The Avenging Conscience: or 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'

Avenging Conscience; Thou Shalt Not Kill, The (1914)

*** (out of 4)

Feature from D.W. Griffith, which he quickly shot before he started filming on The Birth of a Nation. An uncle is constantly putting presure on his nephew (Henry B. Walthall) to spend more time on his work. When the nephew falls in love with a local girl (Blanche Sweet) the uncle demands that they call it off. When the nephew can't think of anything else, he decides the only way to keep the girl is by killing the uncle. This film is based on several Edgar Allan Poe stories with the second half of the film dealing mainly with The Tell-Tale Heart. You can tell this film was quickly made but there's still some nice direction, good performances and G.W. Bitzer's wonderful cinematography. There's some nice scenes dealing with devils and ghouls from Hell as well as a scene of Jesus. The special effects are quite nice for the era as well. Mae Marsh and Ralph Lewis have small parts. Due to the lack of copyright laws at the time, Griffith used all these short Poe stories without any credit being given.

Henry B. Walthall stars as the Nephew, who has been raised and doted upon by his Uncle (Spottiswoode Aiken). But when the Nephew meets the Sweetheart (Blanche Sweet), the Uncle objects to their plans to get married. This leads the Nephew down a path toward murder and madness. Also featuring George Siegmann as the Italian.

This is a pretty strange movie, with a lot of unexpected developments and odd imagery, including floating Jesus, Moses and the Ten Commanments, shirtless kids crawling out of a tree, a devil hanging out with animal-headed friends, Pan playing his flute, and Mae Marsh deciding that the best way to get a man is to wear a waitress outfit. Walthall is very entertaining, especially in the unhinged final quarter of the movie. The very last section is a cheat, but not totally unexpected. This didn't hold the cultural impact of The Birth of a Nation or display the kind of artistic ambition of Intolerance, but in many ways I found this more entertaining. Recommended.

Though not all are equal, by and large it's gratifying just to watch a surviving silent film, for there are far too many that have been lost over the years. Some have weathered time better than others, whether in terms of expression of values that are no longer acceptable or just with regards to the physical condition of prints preceding preservation and restoration. While filmmaker D. W. Griffith is equally legendary for his most lauded contributions to cinema and notorious for his most vilified contributions, thankfully 'The avenging conscience' is a title that holds up pretty well all around. I wouldn't call it perfect; even for devotees of the silent era I think there are aspects to the construction here that leave something to be desired, and it's not likely to change the minds of those modern viewers who have a hard time engaging with older movies. It remains deserving on its own merits, however, and is worth revisiting - and in fact, truthfully, it's even better than I had supposed it would be when I first sat down to watch.

The picture makes no bones about taking inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe, and even within the length itself it makes note of just that. As such one will have certain expectations about the course of the story, and as if the name weren't indication enough, there is definitely an element of the macabre herein. One might well observe, though, that this comes around only in the second half of the runtime, and the first half is a straightforward melodrama that could have easily been teased out into a conventional romantic drama of the period. Here is where lies a couple faults of the feature, for the pacing in all such scenes is surely a little sluggish: progressing piecemeal from beat to beat, pausing to tread water, and heavily drawing out and emphasizing each. Moreover, in the early stretch the sequencing seems a tad disjointed as we're introduced to all the characters who will play a part in the tableau in time, but this exposition jumps around so much that the approach is a tad off-putting.

Be that as it may the tale is compelling, and written well in and of itself with no small amount of genuine imagination to round it out. There are touches here of deviousness and atmosphere that lend gratifying flavor to the proceedings; where Griffith's narrative discretely illustrates Poe's influence, the flourishes of the "master of the macabre" are felt quite effectively with strong scene writing. Between some wonderful details in the writing, admirable and wholehearted acting from the cast, modest yet superb effects, and Griffith's firm oversight as director to make it all count, there is a palpable air of horror that manifests as the plot advances. It may be a long walk to get to that anticipated value, but the journey really is worth it. All the while, we're treated to the excellence one hopes of a filmmaker so generally esteemed: the sets and filming locations are outstanding, flush with swell minutiae; the costume design, hair, and makeup are fetching. The more robust moments come off well - and are surprisingly dark, not least at the climax - and G. W. Bitzer's cinematography remains crisp and vivid even over 100 years later. And one must certainly give credit to the stars, above all Henry B. Walthall and Spottiswoode Aitken, for even within the stereotypical silent slant of exaggerated body language and facial expressions their acting is an integral component of the weight that 'The avenging conscience' does ultimately carry.

