The Silent Film Email

Original Title: Silent Film Email
Original Date Sent: August 13, 2011
Sent to: Various folks that I tend to whom I tend to send these things.
Context: Oh, no real reason. Had some downtime at work and wrote it over the course of a few days. I'm not even sure that this was requested or anything. The "subtle impetus" in the first paragraph was probably not along the lines of "Send a silent film email!" but rather, "That last email wasn't too bad. Do you think you'll ever send another?"

Hello Friends,

I have decided (with some subtle impetus) to write an email about
silent films. For those that missed my previous epic email (the rise
of pro wrestler CM Punk), fear not! This one will be just as dorky and
pointless.

Silent films are a last frontier of sorts for movie fans (I would say
Silent Films are THE last frontier, but foreign animation is way
harder to get into, in my opinion. It's kid of like how the depths of
the ocean have proven far more unconquerable than space). They require
a lot more attention, they are (in some cases) difficult to find, and
their glacial pacing can be a trial even to the most dedicated movie
watcher (I refuse to use the word "buff" in relation to anything
except making a car look shiny). But there are plenty of stand outs
that are not only rewarding but, in some cases, even easy to sit
through.

For the purposes of this email, I'm dividing the films into the two
traditional categories that the Greeks made up thousands of years ago:
Comedy and Tragedy. Now, I know what you're thinking. Something along
the lines of, "Damn it Mike Coast, City Lights is much closer to a
Tragedy than a Comedy. Just because it has Chaplin you think you can
shove it into a category with all his other stuff. I hate you and I
wished you'd stop clogging my inbox. I'm expecting an important work
email and I have to deal with your over-simplifications.
Unbelievable!" This is a completely justified criticism and one that
I'm happy to ignore.

So anyway, here's a list of Silent Movies that I think are exceptional
and that you may as well.

Comedy

I admit, there are only going to be three people represented here. I'm
not really up on my Charlie Chase, Max Linder, or early WC Fields
(though I'd love to do a Fields/Laurel & Hardy/Marx Bros. email in the
future). Sorry, but you'll have to make due with Chaplin, Keaton, and
Lloyd. I'm sure you'll be fine.

City Lights (1931) Dir. Charlie Chaplin - So, like I said earlier,
City Lights is technically a comedy but it's also a bit of a downer.
Chaplin falls in love with, and gets his heart broken by, a blind
girl. Hilarity ensues!

Modern Times (1936) Dir. Charlie Chaplin - Okay, this isn't actually a
silent film (it's been called a "mute" film), but it's close enough.
There are sounds from the machines, but no actual dialogue. They are
probably making a statement about how the past (silent characters,
embodied by Chaplin) are ill equipped to deal with the brave new world
of machines. Yeah, comedies can somehow speak about larger issues in
the world. Crazy, right? It's the Office Space of the 30's with less
rap music and an even deeper fear of copy machines.

The Gold Rush (1925) Dir. Charlie Chaplin - Chaplin eats his own shoe.
I liked it better when Werner Herzog did it myself. There is a
much-maligned version where Chaplin narrates the proceedings as they
happen. To me, it almost makes it funnier. Chaplin's proper English
voice saying things along the line of, "This cabin doesn't look like
much" gives it an even more antiquated air despite the fact that it
was designed for modern audiences (well, "modern" audiences of the
40's). In any case, it's a fun movie and you should see it.

The General (1926) Dir. Clyde Bruckman & Buster Keaton - When Jackie
Chan first broke in America, Roger Ebert compared him to Buster Keaton
every chance he got. No, not because Buster Keaton beat up guys with
refrigerators or included gag reels at the end of all his movies. It's
because they are both comedic stuntmen, putting their lives on the
line for a few chuckles from the audience. While Jackie Chan slides
down the side of a building in Hong Kong, Keaton rides on the front of
a train. The General isn't the funniest of Keaton's movies (and I'm
not even sold on it being the best), but the spectacle alone makes
this a must-see.

Our Hospitality (1923) Dir. John G. Blystone & Buster Keaton -
Probably Keaton's funniest movie. Takes place in the South where
Keaton runs afoul of a rival family. Much less stunt-heavy than most
of his films. Here Keaton gets laughs from the strength of the
situations and gags. It seems like this style of comedy is much more
prevalent in his shorts than in his features. So if you like this,
it's worth diving further into his catalogue.

Sherlock Jr. (1924) Dir. Buster Keaton - An honest-to-God surrealist
masterpiece. Keaton plays a movie projectionist who is transported
into the films that he is showing. It's a great mix of everything that
Buster Keaton does well placed within a truly interesting frame. It's
almost like something that would be the plot of a cartoon. It's also
one of those movies that especially dorky movie types love because of
the sheer joy it takes in the young art of cinema.

