The Love Parade (1929)

Directed by Ernst Lubitsch
Starring Maurice Chevalier, Jeanette MacDonald and Lupino Lane
Produced by Paramount Pictures

Alfred Renard is the military attache for the small nation of Sylvania stationed in Paris. It's a great gig as he gets to wine and dine and bed French women to his heart's content. Life is great until he sleeps with the wife of the ambassador. For his transgressions, Alfred is sent to his home country to face the queen's justice.

Queen Louise has problems of her own. Her advisors, foreign dignitaries and her own countrymen are pressuring the monarch to marry. Her country needs a foreign loan and a husband may be enough to show the foreign markets that Sylvania's leadership is stable.

When Alfred is brought before her, Louise reads the report of his romantic exploits and is intrigued. She invites him to dinner and a household of spying servants moves into full gossip mode when their monarch leads the young suitor into her bedroom.

Soon, there is a wedding, but Alfred is not the "king." He's the prince consort. His only duty seems to be to save his strength for when the queen is ready for him (if you know what I mean).

Alfred begins yearning for his life back in Paris. Can the queen begin to trust her husband with affairs of state? Or will he escape the royal bedroom and jeopardize Sylvania's finances?


The Love Parade is billed as the first movie musical ever. Previous musicals like The Jazz Singer would include songs, but they were not critical to the plot. Here, Alfred and Louise are singing about their feelings and about their frustrations. It's character exposed by song.

The Love Parade is also supremely silly, moving its characters through a plot that makes no sense. If the foreign ambassador thinks Louise isn't happily married, he'll renege on the loan? A count who embarrassed queen and country is punished with a dinner date? Nonsensical.

Oddly though, it all sort of works in this light romantic romp. Helping things considerably are the two leads whose chemistry and mischievousness leap off the screen. Maurice Chevalier is particularly good as Alfred, milking the humor from every scene with a knowing smirk and a wink to the audience.

The songs are effective, but not terribly memorable. Alfred and Louise's duet "My Love Parade," describing how the queen has all the best parts of the consort's previous conquests, has the best chance of getting stuck in your head. The funniest song hands down is "Nobody's Using It Now," a lament from Alfred that he is not appreciated by his wife. It is slyly bawdy and Chevalier knows just handle the material.

The Love Parade's opening moments left me frustrated, but the charm of the leads won me over. The film was a pleasant surprise that fans of movie musicals should give a shot.

**** out of *****

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Captain Fracasse (1929)

Directed by Alberto Cavalcanti and Henry Wulschleger
Starring Pierre Blanchar, Lien Deyers and Charles Boyer

There are a lot of things that make a movie great. Great characters. Towering performances. A premise that captivates you and themes that leave you itching to talk about it with friends.

Captain Fracasse has none of these things.

A movie can still be good despite the lack of these elements. One great performance by an actor or a couple of great set pieces can keep you coming back for more.

Sadly, Captain Fracasse lacks these elements as well.

A film can be mediocre. If a director can get across a basic story in a comprehensible way and keep the actors in focus and in frame....

I think you know where I'm going.


Captain Fracasse is an astoundingly awful silent. This plot (a poor nobleman joins a troop of traveling actors, falls in love and must fight to save his girl) has potential as a comedy or an action film or even a mystery.

The film makes feeble grabs at each of these. But you cannot be a comedy with characters this dour and humorless. And you can't be an actioner when you only stage a couple of sword fights, and those consist entirely of the same three moves repeated over and over again. And you are certainly not a mystery if at the first opportunity, your disguised hero walks up to the villain and proclaims he can't wait to reveal himself later.

All of the above would be enough to make this an okay, but boring affair. However, when you couple it with inept direction and dialogue, the film moves to new kinds of terrible. It is as though the makers of Captain Fracasse have never actually seen a film before.

Shots are out of focus and subjects are out of frame. Not in artistic ways that may demonstrate uncertainty or man's divided nature. It's sheer ineptitude. And it's frustrating.

The final nail in the coffin of this dead-on-arrival effort is its dialogue. Silents are at their best when the intertitles are sparse and the action conveys most of what we need to know.

Here, the intertitles fill the screen with flowery language that adds little to the story. At one point, in the middle of a sword fight (!?), one of the combatants starts talking. And it goes on for three screens.

Captain Fracasse is a film that wears its ineptitude and plodding plot like boxing gloves and pummels its audience for the full 15 rounds. In the end, one of the bad guys is killed quickly as an act of mercy. If only the film offered its audience the same.

* out of *****

Photo from Dreamland Cafe

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Pandora's Box (1929)

Directed by Georg Wilhelm Pabst
Starring Louise Brooks, Fritz Kortner and Francis Lederer
Produced by Nero-Film AG

Lulu is an aspiring performer, but currently makes due as the mistress of a newspaper editor. The editor, Dr. Schön, catches Lulu with another man and tells her he is marrying another woman. As a consolation prize, Schön will get Lulu booked into a variety show run by his son Alwa.

Opening night comes and Schön brings his fiancée Charlotte to the performance. Lulu can't stand to see him with another woman and refuses to go in stage. When the editor goes backstage to convince her to perform, Lulu seduces him and Charlotte catches Schön in Lulu's embrace. Schön resigns himself to marrying Lulu.

On the night of their wedding reception, Schön finds Lulu talking with a couple of friends from her old life. Enraged, the husband grabs a gun and chases all of the guests out. He hands the gun to Lulu and demands that she kill herself. She refuses, they struggle, the gun goes off and Lulu is left standing.

At the murder trial, Lulu is found guilty, but Alwa helps her escape. On the run, they take refuge in a ship turned gambling den and eventually head to London. Wherever they go, unsavory characters meet them at every turn, blackmailing them over Lulu's past.

Can the couple escape from their increasingly dire circumstances? And what do a lesbian countess and Jack the Ripper have to do with this story?


Pandora's Box features some virtuoso camera work courtesy of acclaimed director G.W. Pabst. It is anchored by a lead performance by Louise Brooks that is brilliant in its subtlety. Unfortunately, it also follows a script and structure that wring most of the emotion and life from the film.

