The Volga Boatman

Cecil B. DeMille was a strange chappy, full of contradictions. A notorious anti-trade unionist and later HUAC stooge, and yet certainly up until the early 1930s he held a bizarre love for Soviet Russia. The Volga Boatman is his only picture that reflects that love, and is among his stranger efforts which, as anyone who has seen Madam Satan or Four Frightened People will know, is really saying something.

The Volga Boatman is one of a number of pictures DeMille made with his own independent production company whilst on a period of absence from Paramount. It was around this period that DeMille began to lean towards the epic as his main area of expertise. Of course, his run of biblical extravaganzas began at Paramount with The Ten Commandments in 1923, and there is the massive Joan of Arc in 1916, but it is in this mid-to-late 1920s phase that the epic became, for him, the norm.

This all made good sense for DeMille. When it came to directing the masses, few directors did it better. His crowd shots are a blend of aesthetic stylisation (check out how he uses the musicians in the foreground to form a circle with the ceiling arch in the Jaroslav ballroom scene) and pure realism. DeMille always humanised the crowd by dropping in close-ups of individuals, such as the children shown in the opening scene. His use of space is also on top form here, with framing and distance showing characters' isolation or their position in the group.

But in all those years of directing small-scale dramas DeMille had also honed his ability to film human relationships. Editing patterns were becoming ever more fluid anyway as silent cinema developed, and DeMille had developed a knack of showing characters' views of each other and of situations without resorting to intertitles. The Volga Boatman has few words, but is full of meaningful glances, moody close-ups and subtle gestures. A good example is the scene where the three leads first meet – all that really happens title-wise is Victor Varconi repeatedly yelling "Wipe it off!", but the various angles and reaction shots between the characters speak volumes and set up their relationships for the entire picture.

This was DeMille's first collaboration with screenwriter Lenore J. Coffee, and his first without any input from Jeanie MacPherson. If you have seen a lot of DeMille's silents, there is quite a noticeable difference. Gone are MacPherson's rambling moralist narratives and ridiculous – albeit poetic – personal philosophies. Coffee, while clearly not as mad as MacPherson, seems rather bland by comparison, and his words lack sparkle.

The acting too is not so special. Elinor Fair appears completely unable to emote realistically, and makes a poor lead. William Boyd is at least able to convincingly look mean (and cunning), but very little else. Villainously handsome Victor Varconi turns in the best performance, but I have seen better from him. Meanwhile Julia Faye and Theodore Kosloff provide cheerfully hammy comic relief, although the parts they have been given aren't very funny.

When you look at the DeMille pictures from the early 1920s, while there is sometimes good drama, something appears to be missing as DeMille strives for something grander, trying to shoehorn in "big" scenes. The Volga Boatman works because DeMille at last strikes his happy medium of showing the intense drama against the backdrop of large-scale action. His direction is on fine form here, and he is only let down by his collaborators. Mind you, in his role as exacting and all-powerful producer, DeMille could perhaps be blamed for accepting such a lifeless screenplay and cast. His poor judgement in these areas in many ways defines the style of his later pictures.

I thought Volga boatmen were workers on boats that traveled on the Volga river. I was shocked and pained to see they were human beasts of burden. C.B. DeMille got his message through to me - loud & clear. He set a very high production & story telling standard for his contemporaries and all those who would follow him. William Boyd's eyes pierce your soul. He is very exotic looking. He did an excellent job portraying an idealistic Bolshevik leader. It was interesting viewing to watch him struggle with the challenges he encountered while battling for freedom. (If I were Princess Vera, I wouldn't be able to give him up either.) The Silent movies you have to sit down, watch and concentrate. This film, its' story and William Boyd are unforgettable.

Even in his early days, DeMille was a technological wizard who applied the credo "more is better" to his movies. In his silent epic, The Volga Boatman, he certainly employed all the cinematic devices available to him to paint a picture of the Bolshevik revolution, not so much on a sweeping political scale, as on a personal level, that of a peasant and a princess.

The imagery in this movie is DeMille at his most visually expressive: the Volga boatmen, the human mules of Russia, in their rags contrasting with the richly dressed aristocrats, particularly Princess Vera whose gowns were designed by Adrian; the clock in the background inexorably ticking away the minutes of Vera's life as she plays the brave aristocrat, defying Feodor, the steely-eyed boatman/Bolshevik leader, not to love her; and the grand ballroom scene where the cream of Russian society dances while Mother Russia convulses in political upheaval.

