The Crowd

Restored with a very nice score,"the crowd" hasn't aged a bit.The topic is as relevant today as it was in 1928.Do have a look at the first pictures of "the apartment" (1960) or the last ones of "working girl"(1988)and you'll know what I mean. John Sims tries to beat the crowd,this crowd that follows him everywhere,at work,in the streets,at the fair or on the beach.He doesn't even realize his condition :you should see him laughing at the people on the street,behaving like sheep.It's always someone else,his wife says,take a look at yourself.

The secondary characters are wonderfully depicted:the well-padded buddy,the mother and brothers-in-law always contemptuous,always putting John down.Lots of sequences are memorable,now comic,now tragic:the tiny flat where even the bed must be folded,the huge office where employees are doing the same job at the same time,where everybody acts alike when they leave their job,like some kind of ballet.

John Sims is the embodiment of the American dream,but it has an universal appeal.When he was born,his father promised he would have good prospects,he would become someone big.King Vidor does not show the relationship father/son cause the father disappears when John is still a boy,but we can easily imagine it.So Sims thought NY was depending on him,and he discovers that he will be a wash-out all his life.If it weren't for his little boy who still believes in him(Vittorio de Sica will remember it for his "bicycle thief",he would throw himself under a train.

The cinematography is prodigious;two examples : The father is dead, the boy is climbing a stair : stunning high angle shot,enhancing his awful pain. On the contrary,the skyscrapers are filmed from below,showing how lost a human being can feel in this steel and glass world .

A detail :the hysterical/historical joke at the fair will be used again by the Beatles themselves in their "magical mystery tour" home-made movie.

1928:the silent era was coming to an end but we had not heard the last of it.

"THE CROWD" (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1928), directed by King Vidor, is a story about the average man, a born dreamer who promises but doesn't deliver, and his struggle to succeed and fight financial ruin. While top-billing goes to Vidor's wife, Eleanor Boardman, the movie belongs to an unknown named James Murray, who, in his debut performance as a movie actor, gives a remarkable performance as an ordinary American man with high ambitions.

The story about this common man begins on the 124th birthday of America, July 4th, 1900, in which a doctor delivers a baby boy to the Sims household. The baby boy is named John. The next scene finds John, now age 12, sitting on a wooden fence with his buddies, all discussing what they want to be when they grow up. John tells the other boys that he has big plans for his future, that he's going to be somebody really big. Suddenly a horse pulling ambulance stops in front of the Sims home. As Johnny rushes to see what's wrong, he is told by his mother that his father has died. Before the fade-out, this scene follows the boy with the shock-filled face walking alongside his mother up a long flight of stairs to be his father for the very last time. Years pass. Now John Sims (James Murray), age 21, has left his small town existence for a new life in New York City with great ambition to succeed. He later obtains an office job by day and goes to school at night. One evening, Bert (Bert Roach), John's co-worker and friend, persuades him to skip his studies and go on a double date with him and Jane (Estelle Clark). John is introduced to Jane's friend, Mary (Eleanor Boardman). John and Mary become acquainted, and after spending the fun evening in Coney Island, John proposes marriage to her as they return home by subway. Against the advise of her brothers (Daniel G. Tomlinson and Dell Henderson), Mary marries John. Over the years John and Mary become the parents of two children, a boy called Junior (Freddie Burke Frederick) and a girl (Alice Mildred Puter). While all seems to be going right for John, his marriage starts to fall apart as Mary gets fed up with John's constant promises he fails to keep, the loss of one of his children followed by the loss of his job, and depression leading John to a brink of suicide.

While MGM is best known for producing top-notch films headed by top-named stars, "The Crowd" features none of those elements. Instead of heading the cast with box office draws as John Gilbert and Norma Shearer, who could easily have played John and Mary, director Vidor uses his actress wife, Boardman, and an unknown he picked from the crowd named James Murray, supported by actors not known for anything more than minor character parts, such as Bert Roach, Lucy Beaumont as Mary's mother; and a crowd of street extras. What makes this movie so remarkable today is that the leading players are so real. John and Mary could be anybody watching this film. And the best of all, they aren't faked with glamour and sophistication that best expresses MGM movies. John and Mary are just ordinary people going about their ordinary lives. They love, quarrel and make up again. And whether "The Crowd" was actually filmed on location in New York City or not doesn't really matter. The feel of The Big Apple is there from the early sequence in which John observes New York City from the Hudson River ferry to the family having a picnic gathering on the beach on Coney Island; as well as the camera panning through the skyscrapers of the big city which leads to that now famous shot to the overhead view of a gigantic office with rows of desks and white-collar workers in their nine to five jobs.

