Wolf Blood (1925)

Shapeshifting, the ability of certain people to transform into an animal has been present in the traditions of almost every culture in the history of humanity. The figure of the werewolf is perhaps the best known example of this fascination, as the mythological lycanthrope has been deeply ingrained in modern popular culture thanks to horror cinema. While vampires, ghosts and witches were well-known figures in Gothic literature before their transition to film, werewolves didn't had more background other than the many different folktales, loosely related between them. This lack of a solid bases resulted in a great freedom to experiment for the writers dealing with the myth of the werewolf, and it would be Curt Siodmak who would define the Werewolf in his seminal script for Universal's classic "The Wolf Man" in 1942. However, that wasn't the first werewolf film, as several movies before tried to make a film about shapeshifters. 1925's "Wolf Blood" is one of the them, an early attempt to bring shapeshifting to film.

In "Wolf Blood" (also known as "Wolfblood: A Tale of the Forest"), George Chesebro plays Dick Bannister, the new field boss of the Ford Logging Company, a lumber camp in the Canadian wilderness trying to compete with the powerful Consolidated Lumber Company. Their rivalry isn't really healthy competition, as Consolidated Lumber Company's aggressive tactics have grown more violent towards the employees of Ford Logging Company, who have even been shot. Bannister requires now the presence of his boss and a medical surgeon to treat his men, but his new boss turns out to be the young Edith Ford (Marguerite Clayton), who arrives with her fiancé, Dr. Gene Horton (Ray Hanford). Bannister falls in love with Miss Ford, but that's probably the least of his problems as he is attacked by rival loggers and left for dead in the woods. Fortunately, he is saved by a transfusion of wolf blood, though this fact begins the rumour that Dick is now a werewolf. Something that he begins to believe, as their rival loggers begin to appear dead. Killed by a savage beast.

Based on a story by Cliff Hill and adapted by prolific scriptwriter Bennett Cohen, the story in "Wolf Blood" has less in common with horror films of the same period and is actually closer to the westerns and adventure films that Cohen was churning out in the 1920s. In fact, other than the novel werewolf theme (which is actually introduced later in the film), the story is basically focused on Bannister's fight against Consolidated Lumber Company, and of course, the love triangle that's established between him, Ford and Dr. Horton. And taken in that way, "Wolf Blood" actually works despite its typical structure and obviously derivative nature. The werewolf aspect of the story, while certainly unexplored, makes for the memorable element of "Wolf Blood": when Dick too begins to believe he's actually a werewolf, the story enters a decidedly darker and more interesting tone. Unfortunately, this is merely a glimpse of what the story could had been if Cohen had been a tad more adventurous in his screenplay, though the ideas are there.

And it's in fact this glimpse what makes for the most remarkable sequence in the film, a visually attractive sequence that begins as soon as Dick begins to hallucinate about his new lupine nature. While the story is the usual fare of adventure and romance, directors Bruce M. Mitchell and George Chesebro at least had a less than typical idea for the film's visual look. With a pretty strong work of cinematography by Lesley Selander (whom later preferred the job of assistant director), "Wolf Blood" captures in a quite vivid manner the world of lumberjacks, in a series of pretty good shots of natural landscapes. And of course, the afore mentioned hallucinatory vision of the ghostly pack of wolves running through the woods is also a pretty remarkable achievement. Given their backgrounds, it's safe to believe that Mitchell was in charge of the visual look, while actor Chesebro handled the actors. Unfortunately, neither Mitchell nor Chesebro manage to take "Wolf Blood" beyond the usual B-movie fare, as the film has a pretty dated narrative style (even for its time).

Given that he was one of the film's directors, it's not surprising that the film's weight is entirely over George Chesebro and his performance as Dick Bannister. Unfortunately, the seasoned veteran of film industry (famous for his roles in Roy Rogers films for Republic) fails to deliver his best work, and is a tad hammy in his performance. Not to say that he is downright bad, but his work is certainly of a pretty average quality. Perhaps the handling of directorial duties was too much for him, as he never directed again and focused on his acting career. A lot better is Marguerite Clayton, who plays Bannister's love interest Edith Ford. As the young socialité, Clayton is actually believable in her role, and as stereotypical as her character is, at least she manages to give her a defined personality. As Dr. Horton, Ray Hanford isn't really amazing, though he does his job competently, albeit it could had been interesting if his character had been better developed.

Despite its clearly supernatural theme, there's little in "Wolf Blood" that would make it qualify as a horror film, as it is heavily grounded in the romance adventure kind of stories that were common in B-movies. Ultimately, this sadly undermines the originality of the film's novel premise, as while the themes are there, it all just feels unexplored, as if the filmmakers had opted to just play safe and go with the proved formula. Which is understandable, given that "Wolf Blood" was by all accounts an independently produced film; however, this doesn't justify the sloppy narrative style that Mitchell and Chesebro employ in the film, as even when compared to the movies done in 1925, "Wolf Blood" can't help but feeling a bit archaic. Granted, it has a couple of remarkably done sequences, but overall the result isn't entirely satisfying, and all in all the film can't help but feeling like a great idea that was left unexploited. Nevertheless, for an early shot at building a story out of werewolves, it probably could had been worse.

While not the first werewolf film (an unfortunately lost film from 1913, Henry MacRae's "The Werewolf" holds that honor), "Wolf Blood" is an interesting early werewolf film that has enough historical importance to be worth a watch. Certainly, it can be a disappointment if one expects a full-fledged horror film, but taken as what it is, a romance adventure with supernatural undertones, it's actually not that bad. A bit mediocre perhaps, but not exactly bad. Overall, "Wolf Blood" makes for an interesting watch if only to witness a quite different take on the werewolf myth, one done before the full moon, before the silver bullet, before Siodmak's classic "The Wolf Man" left its immortal mark in horror history.

5/10
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Häxan (1922)

In the early days of cinema, Danish film industry flourished with great success, beginning with the founding in 1906 of Nordisk Films Kompagni, the country's first filmmaking company. In five years, Denmark was now competing against the American, French and German film industries in the European market. This was the Golden Age of Danish Cinema, where figures such as actress Asta Nielsen and director Carl Theodor Dreyer began their careers. In those days, a young actor named Benjamin Christensen began his career in the film industry, and soon found himself beginning a career as a director as well. While by 1914 the Golden Age was reaching its end, Christensen still found some success with his two first films. In 1918, Christensen found a copy of the "Malleus Maleficarum", the book that inquisitors used as guide to deal with witches. Inspired by the horrors and superstition of the middle ages, Christensen conceived a film about how the misunderstanding of mental illness could lead to the infamous witch-hunts. The result was a legendary film: "Häxan".

Combining different documentary techniques such as slideshow and dramatization of events, "Häxan" ("Witch", though the film is also called in English "Witchcraft through the Ages"), examines the history of witchcraft during the Middle Ages, detailing the practices of witches and the ideas about them and demons that inquisitors of the time had. This is done initially with illustrations, paintings and intertitles, even a large scale model of the medieval view of the solar system is employed. Later, a dramatization takes place depicting several vignettes that cover several superstitions about witches. In these dramatizations we see a coven of witches, a black mass, and a group of monks being terrorized by the Devil (played by Christensen himself). Later, "Häxan" takes the form of a narrative fiction, in which an old woman (Maren Pedersen) is accused of witchcraft and her trial at the Inquisition is shown. In the final part Christensen shows vignettes about what his thesis: that mental illness was misunderstood as witchcraft in the Middle Ages.

Written by Christensen himself, "Häxan" is at the same time a serious documentary and a horror film, fusing both reality and fiction to construct what could be considered as one of the earliest examples of a film essay. The script, result of a big work of research on Christensen's part, is highly informative and does a great job in describing the beliefs and superstitions regarding witchcraft in the Middle Ages; certainly, Christensen knew his subject well, and the dramatizations, while definitely aimed to shock the audience, have a certain degree of authenticity (considering the knowledge available at the time of its release, of course). Christensen's fictional narrative is also quite good, well structured and faithful to historical records, or well, as faithful as it can be to suit Christensen's purpose. As a film essay, "Häxan" elaborates on a point, with each scene building up on Christensen's thesis on witchcraft and insanity; and while it's certainly an interesting observation, the director is a tad heavy handed on the repeated exposition of his point of view.

