Film Notes - TSFF2021

 “There is no single number for existing American silent-era feature films, as the surviving copies vary in format and completeness. There are 1,575 titles (14%) surviving as the complete domestic-release version in 35mm, another 1,714 (11%) are complete, but not the original -they are either a foreign-release version in 35mm or in a 28 or 16mm small-gauge print. Another 562 titles (5%) are incomplete -missing either a portion of the film or an abridged version. The remaining 70% are believed to be completely lost…For every film that survives, there are half a dozen that do not, and for every classic that is seen today, many more of equal importance at the time are now missing and presumed lost.” -The Survival of American Silent Feature Films 1912-1929 by David Pearce
 The re-emergence of The Gold Diggers, a film unseen by audiences since 1923 and thought lost until quite recently stands as a beacon for the possibility of other forgotten films returning and a happy move from the “70%+ lost” column list to the “found column” (abet in the 5% incomplete list). The storyline is fortunately intact with the still lost scenes from a couple of reels told through minimal intertitles.
 With so many films having been lost and passed from memory over the past century, the occasional find is always noted and embraced. That the lost film in question was in startlingly good condition and on nitrate puts it in the miracle category. But while the finding of a lost film, any lost film, is cause for celebration, the fact that The Gold Diggers was a top tier film from a major studio and the first film made from the hit play that inspired numerous remakes and with excellent production values and strong cast makes it that much more memorable. How it was found reads like the plot of every film lover’s dream-Josh Cattermole will explain it in his filmed introduction.
 The film is based on the hit 1919 Broadway show also called The Gold Diggers by Avery Hogwood (the “Neil Simon” of his day). The play’s producer was the legendary David Belasco, who also produced the film. While not inventing the term “gold digger” (an earlier common usage referred to people who mine gold which then morphed into men who sought young pretty chorus girls), the play certainly popularized the term in reference to women who sought wealthy partners via their charms. The play starred Ina Claire in the lead role and premiered at the Lyceum Theatre on West 45^th Street on September 30^th, 1919. It stayed for 2 seasons with 720 performances before going on tour until 1923. The Lyceum Theatre, built in 1903, is considered the oldest continuously operated legitimate theatre on Broadway.  It was also the first Broadway Theatre to be granted landmark status.
 When it came to making the hit play into a hit movie, David Belasco turned to Warner Bros. as his studio of choice and in keeping with his hit play, he also produced the film. Ina Claire was initially supposed to star but she had commitments elsewhere. The Gold Diggers (1923), budgeted for $280,000 grossed over half a million at the box office and spawned a mini series of films with the Gold Digger theme.
 This was the only silent version. The next one, The Gold Diggers of Broadway in 1929, was a talkie (listed as lost) and then came the version that most know the name from, The Gold Diggers of 1933. The Gold Digger franchise continued with Gold Diggers of 1935, the Gold Diggers of 1937, and then finished up the next year the Gold Diggers in Paris. Only the two filmed in the 1920s bear any relation to the play.
   Hope Hampton 1897-1982
 Starting out her film career in 1920 Hope starred in numerous silent films before retiring from the screen at the start of the sound era (although she did return in 1938 for The Road to Reno directed by her husband) But she also had early voice training and after her film career, she turned to opera, debuting with the Philadelphia Opera. In later years she became known as the “Duchess of Park Avenue”, very much a matriarch of the New York social set, living from the 1920s to her death in her glamorous 5 story Park Avenue townhouse, known for her gorgeous wardrobe of gowns, wearing mounds of jewelry and for her prominence on opening nights and on the society pages.
 In 1978, she was crowned “Queen of the Beaux Arts Ball”. She died a few years later of a heart attack at the age of 84 lamenting the fact that glamour had left opening nights.
 Wyndham Standing 1880-1963 British born into a prolific acting family, Wyndham worked steadily in films from 1915 right up until the end of the 40s. in over 130 films from this film to Hell’s Angels to Meet John Doe.
 Louise Fazenda 1895-1962 Fazenda got her start in comedy shorts as early as 1913 with Joker Studios, but soon caught the attention of Mack Sennett and moved to his Keystone Studios where her star rose. As with many other actors at that famous studio, she left seeking greener pastures. By the start of the sound era, she was a well respected and well paid actor, making both short and feature films at all the big studios. While she appeared mostly in comedy and musicals, she had superior skills as a character actor. She was once accurately described as a plain-looking woman but a highly gifted character comedienne.  In 1927 Fazenda married Warner Brothers' producer Hal B. Wallis, a union which lasted until her death. After retiring in 1939, she spent the remainder of her years as an art collector. Louise was last seen at TSFF in the Keystone comedy Hearts and Flowers (1919).

 Our last 1000 LAFFS focused on Mack Sennett, and as much heralded as the “King of Comedy” among silent film producers, I have to give the edge for that crown to Hal Roach.
 While Sennett’s studio, best known today for its fast, furious and frantic slapstick, might be termed “The Laugh Factory”, the Hal Roach Studio was christened “The Lot of Fun” by the actors, directors, writers, script girls and carpenters who worked there. Because, well, working there was a lot of fun.
