Beau Geste

A well-directed melodrama with a near-flawless cast. Director Herbert Brenon (or his editor) lets the story unfold at a steady but never slow pace, nicely managing the suspense, but giving you perhaps too much time to ponder some of the oddities that crop up in the plot. Why, for instance, when everyone is standing in a room from which a valuable jewel has just been stolen by a culprit who is clearly still present, do they not simply search the room? Why do the three brothers, each separately on the run, condemn themselves to joining the French Foreign Legion (simultaneously, no less!) if all of them know they're not guilty of any great crime and thus consciously ignore their family's desperate financial straits? They could have at least sent some of their Legion pay back home to mother.

Those Legionnaires got paid a wad of dough because -- in real life, anyhow -- they were brutal, mercenary killers employed by an imperialist power to wipe out Arabs and anybody else who got in its way. Not that the Arabs were such nice guys either but, of course, the film presents all this with the complexity of a cowboys-and-Indians B western. Having your hero join the Legion with no qualms is sort of like having your hero join the Ku Klux Klan, except that the Klan wasn't as efficient a group of racist mass-murderers.

Absurdities and implausiblities aside, the film holds its grip pretty well, not because of epic elements like mobs of attacking Arabs, shots of marvelously oppressive desert vistas, etc., but because of the unstressed acting amidst all the mayhem and intrigue. I tend to agree with the critic who wrote that, in the 1939 version, Gary Cooper merely played Gary Cooper but that, in the '26 version, Ronald Colman embodied Beau Geste. Everyone else is fine and if the villain is over-the-top, it's certainly forgivable on this occasion.

There's a lot of bugling in these French Foreign Legion pictures and whoever accompanies this long silent will have to struggle to stay in perfect sync with all the various fanfares, especially a necessary rendition of "Taps" near the climax.

Beau Geste (BG) is a Classic of the Silent Screen honored in its own time as a movie great. It was remade successfully in one particular sound version that also resulted in similar acclaim. Most (but not all) such silent films involved epic stories that benefitted in their re-telling because of Hollywood's technological advances in better cameras, improvements in the use of color and modern achievements in sound fidelity. In the case of BG, the subsequent sound remake directed by William A. Wellman in 1939 is fondly remembered today by many people. However, it closely follows BG in its unique narrative presentation, and does not surpass the acting and set design accomplishments of the original version.

The list is long of such silent movie classics that were followed by acclaimed remakes. It includes, among others, Ben-Hur (original 1925, remake 1959); Stella Dallas (original also with Ronald Colman 1925, remake 1937); The Ten Commandments (original 1923, remake 1956); The Prisoner of Zenda (original 1913 and 1922, remake also with Ronald Colman 1937); The Man in the Iron Mask (originally titled The Iron Mask 1929, remake 1939); The Thief of Bagdad (original 1924, remake 1940); The Three Musketeers (original 1921, remake 1948); and Disraeli (original 1921 and remake 1929 both with George Arliss). There were other remake versions of these silent film classics, but the ones cited here are the most famous.

As for BG, it was an achievement then praised by the novel's author, Percival Christopher Wren, when he said that "it couldn't have been cast better." The film cost over one million dollars to make in 1926, which was a phenomenal amount of money at that time. Oscars were not first given out until the following year, but BG did win a Photoplay Gold Medal----then Hollywood's most honored competitive award. Shot on location in the Arizona desert outside Yuma (exactly like the 1939 remake), the filming presented a difficult and challenging experience for all concerned. But the final result produced a bona fide timeless classic that thrills us to this very day. It is one of the greatest action films of all time.

BG was also a seminal event in the career of Ronald Colman. In it, he perfected his image of the decent, brave and honorable man of valor, whose code of personal behavior allowed him to reach heights of greatness and nobility of character. He would go on to hone this image in numerous subsequent movies, and do so with considerable charm and charisma. While Leslie Howard also developed somewhat similar qualities in many of his own screen roles, Colman could project more physicality in his performances and therefore was probably the more versatile actor of the two.

Audiences watching BG cannot help but be moved by the power of this film and its rousing narrative. It is not to be missed.

Both this original and the Wellman remake are marvellous Golden Age films - it's difficult to compare silents with talkies, or either to the book. In the book you use your imagination, this 1926 original had a cast of thousands, '39 was a populist version with identical screenplay, full orchestra and name changes, '66 only had 2 brothers and muzak, whilst if made today would probably have nothing real in it at all.

Three English brothers - Ronald Colman, Ralph Forbes and Neil Hamilton - join the French Foreign Legion to escape one of them being accused of stealing a large diamond. They find a hard life awaiting them, coming from the hordes of seething Arabs but more especially their own intense Sergeant Lejaune (Noah Beery). The greasy rat Boldini as played by William Powell jarred a little, but only because you know how urbane he really was in retrospect, while you can almost hear Colman uttering his lines in his own inimitable way. The acting was believable, the direction appeared faultless and generally production values were Paramount-high.

Although I've seen the '39 film many more times I'm finding every time I watch this one (definitely unremastered too) it grows on me more and more, so heartily recommend it as the next best thing to Wren's novel.

After a fabulous gem is reported stolen from his adoptive Aunt's care, Michael "Beau" Geste (Ronald Colman) takes the blame and leaves England, enlisting in the French Foreign Legion and getting stationed in North Africa. His two brothers, Digby (Neil Hamilton) and John (Ralph Forbes), also enlist in an effort to get Beau to return home. They fall under the command of the sadistic Sgt. Lejaune (Noah Beery Sr.), and the troops can't decide if they'd rather kill him or the approaching hostile Arab army. Also featuring William Powell, Victor McLaglen, Alice Joyce, Mary Brian, Norman Trevor, George Regas,Donald Stuart, and Bernard Siegel.

I've seen, and enjoyed, the 1939 version starring Gary Cooper, and now I know that that later version closely followed this original. Director and screenwriter Herbert Brenon does a tremendous job with the Legion sections of the film, and it's surprisingly violent. The sections showing the Gestes as kids goes on a bit long, though. The opening segment of the film is revisited later, with the events shown from a different angle. I wonder how often that narrative device had been used by this point, if at all. The cast stand out for me was William Powell as Boldini, a shifty thief and scoundrel (someone calls him a "jibbering jackal" at one point) who is also in the Legion.

Not a dull moment awaits the viewer in Beau Geste. Quite honestly, it's never boring. The great action scenes, great story telling, superb acting, fabulous art direction and amazing camerawork hold it up just as well today as in 1926.

Now, I'm not a fan of sweeping epics. I, for one, hate David Lean's work with a passion. But in the silent days, many a great epic film was made, and this in one of them.

Probably the most incredible thing is the sheer size of this movie. The opening scenes of the french troops advancing toward the fort, or later with the arabs doing the same thing, are astounding. Unlike in Lean's work, where crowds of chattering background players rush about in every direction, director Herbert Brennon skillfully weaves his literal army of extras over the sand dunes, obviously going to great lengths to ensure that he gets a breathtaking shot. And cinematographer Roy Hunt captures it impeccably, only as an artist would. I'd like to see more of his.

I saw this movie last night in a restored silent movie theater with live organ accompaniment. The organist, the incredible Dennis James, mentioned that some audience members might feel that they had seen this film before, only that they thought that it was with Gar Cooper. I haven't seen that version, but apparently it's almost a shot-for-shot remake. I'd love to see it if it's even half as good as this one.