Where "Häxan" truly shines is in the remarkable way that Christensen built up the whole thing, displaying a level of originality that made the film unique. Documentaries were nothing new in 1922 (after all, cinema began with documentaries), but way Christensen employed the very diverse techniques to create his movie was so unusual that even today the film escapes a proper classification. It is a documentary that explores a complete new way to pose a topic. As written above, it's more a film essay on the topic of witchcraft than a documentary per se; so to elaborate on his morbid subject, Christensen conceived vignettes of shocking horror to truly portray witchcraft the way inquisitors saw it. The enormous amount of care done in the art design (Richard Louw), and the remarkable work of cinematography (by Johan Ankerstjerne) result in a powerfully atmospheric movie, one with a beauty so mesmerizing that truly seems like arisen from the depths of the Hell it depicts. At the time, it was the most expensive Danish film, and it shows.

Benjamin Christensen conceives pretty amazing set pieces that rival those of German Expressionism in their dark, ominous atmosphere. The cast does a great job as well, even when several were not professional actors (including Maren Pedersen, arguably the protagonist of the core dramatization). It's interesting to find Danish filmmaker Alice O'Fredericks as a nun, role she played on the film besides working as Christensen's script supervisor. In general, Christensen's level of care in his production is a testament of the interest he had in the theme. And perhaps this interest also explains what could be considered as one of the film's flaws: Christensen's narrative seems to ramble over its points a tad too much for its own good, resulting in a very slow rhythm that can be tiring at times. It's worth to point out that in 1968 the film was cut to 77 minutes for a re-release, with an added narration by author William S. Burroughs. It is this version the one that got the title "Witchcraft through the Ages". It's an interesting curiosity, though in no way an improvement over Christensen's vision.

Haunting, sombre, and visually beautiful, "Häxan" proved to be a controversial film because of its depictions of nudity and violence; however, director Benjamin Christensen managed to keep his vision almost intact and the result was one of the most unique and strange movies ever made. Half documentary, half horror film, "Häxan" showcases a collection of unforgettable images that can be disturbing and beautiful at the same time. The images of hell, the black mass, and the remarkable interrogation scenes (that may have given an idea or two to Carl Theodor Dreyer) are a testament of Benjamin Christensen's talent. Unfortunately, most of his films seem to be lost (at this moment), but at least "Häxan" survives to posterity as one of the earliest and most amazing film essays ever done.

8/10
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Irish Destiny (1926)

In 1916, a group of Irish republicans mounted an insurrection with the goal of ending centuries of British rule over Ireland and the creation of an independent Irish Republic. The Easter Rising, as it came to be known, was quickly suppressed but its influence was enormously significant: it became the seed for the declaration of Independence in 1919 and the subsequent war against the United Kingdome of Great Britain. The Irish War of Independence lasted from 1919 to 1922, and resulted in the separation of Ireland from the United Kingdom and the instauration of the Republic of Ireland. Naturally, the Irish War of Independence became an important theme for the arts of the new republic, and cinema was not the exception. While the war took its toll in the nascent Irish film industry, the year of 1926 saw the release of the first film inspired by the war of independence: George Dewhurst's "Irish Destiny". Considered lost for many years, the film was rediscovered in 1991, offering a glimpse of the Republic of Ireland's early years.

With the Irish War of Independence as background, "Irish Destiny" is the tale of Denis O'Hara (Paddy Dunne Cullinan), a young man leading a normal life in a small Irish town. Denis is in love with the Moira Barry (Frances Macnamarra), who is the town's teacher. However, he is also aware of the situation of his country so, when given the chance, Denis decides to join the Irish Republican Army in the war of independence. As a member of a group of Irish Volunteers, Denis fights under the orders of Captain Kelly (Kit O'Malley) against the British Army branch known as the Black & Tans. The discovery of plans for a raid at the IRA headquarters, prompts Captain Kelly to send Denis to Dublin and warn the heads of the movement. So, Denis rushes to Dublin in order to fulfill his mission, but in the meantime, the villainous Gilbert Beecher (Brian Magowan) begins to court Moira. To complicate things, Denis gets shot by the Black & Tans, and ends up wounded at a Dublin's hospital. Everyone at home now believes him death, much to the dismay of his mother (Daisy Campbell) and Moira.

Written and produced by Isaac J. Eppel, "Irish Destiny" is at its core, a pretty basic melodrama of romance and heroism during wartime, designed to exalt the ideals of the war of Independence and the values of Irish people (in which of course rests the Irish destiny). Denis, an everyman representing the promising Irish youth, decides to put duty to his country as his main priority and risks his life and happiness in order to do the right thing. While this may sound like bordering propaganda, Eppel's story never tries to be anything more than a harmless tale of romance and adventure. In fact, this unwillingness to go further is actually a problem of the screenplay of "Irish Destiny", as it feels too archaic, even for its time. Interestingly, the British army is not really demonized, and it could even be argued that they receive a fair treatment. The true villains in Denis' life are actually fellow Irishmen: Beecher and his gang of poteen-makers, whom indifferent to the cause, just take advantage of the situation for their own benefit.

Directed by British filmmaker George Dewhurst (who would direct the very first version of "Sweeney Todd" that same year), "Irish Destiny" is particularly notable because of one single reason: the use of real footage from the burnings of Cork in 1920, and of the Customs House in 1921. While narratively those events are only referred to set the historical time-frame of the film, the images shown work as a time capsule from Dublin during the war, and are of invaluable for historical reasons. Also of great interest are the vistas of Dublin that Dewhurst and cinematographer Joe Rosenthal capture, specially during Denis' arrival to the city: a series of scenes following Denis riding a motorcycle through Dublin's streets, where Trinity College and St. Stephen's Greens can be spotted. Other than that, Dewhurst's film is pretty traditional in its approach to melodrama, and does little to improve its simplistic screenplay. Though there are some interesting ideas scattered through the film, for the most part the narrative is sloppy and static.

Acting in "Irish Destiny" is a mixed bag: though there are pretty good performances in the film, there are some that are not that lucky, and amongst them is unfortunately the one from the film's protagonist, Paddy Dunne Cullinan. As Denis, Cullinan looks wooden and stiff, and his emotional range is pretty limited. While he looks the part of the hero, his acting leaves a lot to be desired, and this severely compromises the film's success. As her love interest, Frances Macnamarra is slightly better, not much of an improvement though she certainly looks more natural than her stiff counterpart. A better performance is the one given by Brian Magowan, as the vicious Beecher. While his role is certainly one-dimensional, Magowan adds a lot of personality to his character with his facial gestures. It's not difficult to buy him as a sly and treacherous fella. In the supporting roles, Kit O'Malley and Evelyn Henchey are remarkably good. Henchey in particular is a much more natural and attractive presence in the film than Macnamarra.

Probably the main problem of "Irish Destiny" is how simple it is, and this is taking into account its release date. While by 1926 silent cinema had reached the peak of its art, George Dewhurst's war melodrama feels as a movie 10 years older than its true age, from a time where cinema's language was still in development. Static and terribly stage-bound, its narrative is pretty conventional to the point of being dull. Though as written above, a lot of the blame must go to the Eppel's screenplay, which follows the pretty basic pattern of American's early adventure films, complete with the last minute rescue. Character development is minimal, as they remain the classic archetypes of adventure films: good looking hero, damsel in distress, and treacherous villain. Perhaps more care while developing the story would had improved the results, as the film is not entirely without redeeming qualities. Unfortunately, those good ideas are lost in a movie that even for 1926 can't help but feeling dated and a tad archaic.

Invaluable as a historical record of Ireland's history, yet marred by an unsophisticated and crude narrative, George Dewhurst's "Irish Destiny" is a difficult film to judge. On one hand it's filled with some amazing shots of 1920s Dublin (not to mention its use of historical footage), yet on the other its stylistic problems are undeniable. In the end, the best recommendation would be to approach this piece of Irish history with an open mind, and expect, perhaps not a classic masterpiece of cinema, but a window to a turning point in the history of Ireland. While as a war melodrama it may fall flat, as a time-capsule and a memory of the city of Dublin, "Irish Destiny" is a magnificent piece of work. For all the movie's flaws, the image of Denis riding through Grafton street in his motorbike has an undeniably haunting beauty.

