Jason watches PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (1925)

And with Dennis James on the Mighty Wurlitzer, of course.

This is Lon Chaney at his best. Not just in the grotesque makeup transformation, but in his oddly compelling and sympathetic portrayal of the Phantom. The big unmasking scene is brilliant, and his whole network of underground tunnels and traps is a whole lot of fun. And I was surprised to find there's a good deal of comic relief in it. Lots of fun.

Oh, and the masquerade ball was in Technicolor (apparently 5 sequences were shot in color as well, but in the version last Friday this was the only one in color,) which is pretty important since the Phantom shows up with a skull mask and wearing all red--a pretty obvious reference to Poe's The Masque of the Red Death. That was very cool.

I should also note that this was the silent version of the 1929 re-release, which was the sixth release of the film. Each time it was cut down a bit from previous versions, and in the 1929 version they added a sound bit in the beginning with a man holding a lantern and introducing what has led up to the events you are about to witness (BTW, the industry term for a talking scene inserted into an otherwise silent movie is a "goat gland" scene. Don't ask me why.) Anyway, I say this was the silent version because due to some technical glitch or mistake, there was no sound for the goat gland scene. But we did get to hear Dennis James rocking the Tocatta and Fugue in D minor, so that was cool.

Running Time: 85 minutes
My Total Minutes: 302,361

Jason watches VAMPYR with live music by Steven Severin

Wow! All hail Carl Theodor Dreyer! I had only ever seen his PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC, which is magnificent. This was his first sound film, but last night at the Roxie it was silent again with a new score by Steven Severin (with pre-show help by Jill Tracy conjuring up the spirits of the night.) Now I could go off on an internal debate about the merits of watching the film in the original version (although the English version is lost, what remains is pieced together from the French and German versions) vs. new interpretations. And that debate actually becomes more interesting when it involves an early talkie film, where there is one true soundtrack (even if there's a written score for a silent film, you're still at the mercy of the accompanist's interpretation.) But instead I'll just leave it at Steven Severin did a great job with the creepy, supernatural score that always put the film first. And I'll say that it's real interesting how easily Dreyer's first talkie is turned back into a silent film.

Dreyer clearly was an expert at silent cinema, and was still relying on all his silent film skills even when he transitioned to sound. And it's pretty amazing what he did visually to create the weird atmosphere. Disembodied shadows walking around. Ethereal, translucent ghost versions of people walking around (I remember being amazed in 1985 when Michael J. Fox dissolved before our eyes in BACK TO THE FUTURE, but Dreyer did the same thing 53 years earlier!) These are even more impressive when you know there were no computers and all the effects were done in-camera.

Oh, as for the story, it's pretty simple. A traveler Allen Gray arrives at a small village where strange things happen. He has an interest in the supernatural, and soon finds evidence of vampires. But the story is really immaterial, it's the tone and style that's important. And last night, both Dreyer and Severin got it just right.

Running Time: 70 minutes
My Total Minutes: 300,437

Jason watches FOOLISH WIVES

At the Stanford Theatre, with Dennis James rocking the Mighty Wurlitzer Organ. And it was pretty awesome.

Of course, it's all about Erich Von Stroheim. He directs and stars (and is credited as the author of the novel-within-the-film) as a count/conman in Monte Carlo. He lives off counterfeiting and from the money he swindles from the rich ladies who pass through the town. Especially the wife of the U.S. Ambassador.

But to understand the movie, you have to understand how it was made. After a couple of successes, he was given carte blanche by Universal to make whatever he wanted. So he made the first film ever to cost over $1,000,000. He obsessed over verisimilitude to the point where the underwear of his military uniform needed to be authentic (it is never seen on screen.) And his final edit was 32 reels (~8 hours.) Universal cut it in half, then thought about it for a year, then cut it in half again, down to 7 reels. Fortunately, there were two different 7 reel cuts that survived and have been pieced together as best as possible. The final result ran 2 hours and 22 minutes (~9-10 reels.) But it means the end result is choppy and poorly paced, but contains individually brilliant scenes (my two personal favorites are the mirror scene and the crying scene, both showcasing Von Stroheim at his conniving best.) I know it's crazy to say I wish the 8 hour cut survived so I could see it, but that's the honest truth. I'm sure the original was brilliant and although it would be an all-day marathon with more than a few intermissions, I'm sure the time would fly right by. Well, one can only wish.

