There’s the ironic part - it was the eyes that looked sleepy. That’s where I see the lethargy.
Well, I know how it is; first impressions are everything. If that was your first impression, then that would dictate how you’d see pretty much everything that came after. Your time could be less rewardingly spent, however, IMHO, than by giving it another try. Decide beforehand, this time, to see her eyes as expressive of fear and spiritual exhaustion, rather than lethargy. As an exercise.
When I dislike a film that people whose artistic judgment I respect have liked, sometimes I will try it again, with their perspective in mind. Sometimes this allows me to triangulate a more rewarding vantage point; sometimes it just emphasizes the difference between viewers. THere are many, many films that required a second or third viewing for me to see what others saw in them. Needless to say, this is not necessarily an exercise that appeals to many moviegoers; just my own recipe for understanding movies that don’t pop open on the first whack for me, like a Pilsbury biscuit tube.
Hmmm, enjoyable ones available on video? Male and Female (1919), Why Change Your Wife? (1920), Sadie Thompson (1928). I’m actually not a huge fan of the cobbled-together, unfinished Queen Kelly (1929). Von Stroheim had little to do with what was finally released on video decades later.
Oh, I’d buy them as expressing exhaustion, certainly. Fear, not so much. It was just very difficult to see : (shot of angry priest/judges) (shot of Joan looking stoned) (shot of angry priest/judges) (shot of Joan looking stoned) , repeat ad nauseum.
Perhaps it’s my stubborn nature, or maybe it’s my confidence in my own assessments, or both, but I’m usually content to agree to disagree, and move on to other things. I find my time is better spent seeing a film that I haven’t seen before and may like, than rewatching a film I have seen and didn’t care for.
Harold Lloyd’s work is even more impressive when you realize that he had a terribly crippled right hand. A prop bomb blew up in his hand and took with it his right thumb and a couple of other fingers.
. . . but, he did not do all his own stunt work. His stuntman kept mum till after Lloyd died, but in the documentary Hollywood, you can clearly see how many of his “skyscraper” stunts were done and where the stuntman was used.
That being said, I love Harold Lloyd. From everything I’ve heard, he was a really nice fellow, too.
FWIW, that was the parts, more than a sum of which the whole produces. Like film itself: no single frame, or even a handful of frames–or even every single frame in sequence, viewed one at a time, static–can tell a story like a MOTION picture. Joan is a whole too. FWIW.
Coincidentally, the NFT ran exactly this episode on Sunday (paired with the one about westerns) as part of a short Brownlow season. I hadn’t seen it in at least 15 years - and possible not since it was first shown on ITV 25 years ago - but the portion about Harvey Parry being interviewed about how they did the stunts in Safety Last and what he did of them was exactly as I remembered it. A great, great documentary.
I love silent films, especially the fantastic ones. One nice thing about DVDs is that newly restored versions of the silents are now becoming available for the first time, but you have to look for them.
The Lost World – This Willis O’Brien film was horibly abridged after its initial release, and for years only about 2/3 of it was available. Recently, though, a version that’s better than 95% complete has been assembled from seven existing copies, some from Eastern Europe. Absolutely gorgeous. And it features a commntary track by the guy who recently published “The Annotated Lost World”, which makes an excellent companion book.
The Phantom of the Opera – the Criterion two-disc set is superb. It includes the complete 1925 version and the complete 1929 version (with both the Technicolor Bal Masque sequence and another brief color sequence I’d never even heard of fully restored), along with stills from two other versions, soundtracs from the circa 1930 sound release, and trailers for the film that feature sequences not in the films! The restored color sections are ar better than hose I’ve seen in other release versions.
Nosferatu – Something claiming to be the “restored” version is available. It’s pretty good, but I understand that it’s not the best that could be put together. I don’t think they’ve tinted al the sequences correctly. The DVD features a modern-day tour of some of the production sites.
Metropolis – The restored version is now wiely available, and worth it. More complete than the earlier Kino version or Giorgio Moroder’s disco version.
The Thief of Baghdad – I taped this one of PBS’ “Great Performaces” series 17 years ago. It’s restored, with tinting and a new orchestral score (badsed on ERimsky-Korsakoff’s “Scheherazade”, among others). I’ve heard that this version i still missing about 20 minutes or so, though. f so, I don’t know why they cut it. But it’s a joy to behold.
20,000 Leagues Under the SEa – The silent version combines both 20,000 Leagues and The Mysterious Island into one long narrative that’s surprisingly faithful. It features a lot of innovative underwater photography, shot in the same place the Disney folks would later film their version. It’s also the only version that had Nemo as an Indian (something that wouldn’t be seen again until the recent League of Extraordinary Gentlemen)
The General – Buster Keaton’s masterpiece. When I put it on, even my hard-to-please seven year old daughter sat down to watch it, all the way to the end.
FYI, The Phantom Of The Opera isn’t Criterion, it’s Kino IIRC.
As Dex mentioned, Gloria Swanson said “We didn’t need words, we had faces!” This is key to understanding silent film. Words aren’t necessary. Think about how often a drama is ruined by poor delivery. There is a reason for the expression “a picture is worth a thousand words.”
Take Janet Gaynor’s expression as George O’Brien bears down on her in the rowboat in Sunrise. How can any words, any dialogue, anything that was ever scripted manage to do her eyes any justice?
As for La Passion De Jeanne d’Arc, you have to watch it again. Make sure, too, that you kill that ridiculous imitation of a score. No music, no lights, nothing. Concentrate on Falconetti’s eyes. Try to see what is behind her eyes. She is not stoned, she is in a different place. Her experience has put her beyond any realm of human understanding. As Ebert notes in his review:
Or when one of the interrogators asks her who taught her the Lord’s Prayer, and she answers “Ma mere,” as a single tear rolls down her cheek. She is simply beyond anything of human experience.