7/10
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Un Chien Andalou (1929)

One of the most famous short films in the world is definitely Luis Buñuel's debut, "Un Chien Andalou" (literally, "An Andalusian Dog"), and not without a reason, as this 16 minute film's influence extents beyond the cinema and is considered a milestone of the surrealist movement of the late 20s. After watching Fritz Lang's "Der müde Tod" in 1921), Buñuel became fascinated with cinema, and decided to learn as much as possible about it. He became acquainted with filmmaker Jean Epstein and began to work with him as an assistant in Epstein's "Mauprat", and also looked for work in every production he could. Through this experiences, Buñuel not only learned the technique of filmmaking, but also met some of the cast and crew that would help him in his first experiment. 1929 saw the release of the brainchild of director Luis Buñuel and painter Salvador Dalí, "Un Chien Andalou", which has become an enormously influential work of art, necessary to understand the work of these two masters of surrealist art.

Conceived as a series of scenes without an apparent order, the film has no explicit plot and instead it follows a dream logic where the "dreams" share only actors, characters, themes or motifs, without being explicitly "connected". This logic (or lack of logic) makes the film very much akin to Freudian free association, as while there is no apparent link between the scenes, a subliminal bond exists between them, making "Un Chien Andalou" an visual experiment that expresses the dreams that its creators had. The surreal scenes include the famous scene where a woman's eye is slit by a razor blade, an androgynous woman poking at a severed hand in the street with her cane and ants emerging from a man's hand. It's definitely a pure and raw form of surrealism that attempts to provoke feelings and emotions with its images rather than with its storytelling. It is not that he film lacks any meaning, but that such meaning is expressed in symbols, not with words. It is because of this domain of image and symbology over any traditional plotline that "Un Chien Andalou" has been labeled as a precursor of modern music videos.

Due to its nature, the film depends on the visual impact of its images, and Buñuel manages to make the most of his resources giving the scenes a haunting beauty and a powerful impact to its meaning. It was not only a surrealist statement, "Un Chien Andalou" was also Buñuel's experimenting with film and learning a lot in the process. Cinematographer Albert Duverger, whom first met Buñuel on Epstein's film "Mauprat", employs a quite dynamic technique for its time; and with clever use of lighting, creates an unsettling atmosphere that conveys that aura of mystery and fantasy that exists in dreams. Following the film's dream logic, one could say that Duverger and Buñuel achieve to make the movie flow from dream to nightmare and viceversa. Rich in symbols (that may or may no thave any real meaning) and full of haunting images, "Un Chien Andalou" is certainly one of the movies in which the visuals carry the sense of story in its most extreme form. While unsettling at times and definitely aggressive, the movie is a joy to watch even when the experience is more akin to watch moving canvas rather than a movie the way we are used to it.

The film is hard to understand, and ambiguous enough to the point that probably only Buñuel and Dalí knew exactly what it was supposed to mean. However, that's probably the point of it, to create emotions rather than to simply transmit them. As he states in his autobiography ("My Last Sigh", 1983), the film was made with the intentions that "no idea or image that might lend itself to a rational explanation of any kind would be accepted". In the way that Dalí made his paints, Buñuel crafted his entrance to the artform that would become his life. While one could nitpick the production values of the film (or the acting, which at times is a bit awkward), the whole artistic meaning of "Un Chien Andalou" minimize those problems to the point of making them irrelevant. The whole dreamlike imagery that Buñuel and Dalí have created in this short film trascended the normal way of storytelling, and finished to create the surrealist cinema. It's not a movie easy to like, but it's certainly one impossible to forget,

"Un Chien Andalou" is definitely one of Buñuel's most important films, not only viewing it globally, as a landmark of the surrealist movement; but also on a personal way, as the many things Buñuel himself learned during the process of making it had an enormous influence over his career. While both Buñuel and Dalí feared a bad response from the public, "Un Chien Andlou" became quite popular, and became the beginning of Buñuel's promising career (a career that was unfortunately put temporarily on stand by because of the Spanish Civil War). Original, thought-provoking and enormosuly ambiguous, this short film is a must-see not only for Buñuel fans, but also for everyone interested in film as an art form.

9/10

Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922)

One of the most fascinating creatures of folklore, vampires have had a constant presence in horror legends and stories through centuries. The enormous success of British author Bram Stoker's 1897 novel "Dracula" shaped the myths into one iconic figure that became the classic image of the immortal monster. The following century saw the vampire storming the new medium, cinema, becoming a popular subject in practically every decade in cinema's history. And it all began in 1921, when producers Enrico Dieckmann and Albin Grau got together in order to develop an idea Grau had been imagining since World War I: a vampire film. To achieve this dream, the producers hired famed scriptwriter Henrik Galeen to adapt Stoker's Gothic novel into a screenplay. However, Dieckmann and Grau were unable to get the rights for the novel, so Galeen reworked the story and set it in a fictional German town. Count Dracula became Count Orlok, and with director F. W. Murnau at the helm, "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" (translated as "Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror") was unleashed.

"Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" begins in a German city called Wisborg, where young Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) is an employee at a real state firm. Hutter is sent to Transilvania to visit the enigmatic aristocrat Count Orlok (Max Schreck), who wants to purchase a house in Wisborg and move to Germany. As he gets closer to Orlok's castle, he discovers that the locals are terrified by the mysterious Count, to the point that his driver refuses to take him into the Count's lands. A strange coach is sent by Orlok to pick Hutter, and so the young man finally meets his strange client. At the castle, Hutter only sees the eccentric Orlok by night, and he never sees the Count eating anything, so he begins to suspect that the Count is really the monster known as Nosferatu. One night Orlok admires a portrait of Hutter's wife, Ellen (Greta Schröder) and becomes fascinated with her. After revealing his true nature to Hutter, Nosferatu hurries his trip to Wisborg and takes his reign of terror to Germany.

Already known as a master of dark fantasy (having worked in early expressionist horror films such as "Der Student von Prag" and "Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam"), writer Henrik Galeen adapts Stoker's classic novel with great talent and literally makes it his own tale. Leaving out the typical Victorian focus on morality of the source (including the vampire hunter Van Helsing), Galeen enhances the Gothic romanticism of the novel by making the story not a fight between the more abstract concepts of good and evil, but an idealized duel between purity and corruption. Corruption is a central theme in the film, with Orlok, the Nosferatu, being not only the plague-bearer whose arrival to Wisborg brings death and disease with him, but also the evil corrupter who plans the destruction of the Hutters' happiness. Stylish, but imbued with a fluid rhythm (inherited perhaps, from the source novel), Galeen's storyline is very agile and dynamic; unfolding itself with an almost poetic pace that makes the story, as its title suggest, a real symphony of horror.

With films such as 1920's "Der Januskopf" ("The Head of Janus") and 1921's "Schloß Vogelöd" ("The Haunted Castle") in his young career, director F. W. Murnau was no stranger to supernatural themes such as those in Galeen's screenplay. Nevertheless, "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" would become one of Murnau's most important films, as along cinematographer Fritz Arno Wagner and producer Albin Grau (who worked as Art director), Murnau developed a very stylish and unique visual look for his vampire film. While essentially an expressionist film, Murnau made choices that were different than the norm, like for example the use of real locations for the movie. This adds a very natural atmosphere that contrasts powerfully with the more expressionist details of the film, such as Nosferatu's striking appearance. This contrast works perfectly with the idea of corruption that's central to the screenplay, as the natural village gets consumed by the extremely stylish nightmare that Nosferatu represents.