Running Time: 142 minutes
My Total Minutes: 299,755

Jason watches THE WIND

I first saw this back in 2009 at the SF Silent Film Festival. Here's what I said back then:

The feature was a Lillian Gish drama, THE WIND. This was Gish's last silent film, and the last film in Hollywood for Swedish director Victor Sjöström [note: credited as Victor Seastrom].  When it was released (in 1928), it was critically mixed and a commercial flop, and ended Gish's relationship with MGM. However, she got the last laugh when it was added to the National Film Registry in 1993. Gish always talked about how this was her hardest film to make, and well in to her 80's and 90's (she lived to be just short of 100) she was touring with this film and others. In those tours the accompanist was the acclaimed organist Dennis James. For the performance last Saturday, the accompanist was also acclaimed organist Dennis James on the Mighty Wurlitzer, plus sound effects artists on two wind machines (plus a few other effects, like a cap gun that did a great job of making the audience jump). By the way, Dennis performed for two films of the festival, but was in the audience watching the other 10 (for at least a few, in the row right behind me). He's a fan, he's very personable, and told some funny stories about Lillian Gish (like how she advised him never to get married). He's not just a great musician and silent film accompanist, he's officially a cool guy.

Now (finally) to the film. Gish plays Letty, a girl from Virginia who's moving out to Texas to live on her cousin's ranch. While still on the train, the fierce winds appear as a character as much as a force of nature. When she arrives, as the beautiful new lady in town she attracts the attention of all the neighbors. That's not so bad. The bad thing is she attracts the wrath of her cousin's wife, Cora. She's not just jealous of the attention her children pay to Letty, she's jealous of the attention her husband pays to her (um...nothing happens. And gross, they're cousins!) She's kicked out of the house with no place to live and the relentless wind driving her madder and madder every minute. She agrees to marriage, but it's a loveless marriage of convenience. At least, it's loveless on her end, he loves her but she's disgusted by him. In a way, her home becomes a prison with the wind as the ever watchful guard (there, I kept the prison theme going one more movie!) Well, there's a climax with yet another suitor who just can't give her up no matter how married she is, and finally she learns to love the wind (after all, any force of nature that will bury a body is a friend of mine).

The version of THE WIND we saw had a happy ending, but an original ending--with Letty going mad and walking off into the wind--is rumored to exist (and there are also rumors that the original "going crazy and walking off into the desert ending is just a rumor and never existed).

Well, other than the fact that we "only" had Dennis James on the Wurlitzer last Friday, no wind machines or cap guns, it's still pretty much as I said before. Although this time, I picked up a little more tenderness from her for her suitors (and her eventual husband.) She is definitely (although innocently) flirting with them ever so slightly. And the fact is, she didn't enter the marriage intending for it to be loveless. She just figured it would take a little time for her to warm up to him. The key scene for me was when he tried to push himself on her too quickly and she says, "Oh, now you made me hate you. I didn't want to hate you." That scene figured much more prominently in my reading this time. Interesting how the same movie can feel slightly different every time you see it.

Running Time: 81 minutes
My Total Minutes: 297,392

Jason watches WAY DOWN EAST (1920) at the Stanford Theatre

Two of the greatest of the greats of silent film teamed up in this (and many other films)--Lillian Gish and D. W. Griffith. And they made an excellent, epic broad and effective melodrama with equally broad comedy. Lillian plays Anna Moore, a naive country girl who is tricked by a rich playboy Lennox Sanderson (Lowell Sherman.) He stages a fake wedding, while she just thinks they're getting married in secret. Then he has his way with her and leaves her pregnant, alone, and humiliated. The baby dies, which is bad enough, but due to her past she has to live in secret and never marry another man (okay, this is1920, you have to look at it from 1920 standards.) She gets work at a simple country farm run by a hard, moral Squire Bartlett (Burr McIntosh) and his kindly wife (Kate Bruce.) They also have a very handsome son David (Richard Bartelmass,) which would be nice if she were marriageable. Oh, and Sanderson happens to live right across the street, making everything awkward.

A romance between the Squire's niece Kate (the lovely Mary Hay) and a visiting professor studying butterflies (Creighton Hale) provides comic relief. And the busybody maid who finds out about Anna's past provides the tragedy, culminating in a famous scene with Lillian lying, freezing on an ice floe.

By the way, the ice floe scene actually left Lillian with lifelong nerve damage in her hand. And yet, she claimed this wasn't the most difficult movie to film. That was THE WIND (1928)--coincidentally playing on August 17th at the Stanford.

Dennis James rocked the mighty Wurlitzer organ with the original 1920 score, and it was fantastic. The film was actually a reconstruction of the original 1920 premiere. A few scenes were missing and replaced with text and production stills illustrating what was supposed to be on screen. Interestingly enough, Griffith was famous for going back and re-editing his movies long after their initial release (even after donating them to the Museum of Modern Art.) So this reconstruction was guided by the original score--it had all the information on the order and length of every scene. It's an interesting thing to think about the next time you get upset that George Lucas went off and changed STAR WARS again.

