La caduta di Troia

A reconstructed print of this mini-epic was shown this spring at the Tribeca Film Festival, in Lower Manhattan. The Fall of Troy was the work of Giovanni Pastrone, the director who went on to make the highly influential feature-length epic Cabiria two years later; it's said that the success of this film persuaded him to take on the far more ambitious project for which he's best remembered. Here Pastrone tells the story of the ten year Trojan War in about ten minutes, in a series of tableau-like scenes. Stylistically, the production switches back and forth from the stage technique of the day (i.e. painted backdrops, operatic acting) to the more naturalistic style made possible by the cinema (i.e. outdoor scenes, and real items used as props). Helen's seduction of Paris in a lavish royal garden opens the film in a fairly restrained fashion, but it's followed by a fantastic, dreamlike image of the runaway lovers fleeing Greece in a kind of flying chariot drawn by cherubs. When the Greeks gather their forces to sail to Troy we can see that their boats are real and that this is no stage set: right before our eyes the soldiers actually launch their (rather small) boats on a body of water. The actors' costumes and other trappings are quite lavish for this era of film-making. The most memorable moment comes when, after years of fighting -- which must be briskly implied, of course, given the brief running time -- the Greeks build their wooden horse and withdraw to the woods. The image of the enormous horse looming over the beach must have greatly impressed audiences in 1911. Unfortunately, this sense of grandeur is undercut in the scene that follows, when the Trojans pull the horse within their gates. Once the "wooden" horse is inside we can see all too clearly that it is a stage contrivance of canvas flats. When the Greeks start popping out the scene becomes unintentionally comic, suggestive of those little clown cars in the circus that hold an impossible number of people.

The print of The Fall of Troy shown at the festival was pieced together from several sources. The film ends after Troy has fallen to the Greeks, when Helen is brought before her husband Menelaus. In the final moments she appears to beg for mercy as he turns away. Whether or not the film originally ended with their reconciliation is impossible to say, unless a more complete print is found. Over all, this film represents a great leap forward for the cinema in almost every department, from visual effects to the comparatively restrained acting style -- that is, aside from one over-excited actor who played a messenger in wildly histrionic fashion, drawing chuckles from the festival crowd. And apparently a crew member in contemporary clothes is visible at the edge of the frame during one battle scene, although I didn't see him myself. Even so, viewers familiar with very early movies that relate classical tales, such as Ferdinand Zecca's 1903 version of Samson and Delilah, will recognize that Pastrone was far ahead of his contemporaries, and the proof can be found in his subsequent work.

Huge movie spectacles recreating historical events, especially during ancient times, were and still are largely popular in the past as well as today. The "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, even "Black Panther," can trace the roots of their lavish productions to March 1911's "The Fall of Troy." This Italian two-reeler introduced the public to the epic cinematic genre, where literally a cast of thousands (actually 800 extras) recreated the events described in Virgil's Aeneid.

Co-directed by Giovanni Pastrone, who reorganized the movie studio company Itala Film to begin thinking big, was able to pull off the big production, something no movie maker had done before. He even sent his film crew and actors to the grounds of Troy to replicate some scenes illustrating the typography of Virgil's story.

The battle sequences in "The Fall of Troy" mesmerized international audiences with their historical authenticity and excitement. The recreation of the giant horse housing Grecian soldiers was totally believable on the screen. The movie was wildly successful in Europe and in the United States. This success allowed Itala Film to open a small production studio in New York. Pastrone went on to produce a more lavish and more ambitious film a few years later in the highly influential "Cabiria."

Fans of D. W. Griffith's 1916 "Intolerance," acknowledged as one of the greatest silent movies ever made, will see similarities in the battle scenes of "The Fall of Troy" and the Babylonian sequences in "Intolerance." Griffith was a big fan of Italian epics.

In 1911, three Italian films wowed the world with their technical quality, large sets and use of large casts: "L'inferno", "Gerusalemme liberata" and "La Caduta di Troia". Director Giovanni Pastrone goes beyond the usual technique of the time of portraying historical films in front of painted backdrops. He ordered parts of Troy used in the scenes to be reconstructed thus giving the film depth of scene rarely seen at the time. Audiences were amazed and the film was a huge commercial success.

But even more than just the huge sets, Pastrone shows his skill with utilizing the extra space effectively. Actors moved from the back to the front in leisurely fashion and the camera utilizes deep-focus photography so that every object or person is always in focus no matter whether located at the back or at the front. A technical masterpiece for it's time and a film that set new standards.

A 28 minute version can be found on the "Cineteca Milano" web-site which is close to the film's original length. Well-worth hunting down to get a true appreciation of this film.

A very interesting film, considering it was made in 1911. I read somewhere it was very important, after its distribution in the U. S., for the further development of American cinema. Lavish sceneries, impressive sets, wonderful photography will be acknowledged even nowadays. What will be less appealing for today's audiences is - I think - the acting style.

As is often the case in the films of the period - after the early inception of motion pictures, but before their more uniform routinized productions of the '20s - film-makers had to face the problem of conveying meaning. Theatre was a model; but in films you didn't have the assistance of the spoken language. Before some more cinematic patterns were discovered and utilized (close-ups, just to name one) one could only rely on gestures. The usual cinematic shot of the period is the so-called wide shot, that shows the entire human figure; the movements and gestures that are possible, and visible, in this wide shot are those of the arms and legs.

That's why in "La caduta di Troia" we see all of the actors display an uninterrupted sequence of ample arm movements. It's like we just jumped in a Gym Class for Elders. Some of those movements and gestures are still intelligible today, as stereotyped significants for some emotions. Most of them are not, unfortunately.

Paride arrives at the court of Troy as an ambassador. With the help of Venus (superimposed), Parie kidnaps Elena, who is at first hesitant. To get revenge, the Greeks declare war on Troy. The Trojans fall into the trap of the Greeks of the wooden horse, which is introduced into the city by breaking down the gates. The Greeks hidden in the horse set fire to the city while the others burst through the knocked down door. Paris is killed while trying desperately to escape. The multiplicity of actors and dynamic scenes anticipate the kolossal "Cabiria" (1915) and become a feature of the Italian historical film that inspires directors like Griffith in movies like "Birth of nation" (1915) and "Intolerance" (1916). The musical accompaniment is by Antonio Coppola.