In the iconic role of Count Orlok, German actor Max Schreck created one of the most fascinating figures in the history of horror. Thanks to the striking expressionist makeup and his subtle, yet stylish performance, Schreck gives life to a very unique vampire. Animalistic and predatory, his Nosferatu is a real creature of the night, embodying perfectly the idea of horror as both repulsive and captivating at the same time. Trained in theater, Schreck bases his work mainly in body language, creating a nightmarish figure that moves through the screen as if one of the expressionist shadows was alive, filling the screen with a haunting atmosphere when he appears on screen. As Ellen Hutter, Greta Schröder is remarkably good, being almost ethereal in her scenes and the perfect opposite image to Nosferatu's fierce figure. As Knock (equivalent to the novel's Renfield), Alexander Granach steals every scene he is in, as his overacting suits nicely the character he plays. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about Gustav von Wangenheim, whose hammy work is one of the films' downsides.

Filled with unforgettable, haunting images courtesy of cinematographer Fritz Arno Wagner, "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" still stands today not only as a great horror film, but as a marvelous artistic achievement in general. Murnau's heavily atmospheric mix of harsh realism and nightmarish fantasy truly set the standards for Gothic horror, and almost singlehandedly defined the vampire concept in films. Granted, the technological limits of its time are visible, but the fact is that, more than 80 years after its release, the amazing way Galeen, Murnau, Schreck and everyone involved in the production gave life to Stoker's novel in such a powerful and emotional film is truly a monumental work. Unfortunately, producers Enrico Dieckmann and Albin Grau failed to secure the rights to the novel, and the Stoker's state launched a lawsuit against their company, Prana films, forcing them into bankruptcy and forcing them to destroy every copy. "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" was almost lost, but to our good fortune, copies survived in other countries.

Powerful, striking, fascinating, thrilling and in a word, supernatural, "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" went on to became a classic of the horror genre and a movie that has influenced influenced generations of filmmakers for decades. After "Nosferatu", Murnau went on to become one of the most important filmmakers in the world, moving from expressionism to a wide range of artistic styles, finally emigrating to America to direct several masterpieces before the arrival of sound. A legendary film by a legendary filmmaker, what Murnau and his crew achieved in "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" is simply what cinema is supposed to be: magic.

9/10
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Oliver Twist (1922)

When cinema was growing and developing itself as a new storytelling art beyond documentaries or vaudeville acts, classic novels were brought as source for stories in the way of theater. As one of the most popular English novelists, Charles Dickens was one of the very firsts to have his works adapted to cinema. His second novel, "The Adventures of Oliver Twist", became the first of his writings to be adapted to the screen in 1897. Titled "Death of Nancy Sykes", it was nothing more than a filmed sketch of a theatrical representation of said scene, but it was only the beginning of "Oliver Twist"'s career on cinema. More than 10 versions of "Oliver Twist" were done in the silent era, many of them sadly lost, but fortunately, one of the most interesting ones still survives to our days: Frank Lloyd's 1922 adaptation titled simply, "Oliver Twist". What makes this movie interesting, is it's remarkable cast, which includes George Siegmann, child actor Jackie Coogan as Oliver, and the legendary "Man of a Thousand Faces", Lon Chaney, as Fagin.

Near his ninth birthday, a small orphan boy named Oliver Twist (Jackie Coogan) is brought to a workhouse under the terms of the Poor Law. There, the hungry Oliver survives with little food, until the boys decide to ask for more. Oliver is the one chosen to do this, but his request is met with an uproar, and it is decided that Oliver should leave the workhouse and become an apprentice for someone else. Mr. Sowerberry (Nelson McDowell), an undertaker, takes him and for a while everything seems to get better for Oliver, but due to the jealousy of Mr. Sowerberry's other apprentice, Noah (Lewis Sargent), Oliver finds himself once again alone and on the road to London. It is on his way to the big city where Oliver meets Jack Dawkins, better known as The Artful Dodger (Edouard Trebaol), a young pickpocket who takes Oliver to meet his "benefactor", an old Jewish man named Fagin (Lon Chaney). But Fagi is not a "good old gentleman", as he actually organizes a gang of juvenile delinquents. Under Fagin's wing, Oliver will discover life in London's streets.

Adapted to screen by Harry Weil and director Frank Lloyd himself, this version of "Oliver Twist" is generally faithful to Dickens' novel, including some subplots that posterior adaptations of the novel would ignore. Technically a condensed version of the book, the screenplay is completely focused on the character of Oliver Twist, which is certainly to be expected, but the problem is that unfortunately this leaves little room for development of the rest of the characters. This is probably because this "Oliver Twist" was conceived as Jackie Coogan vehicle with the idea of repeating the success of Chaplin's "The Kid" in mind. In many ways, Coogan's "Twist" is written as a retreat of his character in the Kid, designed to showcase Coogan's great talents and to make Oliver Twist a boy as cute and lovable as was the Kid. This results in a version of "The Adventures of Oliver Twist" that puts more emphasis on sweetness and tenderness, but a sweetness of the Hollywood kind, a tad artificial and far from the novel's natural sweetness found in the grim streets of London.

While the screenplay tends to downplay Victorian London's darkness and its impact in the story, director Frank Lloyd's makes sure of remember it for us thanks to the great work of cinematography done by Glen MacWilliams and Robert Martin. Lloyd creates a very atmospheric view of London, one that truly captures Dickens' urban world in all its grim splendor despite moving a bit from realism to a more stylish visual design with certain nods to German expressionism. Known for his great care for details, Lloyd makes great use of Dickens' symbolism through the film, and follows the novel's concern for the great problems faced by the lowest social classes (which in the 20s were still similar to an extent); also, taking advantage of a screenplay that focuses on Oliver's sweetness and nobility of heart, Frank Lloyd creates set pieces of great emotional power. Lloyd showcases his great hand at directing actors as he bring the best out of his cast, not only Coogan and Chaney, but particularly Gladys Brockwell, who plays Nancy.

Child actor Jackie Coogan is pretty much at the top of his game as the title role in "Oliver Twist", although the script basically demands him to do a somewhat diluted version of his character in "The Kid". Despite this, Coogan was really a prodigy of acting, and while he showcases many of the same tricks he employed in Chaplin's film, his talent manages to flourish at times and makes quite a convincing Oliver Twist. Nevertheless, the gem of the film is watching Lon Chaney as Fagin, where he delivers once again a magnificent performance as the leader of the juvenile criminal gang. It is sad that the script gives him little to do, because as Fagin, Lon Chaney is quite an impressive figure. Almost as impressive is George Siegmann's Bill Sikes, whom really complements Chaney as the story's ruthless and tough villain. As written above, Gladys Brockwell is the film's great surprise, as her performance as Nancy is truthfully moving and remarkably powerful. Her untimely death in 1929 is truly a tragedy.

Despite being a film done as a vehicle for Jackie Coogan, Frank Lloyd's version of Dickens' "Oliver Twist" is quite an interesting film for a number of reasons. Certainly, it's cast is the most obvious reason to watch it, but also Lloyd's use of cinematography and art direction is quite an achievement. But still, a couple of things stop this film from being "the definitive version" of Dickens' famous novel, the first of them being exactly one of the movie's main selling points: Jackie Coogan. It is not that Coogan is a bad actor (in my humble opinion, he's probably the best Oliver Twist ever after, tied with John Howard Davies of course), but his enormous fame played a major role in making the film essentially about Coogan, and not about Twist. What I mean is that the rest of the characters have not much to do, being overshadowed by the weight given to Coogan's role. Another problem is that the film tends to drag a bit, not only because of the scenes done to showcase Coogan, but also because of the writer's decision of including as much of the novel as they could.

Frank Lloyd's 1922 adaptation of "The Adventures of Oliver Twist" may not be "The definitive version" of the cherished novel (that may still be David Lean's 1948 version), but it's still one of the best done and most interesting of them. Granted, it really doesn't achieve the huge potential it has (one could only wonder how much could some tuning on the script may have helped it), but director Lloyd manages to create a film that's true to Dickens' spirit while at the same time being a product designed to sell Coogan's image one more time. It may not be the most impressive film of the silent era, but for the joy of watching Coogan and Chaney, this "Oliver Twist" is certainly a winner.

