Tempest

TEMPEST was the penultimate silent movie made by John Barrymore (ETERNAL LOVE directed by Ernst Lubitsch would be the last). The setting is not Shakespeare but takes place around the time of the Russian Revolution. The direction is credited to Sam Taylor who was best known for his comedies but a lot of it was shot by Lewis Milestone and visually it shows in many of the scene compositions and camera angles.

The film is primarily remembered today for Charles Rosher's cinematography, the sets by William Cameron Menzies, and as the Hollywood debut of German actress Camilla Horn (Murnau's FAUST). While not a great movie, it does have a lot to offer especially for silent movie and/or John Barrymore fans.

This version from Kino is part of a 4 DVD set of silent films by John Barrymore although it can be purchased separately (BELOVED ROGUE, DR JEKYLL & MR HYDE, SHERLOCK HOLMES make up the rest of the set). The picture quality is good and although it says it's from 35mm, a lot of it looks like 16mm to me. This print is courtesy of the Killiam Collection and contains some pro-Soviet bits that were later removed.

The piano score is by William Perry. Back in 2003, Film Preservation Associates released their DVD version through Image Entertainment. It is clearly from 35mm although a little scratchier and offers two separate soundtracks (the original Vitaphone discs and a piano score by Philip Carli) as well as a one reel home movie of Barrymore on his yacht. That's the one to own although this release comes in a close second...For more reviews visit The Capsule Critic.

'Tempest' gives John Barrymore plenty of chances to show his left profile. The plot -- utmost tosh, about a peasant cavalry officer obsessed with Princess Tamara during the Russian revolution -- doesn't stand up to analysis. Suffice it to say that this is one of those movies where a man keeps harassing a woman until she falls in love with him.

As Tamara, the haughty White Russian princess, Camilla Horn makes a magnificent entrance on horseback, riding sidesaddle in a form-fitting outfit with gauntlet gloves. Barrymore acquits himself well with a ridiculous script. There's one painful scene in which Lieutenant Markov (Barrymore) sups large quantities of booze to show how manly he is. Knowing what alcohol did to Barrymore's life and career, I cringe when I see him drinking on the screen.

Among the ridiculous elements is Boris de Fast as a gap-toothed Bolshevik whose ability to be conveniently present during all the plot twists (even surreptitiously entering a military stockade) borders on the supernatural. Ullrich Haupt, as Barrymore's villainous superior officer, is splendidly hissable in a role that seems tailored for Erich von Stroheim. Character actor Michael Mark plays one of the cavalry troopers: no dialogue, no business, but his distinctive facial structure calls attention to itself. Louis Wolheim supplies a bit too much comic relief as the bulbous and bull-like Bulba: I guess he must be Taurus Bulba. Wolheim plays a cavalry sergeant, but his immense bulk makes him implausible in the role; Wolheim is built more like an infantryman.

By far, the greatest appeal of this movie is Charles Rosher's dazzling camera-work, supplemented by the usual brilliant production design of William Cameron Menzies. The opening scene is a travelling shot of a military garrison: the camera is clearly panning across models, but they're as exquisitely detailed as one of those miniature villages that used to be so popular in Britain. Eventually the camera turns round a corner to show men walking past full-scale buildings ... but the cut is so well done, it's nearly seamless. Elsewhere, there's a splendid subjective shot through the bottom of an upturned glass ... and a fine example of double-exposure as the delirious Barrymore, rotting in the stockade, envisions his comrades in battle.

I was also impressed with the consistent use of dissolves whenever printed words, handwriting or inscriptions were shown on screen. As all the characters are Russian, we first see signs and captions written in Cyrillic, followed by a dissolve into English translations. (Compare this with 'The Last Command', made at a different studio this same year, in which a Russian telegram is shown on screen in English.) Just a couple of times in 'Tempest' the dissolve device is not used, and there's one bizarre shot in which a handwritten note reading 'Do not disturb' in English is posted on the same door as a sign reading 'Commissar' in Cyrillic. Still, I'm vastly impressed that the art department went to so much trouble.

Although the script is rubbish -- and I'm dismayed that the Bolsheviks are depicted favourably -- Barrymore's role has an impressive amount of moral ambiguity. Lieutenant Markov is basically moral and ethical, but he becomes obsessed with Princess Tamara ... and his behaviour degenerates accordingly. The script (and Barrymore) could have taken an easier route by contriving to make all of Markov's reversals a matter of circumstances rather than down to Markov's personal flaws.

Despite a howlingly implausible script, the visuals and the acting are so good in this film that I'll rate it 7 in 10.

1928 was a year for Russian Revolution stories in Hollywood movies. Probably the best was von Sternberg's THE LAST COMMAND with Emil Jannings, Evelyn Brent and William Powell giving great performances. This piece has great performances from John Barrymore and Louis Wollheim, but the female lead, Camillia Horn, producer Joseph Schenck's mistress, gives a performance that is largely composed of staring haughtily. Well, it's the way her part is written, I suppose in this melodramatic tripe. She despises Barrymore, she loves Barrymore, she despises Barrymore, then comes the revolution....

Even uncredited directing by Lewis Milestone couldn't help. Horn can't have been a bad actress with a sixty-year career in Germany, but she made this movie and the stinker ETERNAL LOVE in Hollywood, again with Barrymore under Lubitsch's direction and returned to Germany. Maybe she stared haughtily at Schenck too often.

What is worthwhile in this film is the late silent camerawork, courtesy of Charles Rosher. The late 1920s produced camerawork that moved about like a soap bubble on the breath of imagination. The advent of sound tied it down to a neurotic adoration of the still shot that it did not begin to recover from for a quarter of a century.

