Monthly Archives: September 2013

The Hollywood Kid (Mack Sennett, 1924)

The Hollywood Kid screenshotThe Hollywood Kid (Mack Sennett, 1924)
Directed by Roy Del Ruth
Starring Jackie Lucas, Vernon Dent, and Charles Murray

A screenwriter (Vernon Dent) is trying to pitch a new screenplay to Mack Sennett (himself), who tells him that he’ll make the picture on the condition that the right child actor can be found to play the lead. They find a four or five year old kid playing baseball who somehow manages to lose his pants on the field, hide inside a barrel, and then lose the barrel (Jackie Lucas). He’s just the ticket, they agree, as they rush back to Mack Sennett Studios to get a contract drawn up. A spy from a rival studio (Billy Bevan) is in the room when they return and learns of their hot new discovery. What ensues is a race between the Sennett man and the spy, each hoping to reach the boy’s father (Charles Murray) first and get the kid signed on. Also, a big rolling boulder – at one point, they’re chased by a big, rolling boulder.

It isn’t my style of comedy, but the film is a great behind-the-scenes look at Mack Sennett Studios, including the cyclorama used to shoot cartoon-style chase scenes, where the actors run on what’s essentially a treadmill while a giant circular mural spins behind them. I found it interesting in that regard. Sennett’s world-weary nonchalance, not even batting an eye when a lion enters the room and jumps on his desk, was really the only thing I found funny as far as the narrative goes.

My rating: Meh.

Tess of the Storm Country (1914, 1922)

Tess of the Storm Country posterTess of the Storm Country (Famous Players, 1914)
Directed by Edwin S. Porter
Starring Mary Pickford

…and…

Tess of the Storm Country (United Artists, 1922)
Directed by John S. Robertson
Starring Mary Pickford

Mary Pickford said that her character in Tess of the Storm Country was her favorite out of all the characters she portrayed. It must have been, since she did it twice: once in 1914, and again, reprising the role for the 1922 remake.

Both adaptations take varying liberties with the source material, so I’ll first give a brief summary of the book and then mention the plot difference in the movies:

In Ithaca, New York, on a hill overlooking Cayuga Lake, sits the stately country home of Elias Graves (1914: William Walters / 1922: David Torrence), the minister of the largest church in the city. His daughter Teola (Olive Golden / Gloria Hope) lives with him, his son Frederick (Harold Lockwood / Lloyd Hughes) is away at Cornell University. The view over the water is blighted by a crude village of desperately poor fishermen squatting on the bank of the lake. Graves owns the land and wants nothing more than to tear down every last shanty, but squatter’s law prevents him from evicting the fishermen. Among the squatters are Tessibel Skinner (Mary Pickford) and her father Orn (David Hartford / Forrest Robinson), Ezra Longman (Eugene Walter / Danny Hoy), and Ben Letts (Richard Garrick / Jean Hersholt). Ben was once the boyfriend of Ezra’s sister Myra, but more or less abandoned her when she became pregnant.

Graves uses his influence to enact a ban on net fishing in the lake – hoping to starve out the squatters. Forced into poaching to survive, the men wait until nightfall to haul in their nets. The game warden anticipated this, however, and sweeps in to confiscate the catch. Ben takes Orn’s rifle and shoots the warden dead. Orn hears the shot and discovers the body. He’s examining it when the police arrive. Orn is arrested for the murder of the game warden.

Meanwhile, Frederick is home for vacation. He meets and falls in love with Tess, although the animosity between his father and the squatters limits their interaction. With him is his friend Dan Jordan (Jack Henry / Robert Russell), who has a fling with Fred’s sister Teola. He had hinted at marriage without any immediate plans before, but toward the end of winter break, Teola presses him to set a date as quickly as possible. Dan, oblivious that Teola might be pregnant, brushes her off with the same vague promise.

An accident occurs at the university and Dan is killed. Teola, realizing now that she has no hope of saving her honor, goes to the cliffs with suicidal intent. She’s found by Tess, who talks her out of it and takes her back to the Skinner shack. Teola gives birth to a premature baby boy, who Tess promises to take care of, not expecting him to live long. Some days later, Teola is with Tess and the baby when Fred comes for an unexpected visit. He intends on asking Tess to marry him, but assumes the worst when he discovers her with a baby. Tess looks to Teola, hoping she’ll confess, but Teola remains silent. Tess keeps her secret, but not without anger.

Orn Skinner is found guilty and sentenced to death. There’s a moving scene in the courthouse, where Tess appeals to the audience and very nearly walks out with her father as they sit in stunned silence, but the Minister breaks the spell and demands he be returned to his cell to await execution.

The Minister had been away for several weeks, during which time Teola supplied Tess with food for the baby, but on his return, the baby is left with what scant supplies are available in the village. His health rapidly declines, and when it becomes obvious to Tess that death will occur in a matter of hours, she takes the baby to the Minister’s church to have him baptized.

The Minister categorically refuses to baptize the dying baby, believing him not only to be a bastard, but worse, a squatter bastard. Tess goes to the font and, to the best of her ability, baptizes the baby herself. Teola, unable to keep silent, rushes forward and claims the now dead baby as her own.

Fred begs for Tess’s forgiveness and renews his offer of marriage. Ezra confesses to Orn’s lawyer that he was there when the shooting occurred and witnessed Ben pull the trigger. A retrial is held and Orn is acquitted. The Minister, humbled by what he’s done, deeds the lakefront to the squatter village.

