Camille

This version of Camille features Nazimova as the courtesan and Valentino as her young lover, Armand. It certainly makes for an excellent film and deserves to be viewed as an earlier rendition of the story that features a mature star opposite a rising one. I think it holds its own space next to the Garbo version, and both benefit by the comparison.

Valentino is subtle and intense, he gives a memorable performance and his presence is electric. He is much more expressive than Robert Taylor in the Garbo version. Nazimova must have been aware of his scenic power, as she chose to have him absent in the last scene, so we could concentrate on her death which was very well done. In general Nazimova tends to be over the top in the crowd scenes, but her solos or scenes with Valentino reveal subtlety and add depth to the interpretation. She is very convincing for example, in establishing the disease as a major feature in her character from the very beginning.

The story takes place in the present then 1920's and not in the 1840's. The designs for sets and dresses by Natasha Rambova are exquisite. We first see Camille at the top of a grand staircase in what we assume is the Opera, surrounded by admirers and wearing a grand gown, and wild hairstyle. The party at her house afterward is perfect in the decor and design, particularly the way we can see into her boudoir from the salon. The country scenes were beautiful as were the flashbacks into the story of Manon Lescaut, the book that is a gift from Armand, and which he reads to her in their idyllic moments, and that she will hold on to till the very end. It relates a similar life to hers in the 18th century, and we understand her predicament to be a recurring theme, as old and human as society itself. The interior scenes in the country however were too spartan and middle-class in style. And her dresses are also too plain. We find it hard to believe Marguerite could have spend so much and get so little. It does seem a perfect environment though, for Armand's conventional and small- minded father, who looks like Napoleon III in his commanding incarnation of bourgeois morality.

The gambling scene that marks her re-entry into her old life is one of the best in the film. The communication between Marguerite and Armand from across the room is as intense as if they were holding each other close. It must be seen to be understood, as no words can accurately describe the gamut of feelings rushing by the actors, it is precisely at these moments that we understand the art of the silent era, and Norma Desmond's comment in "Sunset Boulevard" :"We didn't need words, we had faces".

Nazimova truly is a creature like none other. Though born in the 1870's she is not of the nineteenth century nor of the roaring twenties. With her choppy afro and willowy—even anorexic—body, if she suggests any period at all, it is maybe the Andy Warhol disco seventies. But she's definitely watchable in this movie, even touching—she has a rather cherubic face under her bizarre hairstyle which makes her believable as Camille, the dying courtesan whose last chance at happiness is destroyed when the father of her lover Armand Duval demands that she give him up. Armand, played by Rudolph Valentino, allegedly had much of his role reduced by Nazimova who could recognize a fellow scene stealer when she saw one (he is replaced by a book in the deathbed scene!), but he manages to make his impassioned, surly presence felt. Falling as quickly into resentment as he earlier did into love when he believes Nazimova has tired of him, he comes across as both sympathetic and shallow (and quite funny in the casino scenes when he tries a bit too hard to make Camille jealous by flirting with an unworthy tootsie who resembles Mae West). The art deco set design that still looks contemporary almost constitutes a character in itself.

For more than two decades I have been a journalist, with extensive experience writing about historic Hollywood. Along the way, I have read much about this movie: about how horrible it was, the critical reception (quite unpleasant), how it ruined careers, etc.

Last night I finally had the chance to see the beautifully restored version on Turner Classic Movies.

I cannot speak for the world of 1921 (being much too young, of course), but this movie must rank up there with one of the top ten films of the silent era. The acting, while not perfect, exhibits little of the hamminess and showiness that earmarks the typical 1920s silent. Nazimova is spectacular in her performance of the dying woman of ill repute. The design elements are tremendous -- especially considering how unique they were in their time. Beautifully realized sets, costumes, props, etc.

Other versions of this movie have been made before and since, but this version far outweighs the more familiar version with GG (next to whose photograph the word "hamminess" appears in the dictionary).

The only downside to this otherwise marvelous film is the appearance by Valentino -- whose popularity must have been a product of the times, as I still cannot fathom how he ever got more than a bit part in a Hollywood film.

Of special note are the French flashbacks that pop up throughout the film. They bring a special poignance to the finale that is especially touching.

Although the 1921 silent version of "Camille" will not eclipse the later Garbo vehicle, the earlier film is an unexpectedly entertaining movie in its own right. The Dumas story was updated to the post World War I era and starred Alla Nazimova as the tragic Lady of the Camellias. Physically, Nazimova fails to convince viewers that she could lure young men into her clutches or coax a rich suitor to cross her palm with a jewel for her favors. However, she plays Camille in the grand style of the era, and, had she lived, she would have been a fine Norma Desmond in "Sunset Boulevard." Two years after "Camille," the 44-year-old Nazimova played the teen-aged "Salome," the role that Norma Desmond wrote for herself as a comeback vehicle. The Nazimova version offers a glimpse of what the Norma Desmond film might have been.

As in "Salome," Nazimova's hair, costumes, and gestures in "Camille" compensate for her lack of physical allure, and the audience eventually accepts that a Rudolph Valentino would succumb to her charms. However, Valentino, does not register here either physically or emotionally with the appeal that he would exhibit in later films.

Natacha Rambova, who was Mrs. Valentino, designed the costumes and sets, which often add a striking dimension to the film. The unusual designs are reminiscent of the Aubrey-Beardsley-inspired work on Nazimova's "Salome." Although the overall direction of "Camille" is competent, if not exciting, the story is well paced. While certainly not an example of the silent cinema at its artistic peak or even a typical commercial film of the era, "Camille" offers a star turn by one of the era's more eccentric actresses and an early look at one of the great male stars of the 1920's.

This is a good adaptation of the familiar story of "Camille", with a fair number of interesting features that make it worth seeing. In its time, it was a vehicle for Alla Nazimova's distinctive style, and her approach gives the whole story a tone different from most other versions. It's also of interest for its (then) contemporary setting and for having Rudolph Valentino in the role of Armand.

Once you have seen Greta Garbo's outstanding 1936 performance in the role, it becomes very difficult afterwards to look at any other actress objectively as Camille, and indeed no one else has ever come close to Garbo's standard. But Nazimova's approach works fine in itself, and she gives the character a different but interesting personality.

Nazimova gives Camille a decidedly world-weary nature, and she makes the character seem about to go over the edge at any moment. Her sudden transformation due to the influence of the innocent Armand makes the character sympathetic, while accentuating her instability. It's interesting to see Valentino as Armand, since the role calls for him to allow himself to be completely dominated by Camille and his feelings for her. He does rather well in making the character believable.

By replacing the usual period background with what was then a contemporary setting, the movie also emphasizes the emptiness of Camille's world before meeting Armand. The story also makes regular use of the parallel with the 'Manon Lescaut' story that provides a parallel to the main story. All of these things make this silent screen version quite interesting, and it is well worth seeing as a somewhat different take on the story.