But this picture features camerawork that is astonishing. The party sequence, is balletic; the prison sequences trap you in bars of darkness and Rosher backlights everyone with a star halo that still takes your breath away, even in the scratchy prints that survive. This is one every fan fan needs to watch: not for the story, which is awful, not for the performances, some of which are excellent, but for the pictures. Look at every single frame. You won't regret it.

TEMPEST (United Artists, 1928), presented by Joseph M. Schenck, directed by Sam Taylor, with uncredited work by Lewis Milestone, bears no relation to the William Shakespeare play, but is actually a military love story set against the background of the Russian Revolution in 1914. It stars the legendary "great profile" John Barrymore as Ivan Markov, a peasant soldier who becomes an officer in the Russian Army, after being told by his comrades that no peasant has been commissioned to a higher rank in years. After he and his officers take a swim in the lake with only their uniform trousers on, Sergeant Bubba (Louis Wolheim), Ivan's closest friend, who has encountered three young girls also bathing on the other side, as a practical joke, steals their clothing. After being told for what he has done, Ivan interferes in Bubba's meddling and takes the garments to return them to the ladies. As he is doing his good deed, Ivan is confronted by the Princess Tamara (Camilla Horn), who immediately accuses him of stealing the clothes. Quite upset, she suddenly takes Ivan's whip and beats his naked chest with it. In return, Ivan takes her into his arms and kisses her. Later that evening Ivan encounters Tamara once again at a social function, and learns that she is the daughter of his superior (George Fawcett), who loves Ivan like a son. Ivan and Tamara dance together, with Tamara doing nothing else but insulting him. Afterwards, Ivan then drowns out his sorrows by stocking up on wine in a huge drinking glass and gulping it all down at once. Now drunk, Ivan loses himself and accidentally stumbles upon Tamara's bedroom where he proceeds to fall asleep on her couch. After being discovered there, Tamara calls for her father and her suitor (Ullrich Haupt), which then puts an end to Ivan's military career as he is stripped of his uniform and sentenced to serve five years in prison. After the outbreak of the war, the calvary and the other prisoners are ordered to the front, which leaves Ivan behind in solitary confinement, as ordered by Tamara's suitor. Released by an insane communist peddler (Boris De Fas), Ivan joins forced with him to become an important official while Tamara and her father are no longer aristocrats in high social standing. Now that Ivan is in control, will he treat her as unjustly as he was misjudged by her?

TEMPEST, which plays like a proposed project for Rudolph Valentino, who has since died in 1926, offers John Barrymore in one of his finer performances of the silent screen. Camilla Horn, a blonde beauty recently imported from Germany, makes her Hollywood movie debut in this production. Before returning to her native Germany, she was re-teamed one more time with John Barrymore in the silent drama, ETERNAL LOVE (United Artists, 1929).

Presented in the supporting cast are Michael Visaroff, Lena Malena and Michael Marke. Louis Wolheim provides his usual comedic moments as Ivan's loyal friend, while Ullrich Haupt adds to his villainy as Tamara's jealous suitor. George Fawcett, the familiar face from numerous DW Griffith silents of long ago, gives his usual reliable performance as the Russian general who would later find himself facing a firing squad. And then there is not so well known Boris De Fas, menacing, sinister and gap-toothed who somewhat resembles John Barrymore's evil side of his other personality from his own version to the 1920 horror film, DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. This is his only known Hollywood screen role.

TEMPEST, with the running time of 104 minutes, was originally released theatrically with a synchronized musical score by Hugo Riesenfeld. It became one of the twelve selected films to appear during the summer months on New York City's public television Channel 13's 1975 presentation of "The Silent Years" as hosted by Lillian Gish, accompanied by another excellent piano score by William Perry from the Paul Killian collection. Before its presentation, Gish talks about the beautiful photography by Charles Rosher as well as the lavish sets by William Cameron Menzies. Besides these fine assets, TEMPEST includes several fine dramatic moments by Barrymore: One in which Barrymore's Ivan becomes very teary-eyed as he is disgraced in front of his regiment, stripped of his uniform with his sword broken in half by a superior, and another in which Ivan, nearly going insane while being left in solitary confinement, surrounded by those high prison walls, only to look up on one of those walls and imagining the face of Tamara looking down at him, but as for John Barrymore's earlier drunken scene, for him that must have been a natural.

Like many silent films distributed around 1928-29, TEMPEST has become underrated and forgotten due to lack of television or any other kind of revival over the years. It was distributed on video cassette in the 1980s through Blackhawk Video and Republic Home Video (Blackhawk's merger), accompanied by the William Perry piano score used for "The Silent Years" (1975). Distribution on DVD from Image Entertainment contains choices of underscoring: 1)Original 1928 orchestral score and 2) Piano accompaniment by Philip Carli. (***)

I can't wrap my mind around the fact that Barrymore was in his forties when he made this film. He looks fit and fantastic, the true matinée idol. This is due in no small part to Rosher's astounding photography. This is a crazy, obsessional soap that may turn some people off, but John B. has some beautiful, moving moments that give me goosebumps. He was clearly still able to give his all at this point, and he does so here. His tearful scenes are believable and so well done. Camilla Horn was stunning and looked great with him, but she's so wooden that it dulls the effect a bit. Still, she had a long career in Germany, so I guess she couldn't have been so bad. Ivan is one big grey area when it comes to morality, and Barrymore conveys that very well.

I wish he could have pulled it together long enough to save his career and life from the self-parodying buffoonery that he sank into as he dissipated. He breaks my heart on many different levels.