The Freshman (1925) Dir. Fred C. Newmeyer - Everyone knows Chaplin.
Less people know Keaton. Even fewer are aware of Harold Lloyd. His
films aren't as complete as Chaplin's and Keaton's, but they are just
as funny. This is probably his defining movie. Lloyd plays the plucky
All-American boy who goes off to college with dreams of women, sports,
and being the big man on campus. Predictably, he is not very good at
any of these things. But, full of the won't-take-no-for-an-answer
American spirit, Lloyd forges ahead with his dreams. Sidenote on Lloyd
: keep an eye on his hand. You'll find that it's quite obviously made
of wood in some scenes. This is because years before Lloyd was doing a
scene with one of those big round bombs that look over-the-top and
ridiculous. Well, that over-the-top, ridiculous bomb blew up in his
hand. Whoops! That makes the stunt he pulled in the following film
even more impressive...

Safety Last (1923) Dir. Fred C. Newmeyer & Sam Taylor - Remember that
scene in Back to the Future when Doc Brown hangs off the clocktower.
That's taken from this movie. The art of stealing in movies is always
a tricky subject (so tricky that we use the word homage instead, even
when bending the meaning of that word to its breaking point).
Tarantino has been accused of it many times (much of the look and plot
of Reservoir Dogs was taken from Hong Kong action film City on Fire,
for instance). The climactic confrontation in The Warriors is taken
shot for shot from Yojimbo. The restaurant scene in Ghost Train is
taken directly from David Lynch's Dune. It's part of what makes the
movie world go 'round. Oh yeah, the movie is funny too.

Tragedy

This is more like it. Silent Comedy is fun and translates much better
to the demands of modern audiences. But the grand tragedies of the of
the Silent Era are a glorious slog. Often with three or four hour
running times, these films bring rewards that are truly incredible and
speak volumes about the human experience without ever making a sound.

Battleship Potemkin (1925) Dir. Sergei Eisenstein - Hey, speaking of
"homages," Brian DePalma steals quite a bit from Potemkin in The
Untouchables. Make no mistake, this is a propaganda film, through and
through. It is also very much a product of its time when it comes to
acting, plot, and structure. Two things stand out though. Sergei
Eisenstein is credited with practically inventing modern editing
techniques. Everything flows so seamlessly and is so easy to
understand. Also, it provides a pace that is unmatched in its era
which makes it a little easier for impatient audiences to watch. The
other thing that really stands out here is the incredible Odessa Steps
sequence (I'm a fan and clearly DePalma is as well). It is an
incredibly violent depiction of Tsarist troops firing upon civilians
punctuated by the image of a baby carriage hurtling down the massive
stone steps. And the image of a man being shot through his glasses in
the eye has been used countless times, most notably in The Godfather.
It's a virtuoso sequence from one of the best directors to ever live.

Intolerance (1916) Dir. D.W. Griffith - Birth of a Nation is
overrated. Not because it's racist (it is), but because for every big
grand battle scene there are several awkward, terrible chamber pieces
between the family members and politicians and such. It's a Silent
Film almost begging for dialogue. Intolerance, on the other hand, is
where Griffith really shines as the premier filmmaker of his day. It's
almost shocking to see the level of violence, nudity, and chaos here.
The Babylon scenes in particular are fairly mind-blowing. The
intercutting between different stories with parallel themes served as
a model for later works such as The Fountain and The Godfather Part
II. The crew, actors, and extras were probably horribly abused
throughout filming and you can feel it in the finished product. Almost
like a pair of Nike's out of the sweatshop. You kinda feel dirty
wearing them, but what craftsmanship!

Metropolis (1927) Dir. Fritz Lang - Fritz Lang is one of the world's
great filmmakers. This is usually the first of his films to pop into
one's mind (and that's mostly because of the robot woman which may be
the single most iconic image of the Silent Era that doesn't involve a
Tramp eating a shoe or the front of a house falling around a guy who
happens to be standing in the right spot). If you're not familiar with
Fritz Lang beyond that, go watch M, Fury, Hangmen Also Die, The Big
Heat, and The Testament of Dr. Mabuse. I'll wait....There, now that
you've done that, you probably want to watch Metropolis. It's a sci-fi
epic of the highest order that cares far more about the relationship
of the proletariat (who literally dwell in the depths of the earth) to
the rich than to the futuristic elements of its story. The movement of
Expressionism in German film had been established before this in The
Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (worth seeing for the bizarre production
design that has been aped by Tim Burton in every movie of his but
Pee-Wee's Big Adventure) but is truly mastered by Lang. This is not
only one of the most influential film's of its era, but of all time.