 And it shows on the screen.
 Hal Roach’s unique character-driven brand of comedy separated him from all comers, and anyone who saw the promise and nurtured the likes of Harold Lloyd, Laurel & Hardy and Our Gang definitely knew what he was doing. Nobody’s comedies of the era compared to Hal Roach’s.
 In our programme, we’ll be sampling five of his most successful series over the span of a decade. Trust me, it was tough to pick the cream of the crop – there’s enough to choose from to schedule 10,000 LAFFS.
 Harold Lloyd. The man with the glasses clutching onto a giant clockface 20 stories into the sky – that’s Harold Lloyd, Roach’s first “star” and ultimately one of the greatest comedy stars of the silent era, generally besting Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton at the box office. But it took him a long time to get there. Roach and Lloyd were a couple of bit player buddies when Roach came into a small inheritance and decided to make his own movies with Harold as the star. Success grew slowly as Harold cranked out more than five dozen “Lonesome Luke” comedies – a Chaplinsque wannabe who was popular enough, but on a one-way trip to Nowheresville. Lloyd ditched the funny clothes and moustache and put on a tidy suit and pair of specs. The new Harold was a fresh, All-American Boy with plenty of pep. But there was something else… in a word, “normalcy”.
 Lloyd would quickly move on to feature films like Grandma’s Boy, The Freshman, The Kid Brother, Speedy, the list goes on. He left Roach when he wrapped up Safety Last (the one with the clock) on the friendliest of terms.
 Young Mr. Jazz (1919) is a film whose title pretty much sums up Harold Lloyd in three words. He’s brimming with vim, vigour and vitality, a character created by the jazz age and representing everything it promised.  The girl (there’s always a girl) is Bebe Daniels, soon to find superstardom with Cecil B. Demille. Snub Pollard – with his Kaiser Wilhelm moustache and arched eyebrows, still looking like a refugee from a pie fight – rounds out the trio.
 Our Gang. Best remembered today as “The Little Rascals” (their TV sobriquet), Our Gang had a long run of silent success long before Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla, Porky and Buckwheat were a glimmer in their parents’ eyes. The story goes that Roach gazed out his office window one day, saw a bunch of kids cavorting in a vacant lot and had a “eureka” moment. More likely he was trying to find a better use for his charming child star Ernie “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison, thought to be the first African-American performer signed to a long-term Hollywood contract. Sunshine Sammy was joined by Mickey Daniels, Mary Kornman, Joe Cobb, Jackie Condon and Allen “Farina” Hoskins as a foundation for a series that would last from 1922 to 1944. (Bested only by The Three Stooges as the longest-running short subject series in Hollywood history. Do with that information what you will.)
 The Big Show (1923) is an archetypal Gang outing, one where they see something built by grownups and say, “We can do that!” In this case it’s a county fair, complete with rides, performing animals, and a movin’ pitcher show with the kids imitating Harold Lloyd, Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks, William S. Hart, Mary Pickford… well, you name ‘em.
 Charley Chase. Chase (born Charles Parrott) was a Mack Sennett bit player (a little too “normal” for Keystone comedies) and blossoming director before arriving at the Hal Roach Studios as Director-General. Essentially, the guy in charge.
 When Harold Lloyd left the studio, Roach sought out another “All-American Regular Fellow” and Charley stepped into the role; first as a jittery character named Jimmy Jump, then as the equally alliterative Charley Chase — a fellow equally at home as a henpecked hubby or a bon vivant around town. Chase’s particular brand of character-driven situational comedy defined the Roach “house style” for a greater part of the ‘20s, and his career at Roach lasted well into the talkies, where his singing and dancing skills
 Mighty Like a Moose (1926) is a typical Chase farce; comic complications abound as man and wife step out on each other – with each other. (You have to see it to get it.)
 As with most of Charley’s shorts, there’s a little bit of Roaring 20’s naughtiness thrown in. In 2007, Mighty Like A Moose was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress, which recognizes American films deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant." ^{Oh, and it’s funny too.}
 Stan Laurel & Oliver Hardy. If Hal Roach is remembered for anything, it’s likely as the one producer who saw the potential of “Mr. Laurel & Mr. Hardy” and gave them free rein to develop and grow their characters into what’s now universally acknowledged as the greatest comedy duo ever on the screen. They took Chase’s cue and slowed down the slapstick, basing the humour around two befuddled buddies caught up in a slightly off-kilter but relatable real world. (The guiding principle, to quote Stan Laurel in one of their later talkies, being “It could happen.”)
 Liberty (1929) sees Stan & Ollie taking on Harold Lloyd’s “high and dizzy” and making it their own; the danger doubled because both are skittering about the skyscraper beams. What gets them up there? A surprisingly risqué twist on their trademark “hat switching” routine – with pants instead of derbies. And there’s a crab. Don’t ask.  Oh, see if you can spot Jean Harlow in here.
 Hal Roach’s All-Stars. The “Lot of Fun” was populated by probably the greatest ensemble of second bananas in the history of comedy. Not quite stars but put them all together and you’ve got All-Stars.