Tess of the Storm Country slideI’ve left out some subplots, but that’s the main story. Neither film adaptation was so bold as to make the villain a minister. In the 1914 version, Graves is at least a deacon of the church. In the 1922 version, he’s just a member of the congregation. The change undercuts the depth of his villainy – not only wanting his own grandson dead, but personally damning him to Hell. Dan is also whitewashed in the ’22 version. In it, he wants to marry Teola, but her father won’t allow it. He becomes Graves’s accomplice, hoping to win his favor. That change works, I think – it adds depth to the character and it turns him into an excellent foil for Fred, who always opposed his father’s treatment of the squatters. It does lose the parallel between Dan and Ben, but then neither film spends as much time establishing Ben as does the book, so the parallel would be lost anyway.

Apart from changing the minister into a deacon, the 1914 version omits very little of the book – the Bill Hopkins subplot, what happens to Ben after the confession… really, that’s about it. To squeeze all that material into five reels is quite a feat. Some scenes move along so fast you hardly see them. With its breakneck speed, the film sometimes neglects to introduce characters when it should. We see Teola and the setup for her arc long before we know who she is or what her name might be. Ezra, who appears early and frequently in the film and is central to the resolution of the main plot, is never actually identified until the very end.

Tess of the Storm Country (1914) was one of the last films directed by Edwin S. Porter, the pioneering filmmaker most known for his landmark Edison works Life of an American Fireman (1903) and The Great Train Robbery (1903). Like so many other pioneers, Porter didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the rapid advances in cinematography in the decades that followed. Other than its length, if you told me Tess of the Storm Country had actually been filmed in 1904, I’d have no reason to disbelieve you. With hardly any exception, all the scenes are shot in a very flat, staid tableau style. It does work – the narrative never becomes incomprehensible – but it’s insanely antiquated for 1914.

The 1922 remake begins with a forward stating its reason for existence. It acknowledges the 1914 version and explains that this “re-creation” was made “under the improved conditions of modern photoplay production”. The conditions certainly are improved. Compositionally speaking alone, there’s artistry in every shot. The pacing issues of the original are all more than corrected, and the pared-down story would surely be much easier to follow for someone unfamiliar with the source. That said, completely removing Graves’s position in the church – while likely a necessity to be passed by the National Board of Review, to say nothing of the church-dominated New York censorship board – destroys what should be the emotional finale. That is the one area in which I think the 1914 version is unequivocally superior.

I’d recommend both, but see the ’22 version first.

My rating: I like them.


1922 version available from Image Entertainment

The Girl in the Arm-Chair (Solax, 1912)

The Girl in the Arm-Chair screenshotThe Girl in the Arm-Chair (Solax, 1912)
Directed by Alice Guy-Blaché
Starring Blanche Cornwall and Mace Greenleaf

Alice Guy was one of the pioneers of cinema. She began as a director at Gaumont shortly after it opened in 1895; produced some of the first, if not the first narrative films; and directed the first film with a big-budget, La vie du Christ (1906). In 1907, she moved from France to the US and in 1910 founded her own production company, Solax. Over her quarter century career, she made some 400 films, few of which survive today. I’ll be looking at one of her Solax short dramas, The Girl in the Arm-Chair (1912).

 

Peggy Wilson (Blanche Cornwall) has recently become an orphan and a ward of the Waston family. She’s also inherited the late Robert Wilson’s vast fortune, which puts her very much in Mr. Waston’s favor. He would like his son, Frank (Mace Greenleaf), to marry Peggy, but Peggy “is not his style” and “her money is no inducement”.

Frank falls in with a bad crowd. After a night of drinking and poker, he finds himself $500 in debt to one of his new friends. Unable to pay, he’s forced to borrow “five hundred dollars at five hundred percent interest” from a stereotypical Jewish money lender. When the money lender comes to the Waston house a week later, Frank is still unable to pay. The money lender becomes very threatening. They argue in what I suppose is Mr. Waston’s study, where he keeps his safe, the door to which happens to be ajar. Frank, scared by what the money lender might do, steals money from the safe to repay his loan.

What the two of them didn’t know was that they weren’t alone in the room. Peggy was curled up in the armchair napping when the two came in and awoke when the shouting began, just in time to witness the theft. Although Frank doesn’t care for Peggy, Peggy has already fallen in love with him. She decides to cover for Frank, leaving a note claiming that she took the money and enclosing a check to replace it.

That night, Frank has a nightmare which prompts him to confess everything to his father the next day. Mr. Waston, who bought Peggy’s ruse and wasn’t aware that anything was amiss, realizes Peggy must know and be covering for Frank. He insists that Frank marry her, which he agrees to do.

 

It amazes me that this film is from 1912; its crafting is remarkably advanced. It’s unusual to see such a three dimensional use of space in a film of this era. In the first scene, it’s established that the study set is divided roughly into three planes, and that the plane nearest the camera (where the armchair sits) is visible to the audience, but isn’t visible to the characters occupying the planes behind it. Later, it uses that spatial division as part of the story – Peggy witnessing the crime without Frank knowing.

I do have some issues with the filmmaking. The way the film is structured, it isn’t entirely clear what Peggy did until well after Frank’s confession. Honestly, the whole second half is rather confusing on the first watch. Some of the scenes could be re-ordered, and something you’ll rarely hear me say, it could have used some more intertitles. It’s an awfully talky film to be silent, and only once are we told what’s said. That was Guy’s style, though, and it isn’t particular to Arm-Chair.

I love the nightmare sequence. It uses some elaborate special effects for the time – double and triple exposures and lap dissolves – to show a swirl of cards circling Frank’s bed and ghostly gamblers making bets over his headboard. Very effective and interesting to watch.

I liked The Girl in the Arm-Chair. I have varying opinions of the Solax comedies I have in my collection, but I’ve so far been impressed by all the dramas I’ve seen.

My rating: I like it.


Available from Harpodeon