7/10
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Der Sudent Von Prag (1926)

Without the shadow of a doubt, the German expressionism was one of most important artistic movements of the twentieth century, specially for cinema, as it was on the rising film industry where it left its deeper impact. With its stylish art direction and highly atmospheric cinematography, German expressionism revolutionized cinema in many ways, thanks to the work of very talented people like Fritz Lang, F.W. Murnau, Karl Freund and Hermann Warmand. Right at the center of the movement was Czech actor and director Henrik Galeen, whom after directing (along Paul Wegener) one of the movement's earlier examples ("Der Golem" in 1915), dedicated most of his career to the writing of screenplays for several of its greater glories (Murnau's "Nosferatu, Eine Symphonie Des Grauens" for example). In 1926, Galeen returned to directing, recruiting several famous names (Günther Krampf and the aforementioned Warmand, among others) in order to remake Paul Wegener's first movie: 1913's "Der Student Von Prag".

In "Der Student Von Prag" ("The Student of Prague"), Conrad Veidt plays Balduin, a young student always troubled by his constant lack of money (which he thinks prevents him from fulfilling his big ambitions), but who has built himself a reputation as the best fencer in all Prague. One day he comes across an odd man who calls himself Scapinelli (Werner Krauss), who finds out about his ambitions of wealth and love. But Scapinelli isn't a normal man, so while Balduin and other students are spending the time at the countryside, Scapinelli uses his powers to make Countess Margit's (Agnes Esterhazy) horse to go crazy. Balduin notices the danger and saves the Countess, falling in love with her in the process. Unfortunately, she is going to marry her cousin, Baron Waldis-Schwarzenberg (Ferdinand Von Alten), so Balduin really doesn't have a chance against him. It is at this moment when Scapinelli reappears, and promises Balduin infinite wealth and the Countess' heart. But everything comes with a price.

The original film was written by Hanns Heinz Ewers as a horror version of Edgar Allan Poe's short story "William Wilson" with the addition of a certain Faustian touch. Written by director Galeen himself, this remake follows very closely the original storyline, but adds a lot more of character development, something that was sorely missed in the original (technology and budget weren't on the filmmakers' side, so the original's runtime was extremely short) and that's truly an improvement over it. This addition makes the story a lot more compelling, as Galeen takes time not only to explore the horrible consequences of Balduin's pact with Scapinelli and the loss of his reflection in the mirror, but also his personal decadence and paradoxical loneliness as wealthy man, and how this sudden change of luck doesn't bring the happiness he expected and begins to transform the ambitious young fencer. It probably sounds clichéd and overtly moralist now, but Galeen handles his topic with a great elegance akin to Gothic horror.

One of the most remarkable things about the 1926 version of "Der Student Von Prag" is definitely the cinematography by Günther Krampf (and an uncredited Erich Nitzschmann), which possess a haunting beauty that suits perfectly the melancholic, tragic mood the story has. Directoy Galeen gives great use to the cinematographer's work, creating a very dynamic film that moves away from the usual staginess of silent films thanks to his excellent camera-work and the fluid pace in which the story unfolds. While less stylish (and a lot more naturalistic) than the most representative films of German expressionism, Galeen's movie still follows many of the conventions of the movement, and in fact uses it to showcase the changes in Balduin's life: the warm, yet melancholic scenes of nature for Balduin's previous life in contrast with the cold and oppressive designs of his house when he becomes wealthy. Despite being less visually striking than other German films from the same period, Galeen and Krampf give it a style of its own.

One of the most interesting things in "Der Student Von Prag" is to see reunited the two main stars of 1920's "Das Cabinet Des Dr. Caligari": Conrad Veidt and Werner Krauss. Veidt is definitely the highlight of the film, as his performance as the taciturn Balduin is excellent and an example of perfect casting. He truly transmits the melancholy and bitterness of the young fencer blinded by ambition, and in a couple of scenes he also showcases nice skills at fencing (though it's true that editing helps him a lot). As the mysterious Scapinelli, Werner Krauss is quite effective, although perhaps a bit hammy. Still, this isn't really a bad thing, since he relays mainly on his powerful screen presence to portray the maleficent sorcerer. Romanian actress Elizza La Porta is a nice surprise (it was apparently her first film), as her performance is quite fresh and adds a light touch to the dark melodrama. Agnes Esterhazy isn't as lucky, although while probably mediocre, her performance isn't that bad.

Since the first version of "Der Student Von Prag" has the historical importance of being not only a prototype of German Expressionism, but also one of Germany's first horror films and Paul Wegener's debut as a director, it tends to easily overshadow its more polished remake, something that I consider a bit unfair, as in my personal opinion, I consider it the superior version of the two. As written above, it's the cinematography what sets the film apart, as it features several great scenes that demonstrate that Galeen and crew had a very good understanding of the possibilities of cinema. One of those scenes is when Scapinelli uses his powers to drive the horses crazy, as using Krampf's cinematography and editing to enhance Krauss' performance, Galeen creates a quite poetic and macabre moment of great suspense and strange beauty. Unfortunately, the film is not without its problems, the main of those being that the film has several scenes where the fast pace suddenly stops and the story begins to drag a bit.

Overshadowed by its historically important predecessor and by the fact that Murnau's fantastic "Faust - Eine Deutsche Volkssage" was released the same year, Henrik Galeen's version of "Der Student Von Prag" is definitely a forgotten gem of silent German cinema that definitely deserves a lot more of attention as another of those highly influential films that paved the way for modern horror in the sound era. It's probably not the most representative of the movies of the German Expressionist movement, but it's cast and crew alone make it essential viewing for anyone interested in that period in the history of cinema. While probably not the masterpiece it could had been, "Der Student Von Prag"'s haunting beauty is impossible to forget.

8/10
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The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)

"Notre-Dame De Paris", known in English as "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", is definitely one of the most popular French novels of all time. Written by Victor Hugo, this Gothic tragedy explores many of his favorite themes, including social injustices and romantic idealism. However, the element that is nowadays the most famous trait of the novel, is without a doubt the character of Quasimodo, and the mistreatment he suffers due to his horrible deformities. While Hugo didn't intend this to be the main theme of the novel, the enormous appealing of Quasimodo quickly turned him into the iconic representation of good nature under a monstrous face, and so it is not a surprise that this is also the angle taken by the film adaptations of the novel. In this the first movie version of the immortal novel, the classic role of Quasimodo is performed in film for the first time by another legend, "The Man of a Thousand Faces", Lon Chaney Sr.

Set in the 15th Century, the movie starts as just another day in the simple life of Quasimodo (Lon Chaney), the bell-ringer of the famous Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris who has spend most of his life inside the Cathedral because most people fear his gruesome deformity. Under the care of archdeacon Claude Frollo (Nigel De Brulier), Quasimodo has lived a good, albeit lonely life; however, this is about to change when the archdeacon's brother Jehad (Brandon Hurst), orders Quasimodo to help him to kidnap a young gypsy girl named Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller) that he wants for himself. Jehad's plan fails as Phoebus (Norman Kerry), Captain of the Guards, rescues Esmeralda and takes Quasimodo to prison, however, this will be only the beginning of the tragedy that will unfold under the shadow of the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

Adapted by Edward T. Lowe Jr. and Perley Poore Sheehan, the story is really a good adaptation that remains true to the novel's themes of human tragedy despite the fact that the story was significantly simplified. While the focus is certainly on Quasimodo (and he is indeed made a more prominent and sympathetic figure), the screenplay remains an epic tragedy about life and death in Paris, and takes its time to introduce and develop every character, surprisingly including many of the novel's subplots that became forgotten in subsequent versions of the story. The story unfolds nicely and with a good pace, slowly introducing us to the universe of this characters and carefully setting the basis for the climatic finale of the tragedy. Interestingly, despite the changes done to the story, the movie keeps the dark depressing tone of Hugo's Gothic classic.

Wallace Worsley may not be a director known for his personal style (the fact that most of his work is lost doesn't help), but he takes on this monumental project with courage and makes this epic tale work nicely. While Worsley was not the first choice to direct the movie, he already had directed Chaney in four movies before this one (including the classic "The Penalty"), so being already familiar with Chaney's method of work, Worsley could let him do his thing while he focused on the difficult organization of the complex project. With a cast of thousands and enormous sets, Worsley makes 15th Century Paris to come alive once again and, just like Victor Hugo would wanted, the Cathedral of Notre Dame is made another character of the story thanks to the beautiful cinematography that gives an ominous atmosphere to the building.