That Pabst knows his way around a camera comes as no surprise. His previous work in The Love of Jeanne Ney showed he could establish character and mood as well as Alfred Hitchcock. In Pandora's Box, the director constantly plays with light and shadow and the film literally becomes darker as it moves toward its climax.

This is my introduction to Louise Brooks, but she is instantly captivating. Her every smile and movement feels so fluid and realistic, her performance would be right at home in a modern film. There is a restraint to her acting that makes her leap off the screen in a way that all of the wild gestures of her contemporaries cannot seem to capture. From the moment we see her, she's a star.

Sadly, the script utterly fails her. The film centers on eight "acts," which are really eight individual moments in Lulu's life. Because we are leaping through her timeline in fits and starts, we never get a moment to ground ourselves in her reality. Why is she marrying Schön? Does Alwa really love her and vice versa? I'm never clear why anyone is doing what they are doing except that it is what the screenplay demanded.

The other impact of the staccato script is that we don't get to see how other characters are evolving. For example, there is a countess friend who helps Lulu at a critical moment. It is implied she has a romantic interest in Lulu. Do we get to see why or what comes of it? Of course not. The film is principally interested in moving from story beat to story beat.

(*SPOILER*) If films are really about their end, this is one that really needs to be talked about. Lulu encounters a man in an alley and goes off with him. The man turns out to be someone very much like Jack the Ripper. He at first resists his urges, but ultimately grabs a knife and kills Lulu as Alwa seemingly walk off to join the Salvation Army.

Now, what are we to take from that? Was her fate deserved by any of her earlier actions? Or is the nature of life a series of random interactions that any moment may bring literal salvation or doom? If I cared a wit about these characters, I'd give these heady questions further consideration. But I don't, so I won't.

Pandora's Box boasts some of the industry's most accomplished artists, but rather than place them on a track and let them go, they are stuck with a treadmill of a script. Lots of energy expended, but it never seems to go anywhere. Its worth watching for Pabst and Brooks, but only for about 15 minutes. You won't get anymore from it by hanging around longer.

** out of *****

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The Cocoanuts (1929)

Directed by Robert Florey and Joseph Santley
Starring The Marx Brothers
Produced by Paramount Pictures

At a struggling resort hotel in Florida, a con man and his girl plot to steal some jewels from Mrs. Potter, a wealthy matron staying at the establishment.

Mrs Potter's daughter Polly is in love with Bob, but Mrs. Potter wants her to marry the con man, believing him to be a socialite.

When the jewels go missing, Bob is blamed. How can he prove his innocence and get the girl? And what are the Marx Brothers doing here? And what about these dancers that keep showing up?



The Cocoanuts is the first ever Marx Brothers film, so it has an automatic place in film history. The film is an adaptation of the brothers' stage show...

It's also a mess, a mess that almost works.

As an exercise in meta filmmaking, The Cocoanuts is remarkable. Here, you have a film that is ostensibly about this love triangle and heist, with the Marx Bros. as background characters. However, over the course of the film, the comedians start taking over. Their scenes become longer and, by the end, we forget the "main" characters even existed.

Watching the Marx Brothers invade this more traditional film is a joy. There are problems however. In addition to the comedians, we have a group of dancers constantly elbowing their way into the movie. The film at points literally screeches to a halt to accommodate a musical number.

I do not have any issue with musicals. The dancing here is actually pretty well done (especially compared to something like The Broadway Melody). However, The Cocoanuts makes no effort to connect the dancing to anything happening in the story. None of the dancers are characters and you could cut them entirely with no impact on the plot.

My other big problem here is frankly the Marx Brothers. I just didn't find them to be very funny. I can sit there and objectively assess that turning "stucco" into "stuck-oh" or "viaduct" into why a duck" is clever. I get that Harpo eating a telephone is absurd. It just doesn't tickle my funny bone at all.

So while I love the conceit of a movie that is so utterly hijacked by the Marx Brothers that it only begrudgingly resolves its plot, the fact that the comedians' humor doesn't work for me here means I'm not left with much. Add in the unnecessary musical numbers and I can only say I was disappointed.

** out of *****

NOTE: Apparently, I am not the only one who had an issue with the film. The Marx Brothers reportedly were horrified when they saw the final cut and tried to convince the producers to sell them the film so they could bury it. Their offer was refused and The Cocoanuts went on to be a big hit.

Photo from A Mythical Monkey writes about the Movies

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The Love Trap (1929)

Directed by William Wyler
Starring Laura La Plante and Neil Hamilton
Produced by Universal Pictures

It's rehearsal time for a chorus line. The girls stretch and then move into a rhythmic Rockettes-like kick line.  The director's eyes fix on Evelyn Todd.  He stops the dance and asks her to demonstrate the steps.  She is thrilled with the attention until the director warns the other dancers that if they dance like Evelyn, they'll be fired too.

Rejected and despondent, Evelyn agrees to go to a party with her friend Bunny. Evelyn gets a little tipsy and proves to be a little too unreserved for the likes of Judge Harrington.  Bunny trades dates with her friend, and Evelyn ends up with the party's host Guy Emory.

After "accidentally" spilling a drink on his new date, Emory takes Evelyn up to his room to change. There, he "accidentally" drops her dress out the window.  Evelyn seems to give into Guy's advances, but then punches him in the nose and hightails it out of there.

She races home in a stolen jacket to find she has been evicted from her apartment and all of her belongings thrown in a heap on the sidewalk.  Dejected, she sits on one of the chairs as a rainstorm hits. A passing auto throws mud all over her. 

However, things are not as bad as they seem.  The car slows to a halt and a man jumps out the back.  He cleans her off and offers to drive her somewhere to spend the night.  When Evelyn is hesitant to leave her possessions, he hails three additional cabs and loads her stuff into them.

After sleeping in the cab and waking to find they cannot afford the fare, the couple are unceremoniously dumped in the countryside.  The incident causes the two to fall in love and they marry.

However, Evelyn's new husband Peter is the nephew of Judge Harrington and the well-to-do patriarch is none too pleased about welcoming a chorus girl into the family.  Will Peter and Evelyn's love stay strong?  And can the woman outwit the domineering Judge?


Sometimes you go into a film wanting to be challenged.  Wanting to see the world in a new way. Wanting to learn something you never knew before.

And sometimes you want something breezy and fun like The Love Trap.

