Back to God's Country

This is an entertaining old-fashioned melodrama starring Nell Shipman, a good adventure heroine who can do a lot of different things. Here, she is a nature-loving young woman whose husband's work takes her away from the wildlife she loves, but while she is longing to get "Back to God's Country", she must first try to save herself and her husband from some dastardly villains.

There's quite a bit to the story. The drawbacks are that it is a little slow early on while it sets everything up, and then once the action gets going there are some rather implausible developments. But the plot keeps your attention, and Shipman has plenty of energy and is a nice change-of-pace from more conventional heroines. The story takes place in the frozen north of Canada, and the setting is interesting and works well. There are also several good shots of wild animals, a couple of them very funny.

"Back to God's Country" combines some of the usual features of silent melodrama with Shipman's distinctive approach. Most of it works pretty well, and it's worth a look for those who like silents.

It's a thrill to see this excellent film on video (Milestone, 2000). Nell Shipman was an extraordinary woman and it's great to see her work being made available to a wide audience. The scenes of her with wild animals, part of the menagerie she kept in northern Idaho, are extraordinary, and the climactic chase is very suspenseful. The restoration by D.J. Turner of the National Archives of Canada is wonderful, and the music by Phil Carli is appropriate. Alternate piano scores for this and Something New, Shipman's wacky car chase film, from live performances, available from me.

The plot is pretty uneven in terms of structure and some of the supporting performances are a touch on the hammy side, but BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY is too much fun to dismiss. Nell Shipman plays a nature-loving woman who is as far from the damsel-in-distress cliche as you can get. (Yes, there were strong female characters before the 21st century!) She's no fool, able to hold her own when pursued by villains. In fact, her husband's more of a distressed damsel (or in this case, distressed dude, I suppose) than she!

It is interesting to see Dolores LeBeau (Nell Shipman) participate in two roles in this movie, one being the pseudo-nude scene, and other being the role of female heroine. The former was certainly written into the script to draw male viewers to the movie houses. It cannot be seen that she is wearing a body suit, so one is given to their imagination. More importantly, however, is the latter - the female heroine - which was rare during that time.

The movie has several questional elements in the plotline (why does 'Sealskin' Blake have no trouble killing a Canadian Mountie, but cannot bring himself to overtly kill Dolores LeBeau's husband?), but the movie has several special effects (tinted film, scene within a scene) that make it worthwhile viewing.

For as worthy as any given film may be, sometimes reading about their history, from conception to execution, can be just as gratifying. In learning about this 1919 feature one quickly gains a sense of how special it is in various ways, bolstering our anticipation of watching. It should be mentioned that as soon as we do we're greeted with evidence of how early cinema doesn't always age well, for there is some outdated language that today we plainly recognize as racist, and there's a smidgen of blackface employed here, too. One would be remiss not to also observe that early exposition is decidedly gawky as scenes and intertitles clumsily bounce to and fro to impart tidbits of foundational information; the incidence within the first several minutes is unfortunate. Then, of course, there are the customary questions of different film-making techniques and storytelling sensibilities, facets which can be obstacles for some modern viewers when regarding the silent era; in no few instances this at least means direction, acting, and/or narrative flow that are less fluid and natural. All this is to say that whatever else is true of this picture, it might not be the one to change the minds of those who have a hard time engaging with older cinema.

The good news, however, is that however much we may him and haw about various aspects, by and large 'Back to god's country' is splendidly well made and a fine credit to those involved. Reflecting the interests of author James Oliver Curwood, scribe behind root short story "Whapi, the Walrus," and star and screenwriter Nell Shipman, it's readily apparent that this movie was made in no small part with a mind for showcasing the splendor of the natural world. The production makes a point of putting a number and variety of animals in front of the camera, and moreover the filming locations for this Canadian gem are utterly gorgeous. The surrounding environs play a crucial, meaningful role in the saga, not unlike what we'd see in filmmaker David Hartford's later Curwood adaptation 'Nomads of the north,' and for my part I'm reminded somewhat of a similar yet even more intense approach taken by Swedish legend Victor Sjöström (see 'Terje Vigen' or 'The outlaw and his wife,' among others). The sets, costume design, and hair and makeup were all rendered with great care and detail, and those stunts and effects that we see are terrific - not to mention unquestionably more dangerous at this point in the medium than if they were to be attempted in subsequent years with developing techniques, technology, and standards.

The direction and cinematography here may be slightly less refined, but Hartford again demonstrates a keen mind for getting the most out of any given moment, whatever the mood, and Dal Clawson and Joseph Walker's eyes ensure that we get eyefuls of all the minutiae to be had. Meanwhile, it's sometimes been said of the silent era, if not also early talkies, that such fare boasts less complex storytelling and is marked by "simpler entertainment for a simpler time." Given the relative forthrightness and crudeness of some of the plot in this instance, and the comparative lack of polish, I don't think it's unfair to say that 'Back to god's country' generally represents an example of this. Yet this is no inherent mark against the title, and still I think Shipman is to be commended for a fine screenplay. To whatever extent we might note some inelegance in the doing, the characters and scene writing are strong and pronounced, and the overall story is firmly compelling in its own right. It's also definitely noteworthy that by Shipman's hand her character Dolores is made to be the protagonist, playing an increasingly bold, heroic role, in sharp contrast with the opportunities presented to women in many contemporary works. I would even say that as the length progresses the tale finds more strength and cohesion, and as if it weren't already before, the back end is compelling and satisfying, with more discernible cleverness and nuance in every way. Not just the storytelling but even the direction and cinematography find their feet and make the most of it when their power is needed most, with marvelous results.

Rounded out with flavorful tinting, and acting that is admirable (if not specifically remarkable), when all is said and done the film really is a minor treasure, and it's easy to see why it's held in such high esteem, especially in Canada. I don't think it's perfect, for among other little elements Curwood's titular figure Whapi is reduced to a bit part; Shipman very slyly reconfigured the plot to center Dolores, but it's still obvious that Whapi is somewhat shortchanged, and in turn, in some measure, the whole. As much as the flick ultimately stands tall on its own, and comes into its own in the last stretch, one can't help but feel that there's a level of ungainliness to the construction that means the sum total doesn't carry the full weight that it ideally should. Nevertheless, part of me even feels bad for suggesting imperfection, because it's hard not to be a tad impressed: I don't think there's much arguing that the production was rather ambitious, taking a woman-led tale of adventure to far-flung destinations and enacting somewhat complex stunts and sequences at a time when the very enterprise of film-making was still finding its proverbial legs. For any manner in which the feature could be said to bear a weakness or shortcoming, far more than not there is so very much to love in these seventy-some minutes, and its lasting value and the stamp that it left on a growing medium far outweigh any faults we might pinpoint. Criticisms are reasonable, but I sit here after watching and can only think of how superb it was.

We all have our personal preferences, and I can understand how the silent era won't appeal to all comers; I'd have said the same myself at one time. If you're receptive to all that cinema has to offer, however, and looking for something a little off the beaten path, then I firmly believe that 'Back to god's country' broadly holds up (with footnotes) as an excellent picture that remains well worth exploring. Be aware of those ways in which it may not be totally flawless, but I quite love it and I'm happy to give my very high and hearty recommendation!