Lon Chaney is without a doubt the star and highlight of the movie, delivering one of the best performances as Quasimodo (second only to Charles Laughton), and creating one of his most amazing works of make-up. Proving why he is called "The Man of a Thousand Faces", Chaney makes a gruesome, yet very expressive "monster" that truly conveys the nature of the almost silent character. Patsy Ruth Miller is very effective as Esmeralda, and nicely avoids exaggerated gestures in her dramatic scenes; something that sadly can't be said about Norman Kerry as Phoebus, although being fair, his character is not as developed as the rest. Brandon Hurst is simply amazing, and sometimes even manages to overshadow the enormous Chaney, with a remarkably wicked portrayal of evil in his performance as Jehad. Truly another of the film's highlights.

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame" was Universal's most successful film of 1923, and honestly, it's not hard to tell why. Not only Lon Chaney's magnificent performance as Chaney (as well as his outstanding work of make-up) is a true highlight of the film, the lavish sets built for the movie are definitely one of the most amazing works done in silent films, with the reconstruction of Notre Dame's Western facade being extremely detailed and actually very accurate. One would think that given the attention payed to the technical aspects of the film, the performances of the actors were unimportant, but thankfully this is not the case, as Chaney and company proved to be up to the challenge in this movie. As a side note, among the many assistant directors who helped Worsley in this project, there was a young man named William Wyler receiving his first work in the movie industry.

Depsite its flaws, this first version of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" remains as one of the best movies of the silent era, and one of the best versions of Victor Hugo's classic. It's probably a bit dated by now, but it still retains the beauty and monumental power of its initial release. Inaugurating the horror genre for Universal Films, this epic tragedy proudly ranks as a classic of the genre and of cinema in general.

8/10

Buy "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame" (1923) - Remastered Edition

Watch "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame" (1923) - Public domain edition

Bronenosets Potyomkin (1925)

Very few people in the history of the cinema have left an imprint as deep as Sergei M. Eisenstein, Russian director and film theorist whose ideas about montage changed film editing (and film-making itself) forever. As one of the first to discover the potential of the artistic manipulation of film in order to transmit emotions, Eisenstein transformed film editing from simple chronological cuts to a more expressive language. His third movie, "Bronenosets Potyomkin" ("Battleship Potemkin" in English), is definitely his most famous work and the flagship of the montage theory, as it was in this movie where he was able to fully explore the ideas he had developed initially in "Stachka" ("Strike), his first feature. Many has been written about "Battleship Potemkin", and not without a reason, as this movie lives up to its status of classic like no other.

"Battleship Potemkin" is the dramatization of a real life story, the uprising of the Potemkin's crew against their officers in June 1905. The story begins when in the Potemkin, sailor Grigory Vakulinchuk (Aleksandr Antonov) and his mates discover that the meat destined for their consumption is rotten and filled with maggots. The sailors protest, but the officers state that the meat is in fact in good conditions and that the sailors will have to eat it. These statements increase the rage of the sailors, who that night refuse to eat the rotten meat, defying their superiors in a blatant display of protest. The next day, the Potemkin's officers decide to execute those who defied their orders, and it's at that moment when sailor Vakulinchuk decides to call for a rebellion. The consequences of the Battleship Potemkin uprising will be enormous, and the first place that feels them is the small city of Odessa.

While the movie was co-written by Eisenstein and three of his collaborators, "Battleship Potemkin" is completely Eisenstein's brainchild, as he devised the movie as an experiment about the effects of his editing technique on the audience. The desired effect was that the audience felt completely identified with the revolutionaries and their cause, while at the same time had feelings of antipathy and rejection to the czar's army, arguably the film's "villians". While this may sound like a very simplistic approach to the story, it is really the perfect devise to Eisenstein's highly visual style of film-making, as what matters in the film are not the characters, but the events happening. Despite being a fictional account of the real life event, Eisenstein's script captures the spirit of the uprising and the ideologies behind it (after all, it was conceived as revolutionary propaganda) in a quite powerful way.

Obviously, Eisenstein's direction is the true star of the movie, as he shows his mastery, not only of montage, but also of cinematography (by Eduard Tisse and Vladimir Popov) and overall visual composition, which give the movie a nearly poetic majesty. It is often said that movies with good narrative should be able to tell its story without sound, and "Battleship Potemkin" proves that statement true with its near perfect visual storytelling that without problems (and with very few inter-titles) transmits its message to the audience. Another interesting trait of the film is how despite the manipulative montage, it feels incredibly realistic, almost as if it was a documentary on the subject. The now legendary Odessa Steps sequence, a monumental achievement in film-making, is done in a tremendously realistic fashion that, as critic Roger Ebert points out, "is often referred to as if it really happened".

To achieve this atmosphere of realism, Eisenstein often used untrained people (and even members of his crew) to play basically themselves in his movies, and "Potemkin" is not an exception, as to most of the actors on screen this meant their only participation in movies. A notable exception is the man playing the movie's most important role, Aleksandr Antonov, who plays rebel sailor Vakulinchuk. Antonov had his debut in Eisenstein's first movie Dnevnik Glumova, and went on to have a relatively prolific career during the following decades. As Vakulinchuk, his performance is quite powerful and very natural, capturing with ease the traits of the legendary rebel and transforming him into a myth. On a side note, directors Vladimir Barsky and Grigori Aleksandrov (Eisenstein's close collaborator) appear in the movie in the roles of the battleship's evil officers.

More than 80 years after its initial release, one can still say that Eisenstein's experiment was an enormous improvement in film editing techniques, and more than that, it was probably the final step to complete the transformation of film into an art form. While the use of film editing to create emotions was of course done with the purpose of using the films as revolutionary propaganda, the use of images and symbolism to create emotions in the audience is hardly objectionable and one could say that it was even necessary for movie to be the expressive art form that is today. Due to all those reasons, "Battleship Potemkin" is without a doubt one of the most important movies ever made, and one that even today manage to bring great emotions from its audiences, as its universal message of freedom is certainly more powerful than any political ideology.

An obligatory entry in almost every book on the history of cinema, "Battleship Potemkin" is a movie that even today, more than 80 years after its conception, keeps being not only a thrilling an entertaining story, but also as fresh and influential as when it was originally released. Some would accuse it of being manipulative propaganda, and while they are probably right, in the end, what film is not manipulative?

10/10
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Watch "Bronenosets Potyomkin" (1925) - Unrestored

Körkarlen (1921)

In the early days of film-making, cinema of Sweden rose to prominence thanks to the works of two pioneers of the silent film industry: Mauritz Stiller and Victor Sjöström, both highly influential directors and technically, the fathers of Swedish cinema. Of the two, Sjöström is probably the better remembered nowadays, as he also made a career as an actor, giving a powerful final performance at age 78 in Ingmar Bergman's 1957 masterpiece, "Smultronstället" ("Wild Strawberries"). But this wouldn't be the only link between the two Swedish masters, as in fact, Sjöström's influence over Bergman's work can be found in many of Bergman's movies. This film, 1921's "Körkarlen" (known in English as "The Phantom Carriage"), is no exception, as this dark drama would prove to be highly influential to many of Bergman's masterpieces, including "Det Sjunde Inseglet" ("The Seventh Seal").

"Körkarlen" is the story of David Holm, a completely irresponsible drunkard who has spent his life living only to drink. On New Year's Eve, Holm is as usual, drinking with his friends, and it is during their celebration that one of them tells an old legend: that the last person to die in the year, if he or she has been a big sinner, will become the driver of the Phantom Carriage, the legendary chariot in which Death picks up the souls of the dead. In a twist of fate, Holm ends up being killed after a violent discussion right at the last minute of the year, and since he has spent his life inflicting pain to his friends and family, the Phantom Carriage will come for him. This ghastly revelation will make Holm to remember his life, which was always filled with wrath, hate and perversion, in order to find a way to escape his fate and save his soul.