 The series actually began with Roach hiring on-the-wane dramatic stars and using their marquee value for short subjects. Theda Bara, Anna May Wong, Lionel Barrymore, Priscilla Dean, Harry Myers, Mildred Harris – even Mae Busch, she of The Unholy Three, Souls For Sale, and Von Stroheim’s Foolish Wives – found themselves with top billing in two-reelers.
 Ultimately, the series morphed into a playground for folks like Jimmy “D’oh” Finlayson, Edgar “Slow Burn” Kennedy, Max Davidson, Martha Sleeper, Spec O’Donnell, Edna Marian, Eugene Pallette and yes, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy until they eclipsed them all became THE stars on the Roach lot.
 Surprise Anita Garvin & Marion Byron Comedy (1928). With the success of Laurel & Hardy, Roach sat back and said “I’ve got it! What if we had another Laurel & Hardy – except they’re pretty girls!”. (Well, I’m guessing he said that.) The result was the pairing of statuesque and smouldering Anita Garvin with petite and oh-so-sweet Marion Byron (Buster Keaton’s love interest in Steamboat Bill, Jr.). While the series might have tried a bit too hard to at copycatting Stan & Ollie, the chemistry was there, and the three films Anita and Marion made together are just plain delightful.
 Look for some of those familiar faces adding to the fun in this one.  
 Enjoy the show. And have a lot of fun. -Programmer/Presenter Chris Seguin

 “Glamour is what I sell, it’s my stock in trade, I am not a myth.”
 The sentiments voiced by Marlene Dietrich may have been sincere, may have even been what she believed of herself, but mythology is part of the movie’s stock in trade since day one. The movies create it, commodify it, mold it over the years to fit the changing tides or to act as bulwark against the changing tides. Dietrich knew that more than most and she started her myth making of herself early in her career.
 One part of the Dietrich mythology was her insistence for years that she never did silent films and that it was Josef von Sternberg who created her. Wonderful stories no doubt, and certainly much more quotable than the reality.
 The Woman One Longs For was her second starring role in what was close to a decade working in the German film industry. It’s a fine example of the late silent period both in direction by Curtis (Kurt) Bernhardt, with a noir like structure, heavily influenced at times by German expressionism and punctuated by solid performances.
 The story was adapted by Ladislaus Vajda from the Max Brod novel and centers on Henri Leblanc (Henning), the young industrial heir who, due to the misfortunes of his family business, allows himself to be trapped in an arranged marriage for that sake. About to embark on his honeymoon, he spies Stascha (Dietrich) on the same train as he’s travelling with his new wife. He becomes wholly obsessed, leaves his wife, and follows her. But she is not alone. She appears to be bonded by some dark secret to a rather sadistic Dr. Karoff. Henri plots to remove him so they can be together.
 It's ultimately an ever-tightening circle of people who want to escape their relationships and, as with all circles, the tension mounts as they spiral into the core where tragedy lives.
 Director Curtis (Kurt) Bernhardt may not be as well-known as his other contemporary German filmmakers like Lang, Murnau or Pabst, but he was just as accomplished in the art expressing the story through visuals. You’ll note that several passages are even devoid of intertitles, as none were needed to forward the story, and his keen expressionist styling can be remarked to that effect in some early scenes and at the New Year’s Eve Party.  As it was with many Europeans and especially German filmmakers, he ended up in Hollywood. There, he continued a notable career directing films such as Sirocco, Miss Sadie Thompson, and Beau Brummell.
 But all eyes are on Dietrich as we can see the progression of her mystique-from her stillness at times to the camera lingering longer than one thinks completely necessary on her famous legs. It’s all there. In some ways it was the culmination of what she had been working on for quite some time, testing her image with key overhead spots highlighting those famous cheekbones and de-emphasizing what she considered a less than perfect upturned nose (spending a considerable amount of time working on that in Berlin photobooths). So noted was she in this department, that years later, Hitchcock permitted her to set her lighting for her scenes in Stage Fright (1950), the only actor he would ever allow do so saying, “she knows better than cinematographer how to light her”. The best was yet to come for Dietrich but all the groundwork had been done.  
 When the film opening, the German critics were less than enthusiastic about her performance (“expressionless malice in every look”) and Dietrich was crushed. However, her performance found sympathetic audiences when the film opened in the US under the title Three Loves, as both the critics and public were impressed. The New York Times wrote, “(It) possesses the kind of direction that makes American film magnates cable contracts abroad …. In addition, it boasts of a noteworthy performer in the person of Fritz Kortner, and a rare Garboesque beauty in Marlene Dietrich”.
 Dietrich remained busy, working on a couple more films and going back on stage so it wasn’t until September 1929 that Josef von Sternberg spotted Dietrich in a revue and knew he had found his Lola.  This film was restored in 2012 by the Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau Stiftung.
 Preceded by: Cinderella 1922
 Made just a few years before her masterpiece The Adventures of Prince Achmed (TSFF2010), Cinderella showcases Lotte Reiniger’s trademark delicate silhouettes. But be warned, there’s some spicier than expected intertitle language and some very un-Disney violence involved all harkening back to the origin story by Charles Perrault in 1697 and Grimms Fairy Tales in 1812.