Take William A. Wellman’s Wings, when Buddy Rogers has shot down his friend in a German plane, and he is holding his dead body, trying to tell him that he is sorry. Few sound films can compare to it.
Try:
My Best Girl (Mary Pickford, Buddy Rogers, 1927)
The Crowd (Vidor, 1928)
Intolerance (Griffith, 1916)
The Kid Brother (Lloyd, 1927)
As mentioned, too: City Lights (Chaplin, 1931). The entire film is worth sitting through for the final scene.
As far as I’m concerned, drama is the only genre that hasn’t recovered from sound.
Actually, I’ve just pulled out the disc, and it says “Image Entertainment” and “Milestone”. It doesn’t say either KIno or Criterion, but I coulda sworn I saw it labeled as Criterion on a website.
See, I have to call shenanigans.
Any wooden acting, by this justification, could be said to be expressing ‘experience beyond human understanding’ . This film’s got a bit more of an excuse for it than some, but if the director were here today, I’d say - Listen, bubba. While you may be trying to get your actress to convey emotions beyond the realm of human understanding - it’s a movie that’s going to be watched mostly by humans. So she should convey something that we can relate to that doesn’t look suspiciously like she just quaffed a gallon of laudanum.
I thought that the silent film was called The Cabinet Of Caligari, and that The Cabinet Of Dr Caligari was the title of an incredibly inferior American talkie remake.
I’ve wanted to see Nosferatu, and Ol’ Stonefaces many films for a while now. But, I fear that they will not live up to their reputations. That, and despite my love of horror films, Shreck remains the creepiest and most unnerving thing I’ve ever seen on film.
It isn’t wooden, it’s incredibly subtle. You don’t have to run around screaming “NO, YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER! YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER! THIS WHOLE COURTROOM IS OUT OF ORDER!” to turn in a good performance. 
She relates being in a state of grace, being in communion with her God without going completely over the top. Everything is behind her eyes.
I think the problem is that you are used to sound driven acting. Forget what you know about acting. Forget what you know about “good performances.”
Watch Breaking The Waves, The Magnificent Ambersons (Dolores Costello in particular) and Ultimo Tango A Parigi. “STELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” isn’t good acting; “Look at you! You’re a monument to your mother! You never wore makeup, never wore false eyelashes” is good acting. The amount of subtlety that Falconetti manages to convey with her eyes is simply astounding.
The original German title is Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari.
Spoil-sport spoilers about Way Down East (borrowed from my own trivia notes on the IMDb): The waterfall seen in long shot is Niagara Falls, which was not even in the same state as the Connecticut River that Gish and Barthelmess were on.
The ice floes seen at the climax drifting above and going over the waterfall were actually wood constructions, as the scene was shot out of season. The waterfall itself was only a few feet high, going no further down than what is seen at the bottom of the film frame.
Stunt people were used for Gish and Barthelmess in the ice floe rescue. Gish and Barthelmess themselves were used for closeups and scenes by the river bank.
We haven’t made nearly enough of Douglas Fairbanks. You just haven’t lived until you’ve seen The Mark of Zorro in a theater with live organ accompaniment. His other classics include Robin Hood and The Thief of Baghdad and although they both have great action scenes (and they built a 200-foot-tall castle for Robin Hood), they are a little slower than Zorro. And although I yield to no one in my admiration for Harold Lloyd, AFAIK, Fairbanks did all his own stunts. He was the real deal, and slortar is dead on about Fairbanks’ screen persona. He was the essence of a star. If you can’t arrange for a theater screening with a live organist, at least get your hands on a DVD or tape of Zorro, and prepare for the time of your life.
I’d also like to mention an experience that, although not exclusive to silent films, is virtually lost to us in the digital age, viz, viewing of nitrate prints. Until non-flammable safety film was developed in the early 1950s, movies were printed on nitrocellulose, an explosive material that, while obviously very dangerous (projection booths were required to have asbestos curtains that would drop between the projector and front wall in a fire) gave an absolutely gorgeous shimmering silver image. The difference between a nitrate print and an ordinary B&W safety film print is like the difference between watching a DVD and a lousy VHS tape. There is a magic to the nitrate image that you just have to see to believe.
I’ve been to several screenings of nitrate prints at the AFI, and they were amazing. Not surprisingly, relatively few projection booths and projectionists are qualified to handle nitrate these days, and few nitrate prints remain projectable. As they deteriorate, they tend to accumulate puddles of nitroglycerin. But believe me, it’s worth the trouble. If you have a chance to go to one, do it, no matter what the film is. It’s a real shame that this wonderful image system will soon be gone forever, if it’s not already.
D.W. Griffith’s Intolerance (1916): 3 hours, 17 minutes.
Abel Gance’s Napoleon (1927): 3 hours, 40 minutes (Paris premiere; a 9-hour version was shown in Nice and other provicinal cities).
I’m surprised that Eisenstein hasn’t been mentioned yet - are his films not viewed very highly by silent film enthusiasts? I saw The Battleship Potemkin on BBC4 the other night, and there were definitely powerful moments in it that I’d say made it worth watching.
Of course, I also found myself amused at the mustache-twirling villains of the piece, as well as certain suspicious resemblances from heros to Soviet leaders…
For beginners, though, I recommend “fun” silents like It, The Perils of Pauline, Keaton, Lloyd, Max Linder . . . Don’t scare 'em off with films that really require concentratrion and commitment to watch. “But Intolerance and Greed are too loooong!”
And shall we just agree that some people like La Passion De Jeanne d’Arc and some people don’t? Me, I can’t stand Charlie Chaplin, but if others like him, fine.