Running Time: 145 minutes (estimated, because I forgot to set my stopwatch. And, in fact, I'm pretty sure this is an underestimate.)
My Total Minutes: 196,154

Jason watche NAPOLEON with live orchestra and Polyvision

Wow, wow, wow wow wow wow!

Let's see, I can't get away with just repeating "wow" a thousand times for a blog post, can I?

Let me start by saying there are two more screenings, tomorrow (Saturday) and Sunday, March 31 and April 1. Get tickets if you can. If you can't, just go there early, beat someone up in line and steal his ticket. Wait, don't do that, I'm just kidding. But it would be worth it (including the jail time.)

Okay, so I got there and I had my normal seat, front row center. Actually, slightly off-center, as the center of the Paramount is an aisle. I should've brought a folding chair and actually sat in the center, but I was just to the right instead. I was about an arms length away from Carl Davis conducting the Oakland East Bay Symphony, and that was pretty amazing. The orchestra was fantastic, and I suppose decorum should prevent me from mentioning the hot bassoonist I ogled occasionally. (To be fair, my unnamed friend ogled her more, and he was there with his girlfriend)

Let's get on with the movie, shall we? It's an amazing epic, the faster 5 1/2 hours I've ever spent, which is amazing because with three intermissions and a dinner break, it was actually 8 1/4 hours. The story opens with Napoleon as a little child, at school in France. He shows budding battlefield tactical expertise and an iron will as he leads his rag-tag army of only 10 children in a victorious snowball fight against an army of 40. Still, neither the students nor the teachers really respect him. His foes he vanquished on the field of snowy battle break in and release his beloved pet eagle. I really, really want a pet eagle now. But not one I keep in a cage, one that flies free but returns to me at dramatically appropriate times!

As a grown man, he returns to his home in Corsica [Author's note: An earlier version said Sicily, which is because I'm an idiot who confuses islands...also, I'm perpetually drunk] where he finds the island is torn by political forces who want to align with England, Spain, Italy, or France. Napoleon, of course, is the champion of the French cause. He barely escapes the turmoil in Corsica, and joins the French army in the artillery. And then let me not get bogged down in details of the plot. We see his struggles and triumphs during the Revolution. The director Abel Gance appears as Saint-Just, the most feared figure of The Terror. Then a bunny shows up randomly. It was really weird to be sitting in the beautiful Paramount, watching such a great film, and then reflexively shout-whisper, "bunny!" and have my friends (who know my little bunny obsession) stifle their giggles. If anyone else heard that and was annoyed, I'm really really sorry. I just have a thing about bunnies.

Anyway, we see Napoleon almost sent to the guillotine (same for Josephine.) We see him go from that to becoming the hero of France. We see his obsession for Josephine. And we see him go off and conquer Italy. And that we see in Polyvision. Two side screens open up (there's a gasp and then cheer from the audience) and we see three synchronized projectors show the final 20 minutes in an amazing, awesome technical achievement that pre-dates Cinerama by a quarter century. And then, just to crown everything perfectly, his eagle returns once more! The end.

Oh yeah, it ends with his victory in Italy, none of the rest of his life. Nothing more of Josephine. No Elba. No Waterloo. Dammit, I want a sequel, this 5 1/2 hour movie wasn't long enough!

As a side note, I know a lot of people who say they'll wait and see it when it comes to Los Angeles or New York or...wherever else they are. I'd never say never, but I think I have about as much of a chance of seeing zombie Abel Gance direct a sequel to Napoleon as you have of seeing this somewhere else. I know it's last-minute, but just get a ticket, fly the red-eye into OAK, and go see it. You won't regret it.

So that's the story, and I haven't even talked about the technical brilliance of the film, other than Polyvision and some hints about the recurring eagle. Well, here goes. Abel Gance's use of multiple exposures was masterful--all throughout the movie but particularly when the ghosts in parliament appear to Napoleon and plead with him to be the hero of France. Same with his rapid editing and early use of handheld cameras. Napoleon is cast perfectly, both as a child (Vladimir Roudenko) and an adult (Albert Dieudonné.) In particular, their iron-willed stares are excellent. My friends and eye ended up joking about "eagle-facing" each other during the dinner break.

Now, just a couple of hints for people who are planning to see it this weekend:

1. During the 20 minute intermissions, have a plan of action. You can go to the concession stand and get a drink and/or snack. Or you can buy a souvenir (poster, larger program guide) and maybe get it signed. Or you can go to the bathroom. You won't have time to do more than one, the lines will be too long.
2. Related, the concession stands to serve alcohol, and you are allowed to bring it back to your seat. So if you want to have a bit of bubbly to aid in the French-ness of the day, you can.
3. During the dinner break, have reservations at a nearby restaurant already. It might be too late, and all of them are booked now. We had reservations and it still took nearly an hour and a half to get there, order, eat, pay, and return to the theater. If we had to wait 20 minutes for a table somewhere, we would've been screwed.
4. Just enjoy. Don't be afraid of the long running time. Seriously, it's the quickest 5 1/2 hours of your life.

