tormented wife should be played by Denise Vernac, who was so devoted to von Stroheim over the last 20 years of his life.

A synopsis of the film follows these notes; also, as we advised in our Bulletin, a reading of the play will have helped considerably. Much of the dialogue consists of small talk and mutual accusations, unimportant in its content, but very important in that it is an outlet for hatred and bitchiness! It has been somewhat toned down in the film, mainly because of some reshapings. A secondary romance, if one can really call it that, has been transferred from the second half of the play. The film is really just the first half of the play, with certain elements (and the climax) transferred to it from the second half. Very much involved in this second half of the play are very complex motivations and machinations revolving around the family of the Jean Servais character, and one is never sure how much of what is reported on is actual or fabrication - until the climactic confrontations. The simplification of the secondary romantic theme removes some of these "complications."

The Stroheim changes include the addition of a short prologue at a Ball, and several additional scenes which give him the opportunity to parade in uniform, review troops, and bark out orders. He has also heightened and tightened the effect of certain scenes; the dance of the title is virtually "thrown away" in the play; Stroheim makes it into a visual and dramatic highlight as he performs the dance then strips away some interim material, and goes directly into the scene (after his collapse) where he insists on sleeping on the couch, fearing that he will die if he goes to bed. One other interesting touch not in the play - the attempted escape of a prisoner, and the Stroheim character setting off fireworks to reveal his presence in a rowboat at sea. Before shooting him down Stroheim calls his name - Boldieu - the name of the Pierre Fresnay character in La Grande Illusion, also shot down by Stroheim in a roughly parallel sequence.

Although the film is of course dialogue-dominated, it is a handsome film with striking sets and photography, some of the sets seemingly designed to facilitate camera mobility and to prevent the film becoming just a talk-fest. Stroheim never completely mastered French, so his careful delivery makes it a little easier for those of us with very shaky French to follow the dialogue. Denise Vernac has probably never had a more demanding role, and she does surprisingly well.

The play incidentally really needs a major actor to make it work. Heresy though it may be to suggest this, it is such an unrelievedly heavy-play, constantly stripping away more and more layers to reveal more and more psychological horrors beneath, that it is frankly very difficult to take it seriously. One can even imagine John Barrymore and Carole Lombard taking the play as written, and with Howard Hawks directing (and perhaps Herman Bing as a sentry) turning it, without effort, into a hilarious comedy just by virtue of their own artistry.

--- William K. Everson ---