Imagery conveys meaning in silent movies more so than the dialog, however, the dialog in The Volga Boatman is studded with acerbic lines emphasizing the disparity between classes and adding to the overall atmosphere of cultural inequality. Unfortunately, we only read one of the best lines of dialog ever written. Despite the fact that Bill Boyd's (Feodor's) rich baritone voice was a generous mixture of northern Oklahoma and north Hollywood accents, I enjoy imagining what he could have done with the line: "We've waited 500 years for freedom, you can wait five minutes to die."

As a devoted fan of the movies, particularly movies having some historical content, The Volga Boatman remains a highly appealing and "watchable" film for me because it focuses on timeless human relationships and not the stale political tracts which can be supplanted. In addition, DeMille's technical craftsmanship is most ably demonstrated in the beautiful composition of each scene. Mr. DeMille went on to direct Technicolor extravaganza's but this hand-tinted, silent classic is one that stands out as an example of DeMille at his cinematic best.

In his autobiography Cecil B. DeMille said that getting this picture made later would probably have gotten him blacklisted. Of course in saying that DeMille knew his rightwing credentials were impeccable and no chance of that happening. In fact this film about The Russian Revolution is so sanitized that you'll not see mentioned the names of Lenin, Stalin, Trotsky, Kerensky or any of the personalities of that seminal event in history of the 20th century.

Bearing no small resemblance to the later MGM film At The Balalaika, The Volga Boatman stars Elinor Fair as a Russian princess who while out riding with Victor Varconi of her own class gets good and smitten with peasant leader William Boyd who is one of the folks who totes those barges down the Volga River. Varconi takes it upon himself to humiliate Boyd for being uppity, but Boyd becomes a leader of the Revolution and soon the tables are turned.

The problem is that he too is good and smitten with the princess Fair and risks life, limb, and position in the revolution to save her. I doubt Lenin would have approved. So the Russian Revolution in this film is turned into a will love find a way drama. By the way two men in heat over the same woman is running theme in a flock of DeMille films from this one right up to Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner in The Ten Commandments.

The battle scenes are as usual impeccably done as is the DeMille tradition. That makes up for a lot of the hokiness that today's audience would find with The Volga Boatman.

At The Balalaika had Nelson Eddy's singing to do the same.

When I first heard of the Volga Boatman, I couldn't believe it. Cecil B. DeMille, super-patriot and rabid anti-communist made a film in which the hero was a BOLSHEVIK? And said Bolshevik played by none other than William "Hopalong Cassidy" Boyd? Needless to say, I had to see it.

I like DeMille's silent films considerably better than his sound ones and The Volga Boatman is certainly a lovely film to look at. William Boyd and Elinor Fair look splendid, the historically inaccurate but lushly gorgeous gown by Adrian are breath-taking. Communists commune, White Russians waltz the night away and the Volga looks very Volga-ish in spite of being in California.

The movie begins with a disclaimer stating that the film takes no sides. For the most part, this is true. Both sides are shown to have their heroes and villains. The problem is, the behavior and motivations of the characters make the movie seem like a French Revolution film that got the wrong costumes delivered by mistake. The mob scenes in particular made me feel like I was watching a reel of Orphans of the Storm! Oh well, this is DeMille.

DeMille hired Russians as consultants and actors but discarded any advice that they offered on authenticity. The fact that boatman had not been used on the Volga in 50 years did not dissuade him. The fact that some modern viewers would see this movie as an authentic portrayal of Russian life is disturbing, to say the least. (My source, by the way, is "Behind the Mask of Innocence" by Kevin Brownlow) The plot involves Feodor (Boyd), the titular boatman. Elinor Fair is Vera, a princess engaged to marry Prince Dimitri (Victor Varconi). Vera and Feodor meet by the riverbank and there is definite chemistry, much to Dimitri's annoyance. When the Revolution comes, Feodor rises in the ranks of the Red Army and soon finds himself in the uncomfortable position of having to execute Vera personally. What will he do? Well, the movie is available on DVD so it's easy to find out.

The sincerity and charm that Boyd would display so memorably as Hopalong Cassidy serve him well in this part. DeMille asks a lot of his leading men, to make the sometimes very silly scripts believable must have been a job and a half. Being a DeMille leading man also required a certain amount of upper body strength. Please note the whiplash inducing spin that Boyd gives Fair before their first kiss. That's a DeMille specialty. The same technique was later used by Yul Brynner in The Ten Commandments.

By the way, movie buffs should look for Eugene Palette (Friar Tuck in The Adventures of Robin Hood) in an uncredited role. He is part of the Red Army firing squad.

The Volga Boatman is a historical curio and pure brain candy. It is a fun movie to watch and it's certainly worth seeing Boyd without his cowboy hat, he and Fair give rather good performances and Varconi does a good job as the morally weak Dimitri. But as for the history... Well, best put that out of your mind and enjoy the ride.