Based on the 1912 novel of the same name by Selma Lagerlöf, the screenplay was written by Sjöström himself, making "Körkarlen" the fourth movie he adapted from a story by Lagerlöf. What's interesting about "Körkarlen" is that Sjöström develops the plot using a series of flashbacks in a style that wasn't very common in those days, moving back and forth from present to past, as the complex personality of David Holm unfolds and the reasons behind his damnation are revealed. Sjöström's innovative narrative structure in "Körkarlen" is complex, but not difficult to follow, and works perfectly with the plot's mix of dark fantasy and harsh realism. Having not read it, I'm not sure how faithful is this to Lagerlöf's novel, but the mixture of the fantastic elements with the hopeless realism of Holm's corruption is one of the most attractive and successful elements in the film.

Probably the scenes that most capture the attention at first sight in "The Phantom Carriage" are the ones with the Carriage itself, as director Victor Sjöström and cinematographer Julius Jaenzon create several haunting special effects using trick photography with a care and a style rarely seen in these kind of effects. However, there's more in "Körkarlen" than ghastly special effects, as Sjöström gives an excellent use to Jaenzon's photography to create a dark, melancholic atmosphere of despair using light and shadows in a subtle way. This is best appreciated when watching the film in its tinted version, although even in simple black and white the results are amazing. Now, Sjöström really knew how to bring the best out of his cast (he started as an actor, so that may be the reason), and this movie is no exception, as the acting is one of the strongest points in "Körkarlen".

It could be said that "Körkarlen" is all about Victor Sjöström, as he not only directs it, he also plays David Holm himself and is quite remarkable at doing it. As the incorrigible drunkard on the path to damnation, Sjöström delivers a very powerful performance and is often quite realistic in the drunk insanity of his character. One could think that Sjöström overshadows the rest of the cast, but Astrid Holm, who plays Sister Edit, is equally as good. Her character is essentially the David Holm's counterpart, and the person who tries to save his soul. As Holm's wife, Hilda Borgström offers a performance filled with many powerfully emotional scenes, and she is quite effective at them, although her character has considerably less screen time than Sjöström and Astrid Holm. Finally, Tore Svennberg is indeed very creepy as the Carriage's current driver.

"Körkarlen" is a movie filled with a very haunting beauty of almost supernatural origin. The way this drama mixes the horrors of the supernatural world with those of the real world (which seem more horrific) makes it a powerful movie even today, and Sjöström's style still feels quite fresh and modern, considering that the film is more than 80 years old. If there is a flaw in this near perfect masterpiece, I would say that it's its tendency to be excessively preachy towards the end. Sjöström was prone to make his movies with severe moralistic undertones, and in "Körkarlen" this is glaringly obvious. I won't go as far as some critics who call it "a Salvation Army propaganda film", but I must say that it's noticeable, although not really annoying. Nevertheless, "Körkarlen"'s beauty transcends this apparent lack of subtlety and like Wilder's "The Lost Weekend", is a powerful tale about the demons of alcohol.

One could say that "Körkarlen" makes the perfect companion piece to Bergman's two legendary masterpieces of the 50s, as not only it is it's artistic predecessor, it shares the fascination with death and what comes after it. With its very poetic images and the notably inventive way its narrative is built, "Körkarlen" is in my opinion, one of the most beautiful films of the silent era. One final thing, Bergman's intimate relationship with this film can also be noted in one of his last films, "Bildmakarna", a film about the making of "Körkarlen". A highly influential masterpiece indeed.

9/10
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The Skeleton Dance (1929)

It was in 1928 when sound entered the realm of motion pictures and with it a new age arrived to the young medium and the conventions of an art form were changed forever. This new technology, that allowed movies to be able to have their own musical score independent of the theater's orchestra, entered the mind of a young film director and animator named Walt Disney, who had been producing short animated films with the help of the brilliant cartoonist Ub Iwerks. Disney decided to take advantage of the novelty of sound and create a series of short musical animations to distribute along their Mickey Mouse cartoons (which also began to be produced with sound), in which they would be able to experiment with new techniques, characters and ideas. He named the series, "Silly Symphonies", and the very first one of them, 1929's "The Skeleton Dance", would revolutionize animation forever.

In "The Skeleton Dance", the action is set on an abandoned graveyard during a windy night under the full moon. It is the perfect night for the creatures of the night, and so the bats fly from the belfry, the spiders go out for a walk, and an owl watches scared the action that's about to begin: the dead rise from their graves, and they are ready to dance. A skeleton comes out first, scaring a couple of cats who were fighting, and then he calls his friends, other skeletons who are willing to play some music and celebrate. Using their bones as musical instruments, the Skeletons play a haunting tune, dance to the music, and even dance Ring Around the Rosie, having fun until the moon hides and the new day begins, because as soon as the rooster appears to announce that it's morning, the Skeletons must return to their graves, and prepare themselves for the next time.

Created by Ub Iwerks and Walt Disney, "The Skeleton Dance" is, as its tag-line says, a talking picture novelty in which audiences where able to witness a good song accompanied by an animated film, pretty much similar to what we now know as a musical video. What makes the movie amazing is the way it perfectly mixes the horror atmosphere of its setting with the whimsical comedy that made Walt Disney Productions' short films so popular with the audiences. Skulls, bats, cats and spiders make an apparition in the movie, in what could be the perfect scenario for a horror film, but this time the skeletons only want to have fun. Carl W. Stalling, composer of the film's song (and another influential figure in the history of animation), creates in "The Skeleton Dance" one of the best Disney tunes ever, perfectly putting in his music that mix of horror and humor that the short film embodies.

Ub Iwerks' art shines through the film, and Disney makes sure to take the most advantage of his friend's talent. As written above, they saw the "Silly Symphonies" as a way to experiment, and "The Skeleton Dance" showcases Iwerks and his team making a highly dynamic film, as well as creating pretty impressive sequences where perspective is put to great use. It's also very imaginative the many things they do with their skeletons, specially when they made them use the things found in the cemetery as musical instruments (including cats, and later, their own bones). The choreography of the Skeleton dance is very funny, and one gets the feeling that this group of young animators were truly having fun when making this little film. In many ways, "The Skeleton Dance" was way ahead of its time, and includes elements that years later would be part of the horror genre.

Among Disney's early films, "The Skeleton Dance" is one of enormous importance, as thanks to its big success Disney was able to produce more cartoons of his established characters. It also produced many imitators (WB's "Merry Melodies" and MGM's "Happy Harmonies" being the best of them) and a completely new style of short animations. Sadly, the friendship between Disney and Iwerks would be broken and Iwerks abandoned Disney in 1930 to open his own studio and later to work at Columbia Pictures (where in 1937 he remade "The Skeleton Dance" in color, under the name of "Skeleton Frolics"). While he never found the same success he had with Disney, Ub Iwerks' work proved to be among the most influential in the history of animation, becoming the teacher of other masters like Chuck Jones, and even now, animators today study the magic of Ub Iwerks and his dancing skeletons.

10/10



Buy "The Skeleton Dance (1929) and more of Disney's early shorts

The Bat (1926)

While less remembered nowadays than Agatha Christie, American writer Mary Roberts Rinehart was as influential in the genre of crime fiction as her British colleague, as she originated many of the core elements of murder mystery stories in her writing (the phrase "The butler did it", comes from her work). In 1917 she joined popular playwright Avery Hopwood in order to write "The Bat", a stage adaptation of her novel, "The Circular Staircase", but instead of making a straight version of the novel, they added new twists and turns to the plot, including the presence of a masked criminal named "The Bat", who would make the mystery a bit more complex for Reinhart's popular character, Miss Cornelia Van Gorder. The play was a huge hit, and it fascinated director Roland West, an avid fan of mystery plays who six years later would adapt it to film.

In the film, Miss Cornelia Van Gorder (Emily Fitzroy) and her niece Dale (Jewel Carmen) rent an old mansion that belongs to the wealthy owner of a bank. However, their tranquility is disturbed when they discover that the bank has been robbed by the master thief known as The Bat (due to his elaborate costume), the owner is now dead, and he left the rest of his fortune in cash hidden in the mansion they are renting. Now Van Gorder and her niece will be the new victims of The Bat, who wants to get the full loot and will do whatever it's necessary to get them out of the house, alive or dead. To make things worse, Dale's fiancée Brooks (Jack Pickford), a clerk at the robbed bank, is the main suspect, so he arrives to the mansion hoping to hide for a while. Fortunately, Detective Anderson (Eddie Gribbon) also arrives to help the women, but the Bat has proved to be an extraordinary foe.