The characters of John and Mary Sims were presented on film once again by King Vidor in an independent film titled "Our Daily Bread" (United Artists, 1934) starring Karen Morley and Tom Keene in the roles originated by Boardman and Murray. While Morley and Keene almost physically resemble their predecessors, what a treat it would have been if Boardman and Murray reprised their roles in the talkie sequel which depicts the Sims couple (sans children) struggling through the Depression by starting a farming community. By then, Boardman retired from acting and Murray was, like the character he played in "The Crowd," a man with ambition who fails to meet with success. Murray's reported drowning death in 1936 remains a mystery as to whether it was suicide or accidental. It's no wonder why Murray was so good in playing John Sims. He was really starring in his own life story, and didn't know it.

"The Crowd" was one of 13 MGM silent features that premiered on New York City's public television station of WNET, Channel 13, September 28, 1973, on MOVIES, GREAT MOVIES, hosted by Richard Schickel, with movie accompanied by an original score produced for this series. It was also one of the movies I recall watching every time it showed mainly because of an ordinary story that succeeds in holding my interest from start to finish. It's still a remarkable even today, ranking it one of the best silent movies ever produced. Out of circulation for more than a decade, "The Crowd" was distributed on video cassette in 1989 with a new Thames Orchestra score conducted by Carl Davis. At the running time of 104 minutes, "The Crowd" currently plays on Turner Classic Movies on a shorter length of 93 minutes. It's been mentioned by TV hosts, including Robert Osborne of TCM, that "The Crowd" was not an initial success, but thanks to frequent revivals in recent decades, it has been hailed, rightfully, as a cinematic masterpiece. (****)

Silent drama about John (James Murray) and Mary (Eleanor Boardman) meeting in NYC, falling in love and marrying. John wants to make it big--to be somebody. He looks down on those who, he feels, have failed. But, after marriage and two kids, he's still stuck in the same dead-end job and sees no way out. Then tragedy strikes and John starts to crack.

A failure when first released (it's easy to see why--it's very depressing) but now considered a masterpiece. The story is grim but the ending is happy and realistic. Murray and Boardman give superb performances (especially Murray during a scene with his son on a bridge) and King Vidor's direction is superb. The visuals in this film are decades ahead of their time. His use of the crowds and the individuals lost among them are just great.

Hard to describe but a definite must-see. Just don't expect a barrel of laughs.

Like most of the silent tragedies I've seen (and there haven't been many), "The Crowd" was hard to like. That didn't stop it from being a finely directed and acted drama. Like any film from any era that avoids the traps of trend-conscious filmmaking, "The Crowd" was built to last. When you make a movie with a good, solid story and inspire the cast to give brilliant performances, it's difficult to go wrong.

It's not a fun movie -- most of the time we're spent watching James Murray shoot himself in the foot, scene after scene. He's a really pathetic creature, but the director, King Vidor, portrays him and his story without passing judgment.

Worth the price of admission alone, Vidor's eye for detail in old New York City. In a justly famous montage and tracking shot near the beginning, he shows us Gotham so well, and in such great detail, that hardly a director since has been able to match him. His nomination of Best Director at the first Academy Awards was completely deserved (and his loss to Frank Borzage for the creaky "7th Heaven" was, arguably, the first of Oscar's major blunders.)

It's a bleak world view, that's for sure, but it keeps your attention and fills your eye.

The most remarkable thing about 'The Crowd (1928)' is that is manages to cover so much emotional ground. John (James Murray) is a young man who knew from an early age that he would become somebody special, that he would stand out from the crowd. At age 21, he travels to New York, the towering metropolis introduced via a montage of impressive high- angled shots that resemble Robert Florey's 'Skyscraper Symphony (1929).' John joins the accounting sector of a large insurance firm, and studiously assures himself that he need only work his way up. Years pass. John marries, has two children. It takes him five years to realise that he has become what he swore never to become: a member of The Crowd.

Vidor's message is a double-edged sword. Early in the film, The Crowd is something to be loathed: the camera, in a virtuoso display of technical brilliance, swoops down upon a seemingly-endless room of seated accountants, each man turning pages in mechanical unison. (Billy Wilder later paid homage to this scene in 'The Apartment (1960)'). But when John finally determines to break free from The Crowd, his world falls apart around him – he can't maintain a job, his wife threatens to leave him, he loses his dignity. The film's ending is intriguing in its ambiguity: John is absorbed into the crowds of a laughing theatre audience.

Is it a happy ending, an embracing of conformity? Is it ironic, an acknowledgment of mass delusion? Is Vidor integrating his character into the cinema audience? In 'The Bicycle Thief (1948),' a similar disappearance into the crowd is viewed as tragic, but here I'm not so sure. F.W. Murnau's 'The Last Laugh (1924)' told a similar tale, depicting the bleak prospects of a working-class doorman, played by Emil Jannings. UFA studio thwarted that film by enforcing a ludicrous happy ending that Murnau included only with a snide introductory title card. M-G-M also toyed with a happy ending to 'The Crowd,' but fortunately Vidor's version ultimately won out, a conclusion genuinely unsettling in its uncertainty, and sure to inspire discussion.