The film has all of the heft of a helium balloon, but it's so much fun you don't mind staying with these characters for an hour or so.

Much of the credit here goes to Laura La Plante's Evelyn and Neil Hamilton's Peter.  They only have a few moments to make you believe that they fall in love, but their meet-cute works.  Peter's clearly gallant and head-over-heels, but Evelyn maintains a healthy skepticism right up until her white knight battles the cab drivers for her.  You see why she falls for him and falls hard.

The third act is a nice reversal of Evelyn's early predicament with Emory.  Judge Harrington is just the right amount of befuddled to sell the comedy.  And the way Peter resolves it all is smart and in keeping with every one's character.

One interesting element of the film is the shift two-thirds of the way through from silent to talkie.  It's a subtle shift (there were not a lot of title cards throughout the silent portion), and one I didn't think much about until after it was over. 

Although the switch is not overly shocking, it does affect La Plante's performance.  During the silent portions, you can clearly tell what she is saying by reading her lips.  Once the sound is turned on for the third act, she continues to over-enunciate every word as she did through the earlier, silent scenes.

I generally like compressing scripts into their most basic elements, but here they went perhaps a too minimal.  It would have been nice to see a bit more of Evelyn and Peter's courtship and wedding.  It's honestly not necessary for the story, but I enjoyed them as a couple so much it would have been nice to spend a little more time with them.

The Love Trap is a fun, funny romantic comedy that could have stood to have a bit longer second act.  It won't change the world and isn't essential viewing, but if you're looking for a light, cotton candy confection of a film, it's a great choice.

**** out of *****

NOTE: I said this in my earlier review of America, but it bears repeating: Neil Hamilton would go on to play Commissioner Gordon in the 1960s Batman television series.

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The Broadway Melody (1929)

Directed by Harry Beaumont
Starring Bessie Love, Anita Page and Charles King
Produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer (MGM)

Eddie is an up-and-coming song-and-dance man whose latest song, The Broadway Melody, has singers lining up to "put it over." Eddie knows he has a hit, but he's saving it for a sister act moving to New York from the west. Why? Because one of them is the soon-to-be Mrs. Eddie Kearns.

Eddie's fiancée Hank has the brains and moxie of the duo while her sister Queenie has the looks. Eddie gets them in for an audition in Mr. Zanfield's latest review, but between a smart aleck dancer and a malfunctioning piano, their number does not go well. Despite that, Zanfield agrees to bring them into the act.

When the dress rehearsal comes, Zanfield decides the show is moving too slowly and cuts the Mahoney Sisters. Queenie finds herself replacing an injured chorus girl while Hank can only watch from the sidelines.

To complicate matters, Jock Warriner, a wealthy theater patron has taken a shine to Queenie and Eddie himself is falling in love with the more attractive sister.

Will Hank come to terms with her sister's burgeoning stardom? And will Queenie choose Jock or Eddie?

In 1930, The Broadway Melody won the Best Picture Oscar. The award represented a couple of milestones. First, it was the first sound film to win the Academy Award.

And apparently, it is also the worst film to be honored as well.

At some level, I get it. Sound is new and people were flocking to the theater to hear their films for the first time. The Broadway Melody was capitalizing on a trend.

But this is a really bad movie.

The film gives us four main characters, but no reason to cheer for any of them. He brings Hank to New York to marry her, but immediately falls for Queenie on looks alone. Hank is surly and rude for the entire first half of the film, stiffing a bell hop and accosting theater owners with a sense of entitlement. Queenie is vapid, quick to capitalize on her looks and seemingly more interested in diamonds than her sister.

By default, Jock is the one I most liked. And he is supposed to be the villain of the piece. We are told repeatedly that he is a skirt chaser who will lose interest in Queenie the moment a new model comes around. We never see that. In fact, he seems pretty devoted. He makes a turn toward the end to solidify his spot as the bad guy, but for most of the movie it's not apparent why we are rooting against him.

All that would be a high hurdle for any film to overcome. The Broadway Melody however couples its loathsome characters with terrible acting. I mean high school freshman level. A character leaves a room, then stops because he is waiting for someone to call him back. There are random, multiple awkward hugs, uncomfortable stares and emotionless line readings.

For a musical, even the singing and dancing is unremarkable. There are no memorable songs and the dancing lacks any energy or even coordination at points.

For directors, usually I am paying attention to shot selection and framing, editing and how well they work with the actors. I apparently also have to worry about whether they and their crew can keep a shot in focus.

There are exactly two things I enjoyed here. First, there were some nice helicopter shots establishing New York City. Second, Eddie Kane as Zanfield was great. It's a character who surrounds himself with yes-men and always gets his way. Kane delivers his lines stone-faced and in a deadpan tone that brought some humor.

If it sounds like I am reaching for things to like, you are definitely on the right track. A cliched scenario, characters you hate, actors who can't act and dancing that grates. The Broadway Melody is almost so bad it's good.

Almost.

* out of *****

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Oswald the Lucky Rabbit in Hurdy Gurdy and Permanent Wave

Directed by Walter Lantz
Produced by Universal Pictures and Walter Lantz Productions

In Hurdy Gurdy, a bear entertains passersby on a street corner with his music box and pet monkey.  When Oswald incapacitates the monkey, the bear forces the rabbit to become his new monkey.  This kicks off a series of adventures that lead to Oswald making out with a cat and a hippo mooning the audience as she bathes.

In Permanent Wave, Oswald is the first mate on a boat captained by the bear.  Our hero attempts to find food for his oppressive captain, but even the bowl of soup is stolen by a gull.  The boat happens upon an island whose main inhabitant is a beautiful singer.  Can Oswald win the girl from his evil boss?



Oswald the Lucky Rabbit? More like Oswald the Gets Lucky Rabbit.

In Hurdy Gurdy, Oswald kisses a cat. A lot. At the end, there is even some really obvious interspecies tongue. In Permanent Wave, he's not constantly making out, but he definitely ends up smacking lips with exotic island babe.

Oswald's skirt chasing is at least character-defining, which give these shorts a leg up on the Mickey ones from this year.  In Hurdy Gurdy, he seems almost single-mindedly focused on chasing a girl.  In Permanent Wave, he's trying to escape his awful job; the girl is just a happy coincidence.