The Last Laugh (1924) Dir. F.W. Murnau - Like Griffith, Murnau is
famous for the wrong movie. Yes, Nosferatu is good, iconic, and it was
cute when Willem DaFoe played the part as if it was a real vampire.
But the Last Laugh was an incredible step forward in cinema. For
instance, you're probably familiar with the concept that the camera
sometimes moves. This is a fairly common occurrence IN EVERY SINGLE
MOVIE. But that has not always been the case. Murnau (and I have no
way of backing this up) essentially invented the tracking shot. And he
did it in definitive and disturbing fashion, just like a German
Expressionist should. The story is about an old door man who loses his
job and with it his pride and purpose in life. I know, totally not
relatable to the modern day. Anyway, at one point the depths of his
anguish are so deep that he goes running through his slum while the
(very ugly) old women lean out their windows and laugh at him. The
camera, situated in front of Emil Jannings (who Tarantino kills off in
Inglourious Basterds), tracks backwards as he runs past window after
window. It's easy to take the technical side of it for granted now,
but it's hard to deny the emotional impact of the scene. The only
thing to be careful of here is that the version released in America
has a tacked on happy ending. See, it wasn't cocaine-fueled executives
in the 80's who started the trend of bastardizing foreign movies after
all.

The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) Dir. Carl Theodor Dreyer - To me,
this is the greatest silent film ever made. The claustrophobia, the
shots so close that you can read every line on an actor's face, the
incredible set design. It's a powerful film and not just because it
deals with religion (Dreyer's other great work, Ordet, is powerful
precisely because it deals with religion). At it's core, this is the
story of one human being who is about to lose her life. There isn't
even an element of the "crime she didn't commit." Sure, she is
officially burned as a witch. But remember, she was also a warrior,
the woman who led the French side during the Hundred Years War. And
she knows this and is resolved to it. The film is essentially her
acceptance of her imminent death with her faith as a tool of this
acceptance. Oh, and the lead actress never did another movie. I don't
even have a clever analogy for that.

The Man with the Movie Camera (1929) Dir. Dziga Vertov - A documentary
of film. Like, the art and craft of film. Basically, Vertov used every
camera trick he could think of to create a portrait of a city hurtling
into the modern age. I'd describe it more, but there's not really much
more to say. You kinda just have to experience it. Sit back and soak
it in. You come away marveling and how far in-camera special effects
had come in so short a time.

Nanook of the North (1922) Dir. Robert J. Flaherty - Another
documentary. This time it's about an Eskimo (I know that's not the
politically correct term but I can't remember the real one. Sorry.)
named Nanook who lives in the Arctic, kills seals, provides for his
family, and is generally just a badass. It was later revealed that
much of the action was staged. So I guess it's more like the first
Reality Show. The approach to the material is a little dated. Well,
maybe a lot dated. But we tend to give these films a pass as far as
morality goes and in the grand scheme of things, Nanook is fairly
innocuous.

Greed (1924) Dir. Erich von Stroheim - The complete, 10 hour version
of this movie is one of the holy grails of the film world. Others
include the original cut of The Magnificent Ambersons, a complete
version of Metropolis (they recently found 40 minutes of incredible
footage that has just been re-released. This movie is like Tupac), and
Jerry Lewis's epic Holocaust disaster The Day the Clown Cried. The
existing version of Greed is only four hours. It's long and slow
(remember that grand slog I mentioned earlier?) but it's also easy to
see how it could be even better with an extra six hours. In essence,
it would be like watching an entire miniseries in one sitting. The
story tracks a family's rise to the world of wealth and subsequent
collapse back into poverty. The end of the film is one of the best
ever. I don't want to spoil it, but it finds the characters going
West. It ends in such perfect, terrifying fashion that it makes the
whole four hours worth the wait. Occasionally, there are moments in
film where I am overjoyed, even enraptured, that I've chosen to pursue
a career in this field. The end of Greed is one of those moments.

The Iron Horse (1924) Dir. John Ford - John Ford is an unquestioned
legend. He won four Oscars for Best Director, launched John Wayne's
career, and made some of the most influential films of all time. This
is a very early display of his talents. It's essentially the story of
how the railroads played a big part in conquering the West. It's a
little antiquated in its attitudes (if you think The Searchers is
racist...), but it's also a great display of Ford's early work and a
harbinger of the powerhouse that he would become.

That's all I've got for now. If you made it this far, thanks for reading.

Mike Coast

PS - As usual, feel free to forward this if you know anyone who wants
to read about Silent Film or just has way too much time on their
hands.