I think the most "high and mighty" affectations of the storytelling are a little gauche, unmistakably hearkening to the culture of the 1910s and less abjectly meaningful in the twenty-first century - but so it goes. There's also one other point worth discussion, however, for to my chagrin the film employs a trope of fiction that I utterly despise. One way or another the device so often feels like a cop-out wherever it arises, a tacit admission of either having run out of ideas, or unwillingness to take a more extreme step further. Rarely is it used well, and though there was a chance it could have been utilized in this case to make the whole even more striking (and morose), that's not what we get. With all that said, however: while I think that presence here is unfortunate, I can't bring myself to get mad about it in this instance. The narrative that Griffith penned is sufficiently solid that a slow first act melts away into a second act that's unexpectedly commanding, with spicier genre garnishes than I would have assumed for an American filmmaker in 1914. The plot could have turned still more grim, yet for where we do end up, the resolution almost feels like a spot of relief after the unforeseen vibrancy of what preceded it. Not least with some creative embellishments to the end sequence, I'm inclined to think that this is an all too uncommon example of a storytelling trope, that I hate, being used and nevertheless coming off well. I never thought I'd be typing those words, but here we are.

Honestly, I'm very pleased with just how good this is. It doesn't make the best first impression, least of all given its reputation as early horror cinema, but good things come to those who wait. I had my reservations, too, having been aware ahead of time of how the title ends, but when all is said and done even those concerns were met, answered, and resolved. This won't appeal to everyone, least of all genre purists and modern viewers for whom the silent era just doesn't go down easily. All I can say is that I had mixed expectations, and even as I see other directions the last minutes could have been taken, those expectations have been handily exceeded. That reputation of 'The avenging conscience' is well deserved after all, and if you have the opportunity to watch, these seventy-eight minutes are well worth checking out!

This D. W. Griffith film is an early effort by the director and shows his developing skill on the lead up to epics such as Intolerance. It's about a young man who falls in love with a girl. This love drives a wedge between him and his uncle who has set a path for him that does not allow for such frivolous distractions. This situation drives the man to murder his overbearing uncle. This event leads to madness and psychological breakdown.

The story is based on Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Tell-Tale Heart' with elements of 'Annabel Lee' and 'The Black Cat' thrown in for good measure. It's a rare horror outing for Griffiths. Indeed it is one of the very first fully form horror films at all. As such it is of interest. It contains several eerie and macabre details like the ghostly spectre of the uncle back from the dead and thoughts of murder represented by a spider on web and ants attacking a larger insect en mass. It's very primitive stuff overall but that is to be expected considering its age. Worth a look if you are interested in the genesis of the horror film though.

D. W. Griffith's The Avenging Conscience is based on Edgar Allan Poe's 1843 short story The Telltale Heart, with elements of his 1849 poem Annabel Lee mixed in. The film opens with the death of a woman, her infant son subsequently cared for by his uncle (Spottiswoode Aitken). When the boy becomes an adult (played by Henry B. Walthall), his mind turns from studying to the charms of his chubby sweetheart Annabel (Blanche Sweet), but his uncle disapproves, warning him to stay away from the woman. Desperate to be with his beloved, and inspired by the cruelty of nature, the young man murders his uncle, walling up the old man's body behind the fireplace, but as the days go by, his conscience begins to plague him...

As old silent movies go, The Avenging Conscience is reasonably watchable if you don't mind the expected exaggerated expressions and wild gesticulations of pre-sound cinema, but it does suffer from an uneven pace: parts of the film are incredibly drawn out, while other moments feel very choppy, as though entire scenes are missing (which might well be the case). I imagine that the whole thing would have worked better with a shorter runtime (the version I watched clocked in at 84 minutes). I also feel like Griffith didn't have the strength of his convictions, ruining this early attempt at horror with a weak ending, an early example of the lame 'it was all a dream' trope (followed by an utterly bizarre scene in which Pan lures children and woodland animals out of hiding with his pipe-playing).

5/10.