The films also have a preoccupation with butts.  We see a hippo's naked rear and learn that boats apparently have butts as well.  Weird.

The character design of Oswald's universe remains so close to Disney's characters it's frightening.  Disney did not own the rights to Oswald so when he went out on his own, he abandoned his creation.  Even with Universal now producing the films, they remain very close cousins to the signature look of the mouse.

As to the quality of these shorts.  They are fine.  Not terribly funny, but not terrible either.  They are good for what they are, but not something I'm going to remember for the long haul.

Hurdy Gurdy: ***
Permanent Wave: **1/2

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Japanese Animation of 1929: Kobu-Tori and Taro's Toy Train

Directed by Yasuji Murata

In Kobu-Tori, an old man with a lump growing on his face takes refuge in a hollow tree during a thunderstorm.  When he awakens, he finds the forest populated by mythic creatures.  He dances with the sprites and as a reward, the creatures remove his deformity.  Back in the village, he tells another man who has a similar growth on his face?  Will the creatures bestow the same boon upon this other man?

In Taro's Toy Train, a small boy named Taro spends his days playing with other children and his evenings playing with his toy electric train.  After he goes to sleep, the train comes alive in his dreams with animals as passengers and himself as the conductor.  But when the monkeys and the farm animals come to blows, can Taro keep the peace?



In 1929, we have seen Disney (meh) and we have seen Felix (better), but after watching these, the Japanese are frankly kicking our American tail.

Both films have a wonderful amount of detail at a level unseen in the other animation reviewed on the site.  The characters here are incredibly intricate in design and capable of a range of emotions that make Mickey and Felix look like cardboard cutouts.

Kobu-Tori is superior to Taro's Toy Train in the story it tells. The former has a whimsical, fairy tale atmosphere and some real lessons at its heart. The latter is slight and practically devoid of any real plot.

In these early Japanese cartoons you can see the beginnings of anime. It's frankly embarrassing to see how far ahead these are compared to anything produced in an American studio.

Kobu-Tori: ****1/2
Taro's Toy Train: ***1/2

Kobu-Tori:


Taro's Toy Train:

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Felix the Cat in One Good Turn and Forty Winks (1929)

Directed by Otto Messmer
Produced by Pat Sullivan Cartoons

In One Good Turn, after being momentarily mistaken for a clock by his groggy owner, Felix is begrudgingly put outside for the night. He works his way back into the house, but his owner launches him into the woods. There, he encounters a boxing bear, but is rescued by a fox. Our feline hero heads home, but spies a hunting party looking for his new friend? Can Felix repay his new friend's kindness and save the fox?

In Forty Winks, Felix is conducting a chorus of cats as they attempt to sing. A nearby homeowner objects to the cacophony and succeeds in knocking all of the cats out (except Felix) with a cloud of ether. Our feckless feline in not unaffected by the gas and tries to grab some shuteye on the couch. His sleep is soon interrupted by everything from a screaming baby to a rambunctious bear. (At least I think it's a bear. It has mouse ears so... a bear mouse? Ursa rodentus?) Can Felix find a quiet spot for a nap?



These Felix shorts have everything I want out of my 1920s animation. You get a real sense of the cat as a character in these, but you also get some really clever and funny ideas in the animation itself.

Felix of course is both a troublemaker and has a heart of gold. He's willing to leave the anthropomorphic clock out in the dreary night, but risks his life to save the fox from the hunters. He falls squarely into that long tradition of Bugs Bunny-like cartoon heroes.

Where the Felix cartoons really shine is in how they present Felix' world. You feel like there is never a missed opportunity. After saving the fox, Felix orders a couple of beers from a mosquito. The bug goes to a barrel, uses its needle-like nose to drain it, then returns to fill up a couple of barrels.

That sight gag would be funny enough, but then the fox blows the head of the beer of the mug and onto Felix' face. The cat turns it into an opportunity to shave. The gags are constantly building on each other in ways that made me smile, if not laugh.

The other great thing about the Felix shorts is their timing and pace. The jokes are well-constructed and the shorts really motor along. The animators only linger on moments for as long as necessary.

If I had to put Felix and Mickey Mouse in a steel cage death match based on their 1929 films, the cat would wipe the floor with the mouse.

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Mickey Mouse in Haunted House and The Opry House

Directed by Walt Disney
Produced by Walt Disney Productions

In Haunted House, our verminous hero finds himself stuck in the middle of a terrible storm. He seeks refuge in a dilapidated home, but soon learns this haven may be more terrifying than anything Mother Nature can dish out. Will the home's undead occupants prove too much for Mickey? Or will he be able to keep them toe-tapping to some organ music long enough to make his escape?

In The Opry House, the rascally rodent performs a vaudeville show for the residents of a small town. The mouse is literally a one man show. He sweeps the theater's porch, performs every role and plays every instrument. But will he be able to handle all of these responsibilities?


After the giddy kick-in-the-pants that was Steamboat Willie, I was excited to revisit some more of Walt Disney's early Mickey Mouse cartoons. The animator's sound breakthrough reveled in the hero's mischievous attitude and the short's innovative use of music and noise.

Sadly, these shorts feel like a bit of a step back. Mickey never really gets to shine through as a character. In Haunted House, he enters a house, gets frightened by some spiders and bats, and is forced to play music for a room full of skeletons. Stuff happens to him and he just passively takes it.

In The Opry House, he's just putting on his show. There's not a lot of conflict he's dealing with (except for his efforts to fit a portly audience member through the front door).

Both shorts are gag-driven and I could forgive the issues above if they were funny, but they're not. Haunted House is monotonously boring. Skeletons dancing over and over. At least The Opry House switched things up a bit by having Mickey perform different numbers. Even these though seemed more a showcase for an animation style (which is unavoidably dated) than for producing laughs.

Throw a racist portrayal of Mickey as a Hasidic Jew into the mix and I get nothing but disappointment. The Opry House is slightly better than The Haunted House, but both are pale shadows of Steamboat Willie.

Photos from Wayfaring Mouse and Mickey Mouse Cartoon

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Man with a Movie Camera (1929)

An empty theater sits, awaiting its next audience. The seats of the chairs lower in unison, inviting the crowd to watch the scheduled movie. The patrons file in and take their seats, the lights lower and the projector springs to life to show...

Dawn is approaching in the city. Its denizens begin to stir, its streets come to life, its machinery starts turning. We see people at work and at play. Committing to one another through matrimony and breaking the bond in divorce. Being born and dying.

It could be any day in any city, but a lone cameraman is there, moving through the crowds and buildings, climbing and flying to document every tick and movement of the metropolis.



I am sure director Dziga Vertov had never heard the term "meta" in 1929, but he certainly understands the concept. At its core, Man with a Movie Camera is a film about an audience watching a film about the camera man creating the film that they are watching. Mindbending stuff.

To make the film more enigmatic, it is clear we are never actually seeing the footage shot by the cameraman being followed on screen. As he is pulled across a waterfall on a platform, he looks to be getting some great footage. But it never appears on the screen. We are only following him.

The set up and premise are challenging (in the best possible way), but the beyond its scenario, the film has to be good to be meaningful. Despite its meta trappings, Man with a Movie Camera is essentially a documentary about life in a city, cinematic ground previously covered by Berlin: Symphony of a Great City.

Except Man with a Movie Camera aspires to so much more. Every frame, every shot is meticulously considered and it's juxtaposition always has a point.

Some of it is obvious. We cut between a wedding and a divorce proceeding. A live birth and a funeral procession.

But others are more whimsical. Opening and closing window blinds intercut with a blinking eye. A seamstress working thread with a film editor cutting film.

The images make you think. About mortality. About the body as a machine. About the possibilities of film. And if a scene doesn't speak to you, another moment is coming hard upon its heels.

For its time, Man with a Movie Camera is revolutionary for its fast editing and cerebral approach. I can't say it was entertaining, but days later I'm still turning individual scenes over in my head.

****1/2 out of *****

Photo from Silent Volume

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Blackmail (1929)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock
Starring Anny Ondra, John Longden and Sara Allgood 
Produced by British International Pictures

Detective Frank Webber is taking his girl Alice out for a night on the town.  Frank manages to sneak the couple into a posh and exclusive night spot, but Alice seems distracted.  He asks if she'd like to take in a movie later.  She demurs before accepting.

Then a man in a light-colored suit enters the restaurant.  Alice notices him and backs out of her date with Frank.  Frustrated, the detective storms out of the restaurant, but pauses outside the entrance to contemplate his next move.  He seems ready to reenter the building.  When he sees Alice leaving arm-in-arm with the other man.

The man, an artist named Crewe, walks her home, pointing out his flat as they go.  He asks if she'd like to stop up and after a little protesting Alice agrees.

Once in the man's apartment her eye is drawn to a painting of a clown pointing his finger out from the canvas and laughing.  Crewe gives Alice an impromptu art lesson, drawing a slender woman's figure on a cartoonish face she created.  He offers to draw her modeling a dress he has on hand.  She slips into it while he plays the piano.  When she's dressed... he forces her onto the bed.

Alice screams and fights back, but it's no use.  Desperately, she reaches for anything she can find.  Her hand falls on a knife next to a plate of cheese.  There is a struggle hidden behind a curtain. When the confrontation ends, a dazed Alice emerges from behind the curtain.

Panicking, she quickly wipes all evidence of her presence from the room, walks home and slips into bed before anyone notices she is gone.

The next day, Crewe's landlady finds his body and calls the police.  One of the officers is Frank.  He surveys the room and notices Alice's glove on the floor.  Instead of turning over the evidence, he pockets it and goes to speak with his girl.

As Frank starts to confront Alice about her night, the couple are interrupted by petty criminal Tracey, who has Alice's other glove from the murder scene.  He's willing to forget they were there for a payoff.

Can Frank and Alice turn the tables on Tracey?  And can Alice live with her crime?



Amidst all that is going on in film at this point (stilted melodramas and a messy transition to sound), it is fascinating to see Hitchcock's first real talkie arrive. And it's a classic Hitchcock set up. Boy like girl. Girl likes other boy. Girl kills other boy after attempted rape. Boy helps girl cover up crime. Stir in a healthy dose of paranoia and you are ready.

What surprises is Hitchcock's immediate mastery of sound and all of its possibilities in film. There is an amazing sequence with Alice, at the height of her paranoia, listening to another person describe the crime. It's a normal conversation, but gradually the words start to blur and become muffled until all Alice can hear is the word "knife." And the word is shouted like punctuation at the end of a sentence.

More than that (and very unlike the recently reviewed In Old Arizona), Blackmail is a film that revels in its silent moments. The director already seems to grasp the tension created when we hear nothing, when we are holding our breath in anticipation along with the characters on screen.

The other truly notable element of Blackmail is its imaginative camerawork. The camera floats through walls and floors to follow characters up flights of stairs. It finds the small details of every scene: here, a spinning hubcap; there, the tinkling bell above the shop door. We see the characters in extreme closeup, often seeming to challenge the audience directly.

All that said, it's far from a perfect film. The editing, a signature of later Hitchcock work, is too disjointed and choppy in parts. We careen from shot to shot, sometimes with little purpose and sometimes for too short a moment for it to have purpose.

The acting is okay, with the exception of Anny Ondra's Alice. She overplays every emotion in a movie that needs a bit of understatement.

Knowing where Hitchcock is going later in his career only adds to my admiration for Blackmail. Like the pencil drawing in the film, we get hints of genius, but it's unfinished and unrealized here. Still, it's a fascinating watch if only to see the word "Hitchcockian" begin to be defined.

***1/2 out of *****

Photo from The RD Horror Project

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Bowl of Serials: Tarzan the Tiger Episode 6

Bowl of Serials delves into the world of movie serials in cinematic history, one episode at a time.  First up, Tarzan the Tiger, a 15 episode serial that ran in theaters weekly between 1929 and 1930.  The episodes starred Frank Merrill (Tarzan), Natalie Kingston (Jane), Al Ferguson (Werper), and Kithnou (La) and were directed by Henry MacRae.

When we lost saw the amnesiac Tarzan, he had been captured by now-deceased slaver Achmet Zek's men after being betrayed by his former friend Werper over a satchel of jewels.

His captivity lasts all of ten seconds as he begins beating Zek's men and throws Werper out the window.

He is about to exit, but realizes he can't leave Jane behind. Even though he can't remember her, Tarzan feels Jane is a friend.

The couple head toward the hut where Tarzan was orphaned and adopted by an ape. Jane tries unsuccessfully to help Tarzan regain his memory. After some effort, Tarzan heads for the treetops to sleep, leaving Jane in the hut with the jewels.

Werper and his men find the hut and Werper convinces Jane he instill her friend. He "pretends" to capture her and takes her to the slave market.

Tarzan awakens and finds the hut empty. Enraged because he thinks Jane has betrayed him, he teams up with Tantor the elephant to track her down.

Werper convinces Jane to be sold as a slave and commits to being the highest bidder. Of course, when the moment comes, he does not bid and Jane is sold.

Moments later, Tantor destroys the gates to the market with Tarzan on his back. The elephant stampedes through the square scattering slaves and slaver's alike. What happens next? Tune in next week...


I like the tale they tell here. We get some natural exposition about Tarzan's history. We get Tarzan actually getting an assist from one of his jungle friends. We get Werper going full-on baddie.

Unfortunately, we get Jane being a rube.

"Sure, guy who betrayed me moments ago, I'll totally pretend to be your prisoner. What? You want to sell me as a slave, but buy me yourself? I can see no flaw in your plan?"

The sad thing is from a story perspective, there's no reason for Jane to trust Werper. If she had not trusted, she still would have become a prisoner and been sold as a slave. The script choice serves only to make her look like an idiot.

Still, it's keeping my interest. Wonder what will happen next?

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Bowl of Serials: Tarzan the Tiger Episode 5

Bowl of Serials delves into the world of movie serials in cinematic history, one episode at a time.  First up, Tarzan the Tiger, a 15 episode serial that ran in theaters weekly between 1929 and 1930.  The episodes starred Frank Merrill (Tarzan), Natalie Kingston (Jane), Al Ferguson (Werper), and Kithnou (La) and were directed by Henry MacRae.

When we last saw Tarzan and Jane, they were captured by the priestess La and her Sun Worshippers, and Tarzan (still suffering from amnesia) was about to meet the business end of a spear. Tarzan's false friend Werper returned to Greystoke to find a suspicious Achmet Zek waiting for him.

The Sun Worshipper hurls the spear at Tarzan from a few feet away and... misses! High and to the right. No sooner does the spear lodge itself in the tree when Zetks men arrive and recapture Jane. A fight ensues and Tarzan rescues La.

La, now believing Tarzan loves her, declares he shall not be harmed. The priestess' necklace reminds Tarzan of the jewels he hid in the forest.

He sets off to find the treasure and discovers Werper has stolen it. Enraged, he seeks out his former friend and sees him in the distance being chased by Zek.

Werper and Zek fight. Werper kills the slaver and escapes from Tarzan back to Zek's camp where Jane is being held.

Werper plots to sell Jane as a slave, but is betrayed by Zek's second-in-command. Werper kills the man, but Tarzan arrives, crashing through the roof to reclaim his jewels.

Zek's men arrive and see their leader dead. Werper claims Tarzan murdered him and is captured. What fate awaits our hero next?


This episode represents the best and worst aspects of this serial so far. The pace really picks up. Zek is taken off the board. Werper is revealed as a bad guy. Tarzan reaches a temporary resolution with La. It ends at an intriguing moment. All good.

But then there's the spear missing Tarzan. You want your hero to earn his escape, not stumble into it. When Tarzan is angry, he starts breaking sticks, uprooting trees and throwing boulders. He looks ridiculous doing it, like my four year old throwing a tantrum. And when the animals "help" him? It consists of him running by a tiger, pointing as though he is speaking with the comatose animal, and running off. Silly.

Still, I'm happy about the forward movement here. I'd be happier if the amnesia subplot fizzled out, but I'm not holding my breath there.

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Big Business (1929)

Directed by James W. Horne, Leo McCarey
Starring Stan Laurel, Oliver Hardy and James Finlayson
Produced by Hal Roach Studios

It's Christmas time and Oliver and Stan are looking to make a quick buck. They are riding the streets in town with a couple of shabby looking pine trees in the back, looking to sell them door-to-door.

The first woman refuses to buy, then takes offense to something Stan says. The second house displays a no soliciting sign. Hardy ignores it and gets hit in the head with a hammer for his trouble.

The third house proves the most troublesome. The man refuses the tree, but closes the door on one of the branches. They ring him again and free the tree, but this time Stan's coat gets caught. They bother the man one more time to free the jacket.

No sooner do they return to the car when Stan has a "big business" idea. He returns to the man and asks him to preorder a tree for next year. The potential customer reaches his boiling point and cuts Stan's tree into little pieces.

The boys retaliate and the man responds in kind. There is escalation. Landscaping and automobiles are not safe. The police become involved.

How far will the chaos extend? And will it end in laughter or tears?



Comedy is hard. Really hard. The Oscars annoy for a variety of reasons, but chief amongst them for me is their proclivity towards recognizing artists capable of creating manipulative tears over honest laughs. (*sound of soapbox sliding away*)

However, reviewing comedies may be as hard. Let's face it. Everyone is different. What makes me laugh may only create annoyance for you or vice versa.

Which is all prologue to say Big Business made me laugh. Out loud. More than once.

Which is in retrospect odd because the movie is really one really long joke. Or the same joke repeated over and over. But it's a hell of a joke.

An act of vandalism occurs. The victim escalates. Repeat.

It's funny because of the madcap glee of the participants by the end. It's funny because of how far they take the premise. It's funny because you think back to how it starts and how it ends.

Only afterward did I realize it never occurred to anyone involved to throw a punch. Or even to simply end the carnage.

Laurel and Hardy's Big Business is one of those classics that does not disappoint. It starts small, goes big and wrings every laugh from its premise.

****1/2 out of *****

Photo from MOMA

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Bowl of Serials: Tarzan the Tiger Ep. 4

Bowl of Serials delves into the world of movie serials in cinematic history, one episode at a time.  First up, Tarzan the Tiger, a 15 episode serial that ran in theaters weekly between 1929 and 1930.  The episodes starred Frank Merrill (Tarzan), Natalie Kingston (Jane), Al Ferguson (Werper), and Kithnou (La) and were directed by Henry MacRae.

Chapter 4: The Vengeance of La

When last we saw our heroes, Jane was being attacked by Taglat the ape, while an amnesia-suffering Tarzan was about to be killed in his sleep by his supposed friend Werper.

Jane's scream wakes Tarzan, but the apeman does not notice the knife in Werper's hand. Tarzan sets off after Jane and an epic battle in the trees ensues. Tarzan defeats Taglat, but he has no memory of Jane.

The evil high priestess La has followed Tarzan and her men capture the couple easily. La makes Tarzan choose between her and Jane. Our hero selects the jungle instead, outraging La.

Meanwhile, back at Greystoke Manor, Werper arrives to find the slaver Achmet Zek waiting to ambush Jane. She escaped him earlier, but he wants her recaptured.

Werper recounts his adventure to Zek, leaving out the part where he stole the jewels from Tarzan. Zek sets out to find Jane, but Werper begs off. Suspicious, Zek remains behind to keep tabs on his accomplice and sees him admiring the jewels. But Werper sees his partner spying on him and arms himself.

La has set up a double sacrifice with Tarzan to die first? Will our hero avoid the killing stroke? And who will win Werper and Zek's deadly game of cat-and-mouse?


This episode feels like we are crossing off the checklist. Of course Tarzan doesnt recognize Jane (yet), although there is a glimmer of recognition. Of course he must choose between his wife and La. Why else give him the memory loss if not to create issues with his wife?

I liked Taglat's appearance in the prior episode, but here it is painfully clear we are watching a man in a suit.

A lot of this chapter feels like the wheels are spinning with little movement. We do leave Tarzan at a moment of real peril though. Let's see how he escapes... next time.

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Bowl of Serials: Tarzan the Tiger, Ep. 3

Bowl of Serials delves into the world of movie serials in cinematic history, one episode at a time.  First up, Tarzan the Tiger, a 15 episode serial that ran in theaters weekly between 1929 and 1930.  The episodes starred Frank Merrill (Tarzan), Natalie Kingston (Jane), Al Ferguson (Werper), and Kithnou (La) and were directed by Henry MacRae.

Chapter 3: The Altar of the Flaming God

In our last episode, Jane's decision between marriage or slavery is interrupted by a misoon, Tarzan was caught in a ceiling collapse and the high priestess La was preparing to sacrifice the evil Werper to her god.

Tarzan awakens but a blow to the head has erased his memory. He comes upon another treasure room with a chest full of jewels, but doesn't know what they are. Still, he pockets some of the "pretty pebbles."

He stumbles upon La and prevents her from killing Werper. He doesn't recognize La (who tried to kill Jane in the past) or Werper (who Tarzan "thought" was his friend). A fight ensues between Tarzan and La's followers, but our hero escapes into the jungle with Werper.

Meanwhile, the slaver's camp where Jane is held captive is being reassembled after the storm. Jane dreams about her date with the slaver's auction block (note: we never see her make her choice, but whatever...). She sees a rag on a table and gets to work on a more traditionally Jane-like outfit. When her sewing is complete, she lifts the edge of the tent and sneaks away.

Tarzan and Werper set up camp, but have attracted the attention of another of Tarzan's jungle foes, Taglat. The ape attacks Werper, but Tarzan intervenes and sends Taglat running.

The ape comes upon another means of harming Tarzan: Jane. And while Tarzan sleeps, Werper steals the apeman's jewels and raises his knife to kill the hero.

Will Jane escape Taglat's wrath? And can Tarzan save himself from the two-faced Werper?

An amnesia plot line? Really?

(* sigh *)

Okay, I guess we are going there. I'm assuming Tarzan's memory loss will be more of a factor in future episodes. While we are repeatedly told he doesn't recognize people, I can't think of how any outcome may have been different here if he didn't have amnesia.

Jane's escape was unbelievable. She quickly assembles her outfit and then simply lifts the side of the tent. Worst. Guards. Ever.

Still, we get her into the traditional Jane garb and that is both good and necessary. It feels a little repetitive that three chapters in and we are ending on an animal attack again.

This episode was better than the second. My curiosity is piqued for the next installment.

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Queen Kelly (1929)

Directed by Erich von Stroheim
Starring Gloria Swanson, Walter Byron and Seena Owen
Produced by Gloria Swanson Pictures

Queen Regina V rules her small European kingdom with an iron hand. We are told she is mad, walking through the castle naked with only a lap cat to cover her.

Prince Wolfram is unofficially betrothed to the queen and he'd like to put off the wedding as long as possible. After Wolfram spends a night racing chariots with prostitutes, the queen commands the prince to spend the day in the field under the hot sun performing military maneuvers. She wants him ready for her "surprise" that night.

While traveling along the road with his men, Wolfram comes upon a group of nuns and their students. He is instantly attracted to Patricia Kelly, one of the girls studying at the convent. She is embarrassed when she loses a piece of clothing, but the prince ultimately helps her recover some of her dignity.

The prince arrives back at the castle and is informed of the queen's surprise during a feast. The couple will be married the next day. The frustrated prince decides to find Kelly for one last fling before the wedding.

Meanwhile, the nuns at the convent are punishing Kelly for her outburst with the prince. She forgoes dinner and must remain in the chapel for the evening praying.

The prince and his friend sneak into the convent to find Kelly. This quickly proves fruitless as the building has too many rooms. Instead, Wolfram light a fire and pulls the smoke alarm. The panicked nuns begin evacuating when the prince spies Kelly. She faints and Wolfram abducts her.

Now, back at the prince's suite in the castle, the two begin talking over dinner. What begins as a tryst blossoms into true love.

Unfortunately, the queen discovers them and chases Kelly from the castle, flogging her the entire way. A despairing Kelly throws herself into the river but is rescued by a passerby.

Will the prince go ahead with the wedding? And what will Kelly do when she receives a telegraph from her dying aunt asking her to come to an African brothel to marry a wealthy, but creepy plantation owner?


Huh?

Yeah.

Okay.

Yes, that really happens in this movie. To be fair, the original plan for this film was quite different. Von Stroheim envisioned a four-plus hour epic centered mainly around Kelly's life in Africa. Swanson became increasingly frustrated with the director and the script. And the studio was only too happy to stop production one-third of way through. After all, the producers knew that in a world where audiences were clamoring for sound, a four-hour silent would have trouble generating ticket sales.

So Von Stroheim was fired and production halted, leaving Swanson to try and salvage whatever she could.

And in salvaging what was, on paper, the prologue and drawing it out as a feature length movie, Queen Kelly slows to a molasses-in-winter crawl. Every piece of dialogue is followed by prolonged, meaningless glances. We get lengthy scenes explaining what the characters just did in the previous lengthy scene.

And when we downshift without a clutch into the aunt in Africa storyline, it's so jarring that the airbags deploy. There's never any set up that Kelly has other family, let alone an aunt that she would drop everything and globetrot for. It feels like another movie collided with the one I was watching.

It is right to chalk a lot of this up to the production issues. There are other problems here as well. I love seeing Gloria Swanson on screen. I think she's great. She is just terribly miscast here. She's a lot of things, but an innocent student at the convent is not one of them. She looks too old and there's a flirtatious quality to her acting which seems at odds with the character.

The prince seems like someone I am supposed to root for, but I don't know why. He's chasing around prostitutes and generally shirking his responsibilities instead of focusing on his betrothed and the kingdom he will be ruling.

The most ridiculous moment of the film comes when Wolfram sets a fire inside a convent essentially for a one night stand. On what planet is anything he does justified? If he were a teen, maybe you could forgive his attitude. But he's not. He's an immature man.

The only argument you can make that the prince is good is that he doesn't love the queen. And we are told she is bad. Told, not shown. In fact, before she whips Kelly, she doesn't do anything except expedite the wedding date. The whipping is in response to her future hubby cheating on her. The wedding date comes after she sees her prince carousing with hookers. Remind me again: who is the bad guy here? Other than her unintentionally hilarious habit of throwing her cat when angered, the queen hardly seemed evil.

On the positive side, the production design and camerawork are first rate. The palace is impeccably lavish, the convent sparse and dark. Von Stroheim is constantly framing his characters amongst candles and bed posts in ways that make you marvel at the composition.

I would love to review the film Von Stroheim may have made. Maybe he would have found a tighter story in editing. Then again, maybe 250 minutes of these characters would have killed me. Regardless, I can only review the Queen Kelly I've got. And that movie is sadly mediocre and slow.

*1/2 out of *****

Photo from The Studio Era

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Un Chien Andalou (1929)

Directed by Luis Buñuel
Starring Pierre Batcheff and Simone Mareuil



A man stands before a mirror sharpening his razor blade. He walk to the balcony and looks at the moon. A woman is sitting on the balcony. He grabs her head. She does not resist. He raises the razor and slices open her eye.


Cut to eight years later, and the man is wearing a nun's habit and riding a bike down the street. The woman looks out of the window of her apartment to see him fall over. She...

All right, I give up. Recapping Un Chien Andalou is a pointless exercise. The film is a series of disjointed scenes and images. There is:

A severed hand laying on the ground being poked by a woman with a cane who is in turn surrounded by police.

A man pulling two ropes that are attached to two pianos holding dead animals, two priests and two tablets (presumably the Ten Commandments).

A couple of young lovers walking a beach who moments later find themselves dead and half-buried in sand.

A man confronting another version of himself.

A mysterious, locked box.

Is it well done? Sure. It has a gothic horror music video aesthetic. Think David Cronenberg by way of Michael Bay.

What does it mean? Nothing. Everything. I imagine it will speak to people based on their own experiences and desires. Some parts spoke to me; others passed into the ether.

The only cinematic analogy I can think of to describe Un Chien Andalou is the Dark Side Cave from The Empire Strikes Back. What will you find in the film? "Only what you take with you."

**** out of *****

NOTE: For the scene where the eye is cut open, they used a dead calf eye.

At only 18 minutes long, this is an easy recommend.

Photo from LBFI

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Bowl of Serials: Tarzan the Tiger Ep. 2

Bowl of Serials delves into the world of movie serials in cinematic history, one episode at a time.  First up, Tarzan the Tiger, a 15 episode serial that ran in theaters weekly between 1929 and 1930.  The episodes starred Frank Merrill (Tarzan), Natalie Kingston (Jane), Al Ferguson (Werper), and Kithnou (La) and were directed by Henry MacRae.

Episode 2: The Road to Opar

When we last left our hero, Tarzan was on his way to retrieve the gold of Opar from the depths of the jungle when he was ambushed by Numa the lion. Meanwhile, his wife Jane was seized by Achmet Zet, a slaver and Tarzan's sworn enemy.

Tarzan makes short work of Numa and issues the Tarzan yell (tm) to rally the jungle animals to his cause.

Back at Zet's camp, our villain bring forward Jane to show her the future in some mystical sands. In the vision, Tarzan takes a spear through the chest and falls from the treetops. Zet issues an ultimatum: marry me or be sold as a slave.

Tarzan arrives at the Temple of the Sun Worshippers and opens the secret passage to the treasure chamber. Unbeknownst to our hero, the duplicitous Werper is following him. Tarzan finds the gold ingots and begins preparing to take them home.

Jane is brought back before Zet to make her choice. Before she can speak, a misoon arrives, threatening to blow the camp apart.

Back in the temple, lions are entering to escape the weather, forcing Werper deeper into the building. He stumbles into a ceremony led by the High Priestess La and is captured to be offered as a sacrifice.

Tarzan has loaded up the gold and tries exit when part of the temple collapses on him. Will he survive? And what will Jane decide?

After a great first episode, this one dragged a bit. Jane's story went nowhere. She was captured in the last chapter and here she has to make a decision that is conveniently interrupted by the weather. Nothing happens here.

Tarzan's tale was characterized by a lot of things that were just too easy. He kills the lion in a second, stars in a montage where he comically screams "Yeah!" as animals react, then poof!...he's at the temple. And conveniently, he is the only one who knows where the secret treasure entrance is. Why not make him work for it a little? And why scream to a phalanx of elephants, tigers and chimps and not use them.

After a crackling initial episode, things have slowed and I'm heading into the third chapter with trepidation.

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