Adapted by director Roland West with the aid of Julien Josephson, "The Bat" follows the play in a relatively faithful way, although since West has no way to represent the play's dialogs on film, he decides to put more emphasis on the horror elements and tell the story in a more visually rich fashion. This is specially notorious in the "first act", where West gives more insight about the Bat's methods by showing him using his skills to commit a robbery early on the film. Still, the movie version keeps those touches that made the source so different to other mystery plays, specially that touch of dark detective fiction that predates the films noir of the following the decades. As usual in this kind of plays, there's also a touch of light comedy (in the shape of the classic cowardly character) that serves to break the suspense and add some fun every now and then.

As an early adaptation of a murder mystery play (like West's other horror film, "The Monster"), "The Bat" is a very influential movie in the horror genre because of its use of the old dark house setting, however, visually it is a very memorable film too. The most striking features of "The Bat" are without a doubt William Cameron Menzies's work as set designer and the cinematography by Arthur Edeson (assisted by a young Gregg Toland, in his first real job), which under West's direction result in a wonderful expressionist nightmare. To create his atmospheric game of light and shadows, West decided to shot the film mostly at night, which is why "The Bat" has that dark stylish look that feels surreal and otherworldly. Interestingly, West's directing of actors is very restrained, as if he intended to tell the story with the cinematography instead of his cast.

While in the novel the character of Miss Cornelia Van Gorder played a more prominent role, here it's Dale and her fiancée Brooks whom are in the spotlight. As Brooks, Jack Pickford (Mary Pickford's scandalous brother) is effective, although nothing really amazing; the same could be said of Jewel Carmen (West's wife at the time), who plays Dale. They aren't bad, but not exactly noteworthy. Quite the contrary is Louise Fazenda, who steals the show as the cowardly maid Lizzie and adds a lot of charm to the film thanks to her over-the-top slapstick comedy. As the witty Miss Cornelia Van Gorder, Emily Fitzroy is pretty good, and certainly embodies the character with a strong presence. Finally, Eddie Gribbon is another of the cast members who give a great performance, possibly the best in the film after Fazenda's.

Despite it's many memorable moments, in the end "The Bat" as a film is damaged badly by its own origin as a play: on stage actors have words, but West can't have that element on film. While West certainly did his best to tell the story without words (and the first act is itself a masterpiece of silent storytelling), the film does feel very stagy, specially in the scenes directly lifted from the play, which result in a film of irregular pace, with some highly dynamic scenes and others that are slow and kind of dull. In my personal opinion, "The Bat" would had been better if West had done a less faithful adaptation, and instead had followed the path he was walking in the first act, which was highly original. For example, Paul Leni's adaptation of "The Cat and the Canary" (another murder mystery play) done the following year takes what West started here to higher levels.

In the end "The Bat" is a highly enjoyable film that, while not really a masterpiece, it is of great interest due to its beautiful cinematography, set design and ultimately charming plot. West would remake this film 4 years later as "The Bat Whispers", now with sound and what he lacked here. And yes, it would be that 1930 horror film the one that would inspire comic book artist Bob Kane to create his very own Batman. A flawed but still good horror movie.

7/10

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The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

Given that it's nowadays regarded as one of the most famous classics of French literature, it's not surprising that Gaston Leroux's Gothic novel, "The Phantom of the Opera", has become the source for many adaptations to film, stage and other art-forms. The immortal story of the deformed musical genius who terrorizes the Opera Garnier while helping a young soprano to become the main singer is definitely now an icon of Gothic literature thanks to its mix of horror, mystery and romance. Producer Carl Laemmle, head of Universal Studios, saw in this combination the potential for a classic movie, and decided to make it the ultimate spectacle. To accomplish that feat, he hired director Rupert Julian (who had just completed "Merry-Go-Round") to helm the movie, and for the main role, he casted none other than the "Man with a Thousand Faces", Lon Chaney.

Set in 1890s Paris, "The Phantom of the Opera" is the story of young soprano Christine Daae (Mary Philbin), who with the help of an unknown tutor, has gone from being part of the chorus to become the understudy of Carlotta (Virginia Pearson), the Prima Donna. On the first night of Opera's new season, Vicomte Raoul De Chagny (Norman Kerry) assists to the show in order to see Christine, whom he loves very much. To Raoul's surprise, Christine tells him that their relationship can't continue as it gets in the way of her career, and that she must follow her tutor's orders in order to become the best singer in Paris. As this happens, strange letters have arrived to the Opera House's new management, demanding that Christine must sing the main role instead of Carlotta. Fear begins to spread among the crew of the Opera House, as it is believed that the Phantom of the Opera is more than just a superstition.

Adapted to the screen by Elliott J. Clawson, Raymond L. Schrock and the usual army of writers that would write and rewrite the many treatments of the script, the 1925 version of "The Phantom of the Opera" is surprisingly one of the most faithful to Leroux's novel. While numerous posterior versions (from Universal's own 1943 remake to the famous musical version) have played mostly on the romance aspect and the tragedy of the title character, the screenplay for this movie remains true to the novel's origins in Gothic literature and keeps the story of the Phantom deeply rooted in the horror and mystery sides of the story. The Phantom is sympathetic, yes, and the love triangle is still present, however, here he is also the complex murderous sociopath who's closer to what Leroux intended him to be. A touch of comedy is added to the script, although never too much to deviate from the atmosphere of the story.

While now is considered a classic movie of the silent era, "The Phantom of the Opera" had an extremely troubled production, with almost five persons attempting to transform the story into a watchable film. Director Rupert Julian created a lavish production, with expressionist influences and atmospheric cinematography; but since he did not got along with Lon Chaney, it was "the Man with a Thousand Faces" who had to deal with the directing of actors. Due to poor reviews, director Edward Sedgwick was assigned to "rebuilt" the film and added the movie's comedy touch. In the end, editor Maurice Pivar saved the day by getting the best from the many different ideas and combining them into one single movie, so it's probably thanks to him that we have a great film in this early American attempt at creating Gothic horror with a slight expressionist touch.

As many have said before, it is ultimately Lon Chaney's performance what makes this version of Leroux's story to be so wonderful and enjoyable. Wonderfully over-the-top, Chaney truly becomes the misunderstood monster he plays with great talent and powerful presence, to the point of overshadowing everyone else in the cast. Still, the beautiful Mary Philbean manages to deliver an effective performance as Christine Daae, portraying the character's naiveté in a very natural and believable way. Sadly, the same can't be said about Norman Kerry, whom as Raoul is definitely the weakest link in the cast. Arthur Edmund Carewe makes a short yet very important appearance as the mysterious Ledoux, and while small, he makes his role a very memorable one. Snitz Edwards is the film's main comic relief, and while annoying at times, he gets the job done.

But there's something even more memorable than Chaney's performance and the amazing art design in "The Phantom of the Opera", and that is the incredible make-up that Lon Chaney himself designed for his character which is probably the best one he ever did in his prolific career. Despite being limited by the technology of his time, Chaney designed with great creativity the now iconic "skull face" of the Phantom, just as monstrous and grotesque as Leroux intended it, proving once and for all why he earned the nickname of "The Man with a Thousand faces". Still, not everything is perfect in this movie, as while editor Maurice Pivar certainly did a wonderful job at the titanic labor of putting everything together, at times the fact that it was made by many different directors can still be felt in the pacing of the film, but still, it's unnoticeable for most part of the film.

This adaptation of "The Phantom of the Opera" is often considered as the best, and while that probably has more to do with the fact that there hasn't been a "definitive version" yet, one can't deny that this classic of the silent era has stood the test of time like few movies in history. Granted, Chaney gave better performances in other movies, but with his terrific make-up and the wonderful art design (which looks awesome in the Technicolor sequences), this version of Leroux's novel is a must-see for every fan of Gothic horror.

9/10

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