Running Time: 330 minutes (that really throws off my average minutes/movie)

My Total Minutes: 275,330

Jason explicates NOSFERATU

In all the excitement of seeing so many new movies at Cinequest, I've almost lost sight of my favorite old movie, playing Friday night at the California, with the always awesome Dennis James at the organ: NOSFERATU

Anyone who has seen it can tell you about the amazing visuals, the creepy tone, and how it's the first (surviving) version of Dracula on screen (with names changed in a failed attempt to avoid copyright issues). But I just want to add my interpretation (and I'm probably not the first with this take) to the mix in hopes that thinking about this will give anyone who sees it at least a more interesting viewing experience, whether you agree with it or not.

The key to understanding NOSFERATU is to sympathize with the female lead (something that's pretty rare even in contemporary films). In particular, the key is to realize that while Thomas and Ellen Hutter are married, it is an unconsummated marriage. In the opening scene we see Ellen sitting at home, bored, playing with her pussy...cat. We then see her husband Thomas, skipping along like an idiot man-child. He picks some flowers and brings them to her. Although we can't hear the conversation, I imagine it goes something like this:

Thomas: "Guess what, dear?"

Ellen: "We're finally going to do it!?"

Thomas: "No! I picked you some flowers!"

She's visibly disappointed at receiving flowers. What kind of woman is disappointed at receiving flowers? Answer: One who is tired of his bullcrap. But she thinks fast and makes up an excuse about being sad because the flowers will now die. Nearly the identical exchange occurs minutes later when he explains he's going to Transylvania on business.

In Transylvania, of course, he runs across Count Orlok, the vampire (and the physical manifestation of the unfetter male id). As Orlok attacks Hutter, Ellen feels something and reaches out...to Orlok, not to her husband. Through her longing, she brings Orlok, and all his destruction, to the city.

Ellen waits for her lover to return. She waits by the seashore. Her husband is coming by land, it's Orlok who is coming by sea. Orlok is now (psychically) her love, not her husband. Unfortunately, he brings sickness, death, destruction (he is, after all, the unfettered male id).

In order to defeat the Vampire, Ellen must make a sacrifice. She must give herself to him, keeping him "up all night" and "engorged with blood" until the "cock crows" thereby killing him. It's a metaphor....

NOSFERATU is a story of the female libido--the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.

Enjoy NOSFERATU at Cinequest, 7:00 Friday night.

Jason watches THE BLACK PIRATE

The California Theatre summer movie series had another silent film gala last night with Dennis James rockin' on the Mighty Wurlitzer. $5, free popcorn, awesome classic films. Can't beat that.

It was a true silent movie show, with a comedy short and an action feature. The comedy was provided by Laurel and Hardy with TWO TARS. As two sailors on shore leave, they pick up a couple of girls in their rented car, and head out for a trip. But a traffic jam slows them down, and they start a riot which ends with every car getting destroyed--much to the delight of the ladies. This was a storage prints, so all but one or two frames of the titles were removed (so foreign distributors would know where to put their titles). So we couldn't read anything, but you really didn't have to. It was hilarious as it was.

And then Douglas Fairbanks wowed the crowd with his trademark daring-do--in Technicolor. That's right, all the way back in the silent days (THE BLACK PIRATE was made in 1926), there were some color films. Two-strip Technicolor was the new thing then, although it was very expensive and some projectionists had a hard time with it, so it was released in color and black-and-white prints. We got the color version.

Fairbanks plays the title role (of course), but he doesn't start as a pirate. He and his father are the only survivors of a pirate attack, and are marooned on an island. He swears revenge, and as luck would have it the pirates show up to hide their treasure. But instead of a straightforward attack, he uses his cunning. He joins the pirates, and kills their leader in a test of strength and skill with a sword. To most, he becomes the new leader, but there's a faction that is loyal to the old ways. He wins most over by taking a merchant vessel single-handed (a showcase of his acrobatics). But then when it's discovered that there's a beautiful young lady on the ship, he must protect her--both because of his sense of honor and because of love at first sight. And this leads to more cunning, more acrobatics, and more heroism.

Douglas Fairbanks was famous for doing his own stunts, and watching him is pretty amazing. One thing I really love is his way of standing with his hands on his hips--probably the only Douglas Fairbanks "move" I can do. But something occurred to me on the way home last night. I've seen that pose before--in someone who's arguably more famous for it than Fairbanks, but someone who came along much later. He must have been copying Fairbanks all along, and the only thing that makes sense is this: