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As he is erecting a new treasury building in ancient Egypt, iron-fisted Pharaoh Emil Jannings (as Amenes) receives an offer of a pact with wild-haired rival Paul Wegener (as Samlak). The Ethiopian king brings along his desirable light-skinned daughter to offer as a wife for Mr. Jannings. Instead, Jannings is smitten with demure Greek slave girl Dagny Servaes (as Theonis), who has escaped from Mr. Wegener and his jealous daughter Lyda Salmonova (as Makeda). Later, Jannings catches Ms. Servaes smooching with stout Harry Liedtke (as Ramphis), the treasury building worker who snatched her off the shores of the river Nile...

Jannings is so madly in love with Servaes, he spares Mr. Liedtke a death sentence in order to win Servaes' hand. You can safely predict Liedtke seeks out his lost lover. Meanwhile, Wegener is miffed at Jannings for rejecting his daughter and understandably irate when he discovers their missing Greek slave girl has taken her place in the palace. You can safely predict this means war...

This silent epic led Ernst Lubitsch's entry into Hollywood, where his films, particularly those with Pola Negri, were wildly popular. The director had a stunningly successful career. Partly preserved silent films by renowned directors are often declared lost masterpieces. Like many, this film does not live up to those lofty description, but it is still an excellent spectacle. It's also incredibly restored. There are reportedly only about ten minutes missing, with stills and title cards filling in the blanks. The bulk of the film appears to have been digitally restored to pristine condition, by Thomas Bakels and his crew. Art/set direction is outstanding.

******* Das Weib des Pharao (2/21/22) Ernst Lubitsch ~ Emil Jannings, Dagny Servaes, Harry Liedtke, Paul Wegener

The fabulous restoration of this film alone makes it worth viewing. The pictures are glossy and luscious as to be almost magical. It makes you realize that even though the movies were still silent in the 1920's, the quality of the film was first rate.

Also extremely noteworthy of the version recently shown on TCM is the spectacular orchestral score, really one of the best. Try to actively listen to the music if you can from time to time - especially in the late battle scenes, it is worthy of Wagner.

The sets are over the top, and the cast begins as a cast of dozens, then scores, then hundreds, and then literally thousands as the climactic battle scenes are reached. The Germans really outdid themselves here, easily matching the Hollywood spectacles of the same era. With great skill, director Ernst Lubitcsh was able to interweave outlandish spectacle with a lot of close-up tragedy, perhaps having learned this technique from watching D.W. Griffith fliks.

Unfortunately, the exaggerated emotive acting is a little painful to watch at times. This is the kind of over-acting histrionics that would be mocked by some for many years after the advent of sound.

The plot occasionally borders a bit on the unbelievable as well. I think the silliest thing was when, early in the film, the pharaoh is about to sign a peace treaty with the Ethiopians, when suddenly he is informed that someone is "approaching" the Treasury! In great shock, the king abandons the ceremony to deal with this incredible event personally! This would be like President Roosevelt walking out on the Yalta Conference in order to deal with a dog that had piddled in Lafayette Park across the street from the White House. Silly indeed.

The actor playing the hero "Ramphes" may also have the ugliest haircut in the history of serious film.

But these are minor distractions. "The Loves of Pharaoh" is art, and it is movie history, and the glorious restoration makes it well worth viewing.

TCM presented a beautiful print of Ernst Lubitsch's Egyptian epic THE LOVES OF PHAROAH (1922). Released by Paramount in the US, the film was Lubitsch's last feature in his home country of Germany before setting up camp in Hollywood. (That's another story all together.) The "Lubitsch Touch" in his historically-based epics, such as CARMEN, MADAME DUBARRY, SUMURUN, or ANNA BOLEYN, is the director's ability to present us with the overwhelming sight of the plight of the crowd and then gradually direct our attention to a personal drama taking place within the epic sweep of time and destiny. (He does so more genuinely than DeMille, who seemed to have imitated this approach.) Then, of course,there are the sexual situations, the uncontrollable attractions, and the inevitable rejections that determine the fates of the characters, a theme continued into the director's sophisticated comedies and, later, witty musicals that followed this film. LOVES OF PHAROAH has stunning visual moments both large and small: the crowds working, revolting, being manipulated by rulers to the turning of Emil Jannings to a wall and dropping an outstretched hand, showing his reluctant realization of the futility of his affections. The film is deliberately paced but never draggy. Though there are moments of regret (the depiction of the Ethiopians is particularly stereotyped and inconsistent), this foray into Arabian exotica is a dramatic improvement over the stilted presentations seen in SUMURUN from a couple of years before. With THE LOVES OF PHAROAH, Lubitsch reaches the apex of his epic years (though THE PATRIOT may have reached greater heights, though we'll never know until a print is found).

Massive and brilliant restoration of this once-lost film is cause to celebrate. This 1922 epic directed by Ernst Lubitsch boasts massive Egyptian sets, great costumes, a brilliant music score and several great performances.

Twisting plot entwines the lives of Pharoah Amenes (Emil Jannings), a Greek slave girl Theonis (Dagny Servaes), a hero Ramphis (Harry Liedtke), and a vicious Ethiopian king (Paul Wegener).

After Ramphis steals Theonis from the Ethiopian princess (Lyda Salmonova)and returns to Egypt, the Pharaoh spies her and instantly falls in love. But he's already promised to return the slave girl to the Ethiopian king. Pharaoh takes the woman, but she loves Ramphis. After the lovers are caught in the treasury, Pharaoh condemns Ramphis to slave work in the quarries. But Pharaoh does not return Theonis, so the Ethiopians start a war.

Before he goes off to war, Pharaoh walls up Theonis in the treasury and blinds the architect (Albert Bassermann) so no one will find the entrance. Amenes is presumed killed in battle and Theonis, technically Queen of Egypt gets to pick a new Pharaoh and she picks Ramphis. But Amenes is not dead and soon returns to Egypt to find a new Pharaoh installed.

Serpentine plot keeps the viewer guessing as the main characters are all bound up in various promises and oaths and star-crossed loves, and no one gets what he wants.

Emil Jannings and Dagny Servaes are terrific. While the rest of the cast overacts, it seems fitting for such a sprawling story set against massive Egyptian sets.

The restoration of this film ranks among the great restoration projects, and the final result, despite some missing sections, is absolutely amazing. Well worth looking for.

German director Ernst Lubitsch was becoming well known in the United States for his long line of highly successful and greatly praised comedy of manners movies. These, plus a few more serious later contemporary films he directed, interested several financiers who wanted him to produce a high-budgeted film that American audiences would be interested in. Departing from his usual comedies, Lubitsch decided to show his diversity in cinema by producing an ancient Egyptian spectacle, February 1922's "The Loves of Pharaoh." The subject matter was popular on the continent at the time since explorations of ancient pharaoh tombs were producing historic archaeological discoveries, including King Tutankhamun's burial chamber later in the year. Lubitsch also figured that great ancient spectaculars were popular with American audiences, so he narrowed his production to that era.

The plot of two lovers caught between a pharaoh who loves the woman and an Ethiopian king who doesn't want to give up the woman as his personal slave, contains the most believable lavish Egyptian sets witnessed in cinema yet as well as a great number of extras. Consciously, Lubitsch not only wanted to show American studios he was capable of producing sophisticated films, but with the turmoil in his native country after the Great War and its limited finacial resources, his desire to immigrate to the United States was strong.

The director soon received an offer he couldn't refuse: Mary Pickford wanted him to direct her next movie. He immediately bought a one-way ticket on an ocean liner and sailed to Hollywood, to never look back. Consequently, "The Loves of Pharaoh" was the last German film Lubitsch ever directed.

Ernst Lubitsch's final German film was a conscious effort to appeal to American producers. He had made several large-scale historical, romantic tragedies, but he ended with his best of them with The Loves of Pharaoh. I still wouldn't quite call it good, though. Perhaps its part of the incomplete nature of the film, missing about a fifth of the original film due to the very early cutting of the film in different territories that left a complete print impossible to assemble, but my problems don't seem to align with the missing footage (filled out with explanatory intertitles and a few production stills like the restored version of Erich von Stroheim's Greed). Still, it's a large scale production that mostly manages to accomplish its character-based goals. However, it's beset by Lubitsch's inability to find ways to provide depth to characters in the silent film medium once again, holding it back.

The Egyptian pharaoh Amenes (Emil Jannings) receives the king of Ethiopia Samlak (Paul Wegener) who brings along his daughter Makeda (Lyda Salmonova) to marry Amenes. On their way to the Egyptian capitol, Makeda's Greek slave girl Theonis (Dagny Servaes) comes across Ramphis (Harry Liedtke), the son of pharaoh's architect Sothis (Albert Bassermann) who steals her away and takes her home with him. This angers Makeda and, by extension, Samlak so that when they meet Amenes they bring it up, extracting a vague promise from Amenes to pursue the thief, though he obviously has no intention of following through. He's more concerned with the large gift of treasure that Samlak offers Amenes in an effort to forge an alliance between the two nations, only paying attention to Makeda because of the jewels around her neck.

One of the early issues with the film is how Theonis ends up in the grasp of Amenes. The pharaoh is building a great treasury (it's the name for his final resting place) in the form of a sphinx, and he has forbidden anyone from getting near it, including himself. So, Ramphis decides that, in the middle of the night, to impress Theonis, he's going to take her to the treasury on a lark where they get captured by pharaoh's troops. This is where the thinness of character begins to bite the film. I think it was a single intertitle that said that Sothis was the architect of the treasury at this point (it becomes more explicit and important later), so the film implies a lot of what goes into Ramphis' decision, so much that it feels like it comes out of nowhere and is completely reckless in a way that doesn't really seem to make a lot of sense. This section is where it seems most of the missing footage would be, but it's more about the introduction of Theonis to the Sothis household than Ramphis' doomed excursion.

The commotion brings Theonis to Amenes' attention, and he's instantly smitten with her. This is the other side of the early part of the film that feels thin. It's an instant attraction, more in alignment with lust than love, and the entire rest of the film relies on it. I mean, I get it, but I don't think the film puts in the work to make the emotion from Amenes feel real. In order to appeal to her, Amenes offers Ramphis a pardon that manifests as a lifetime of hard labor in the quarry. So, we have a slave girl attached to a powerful man she doesn't love, a rival nation angered at the disrespect they experience when they find out that Amenes won't give up Theonis, and a young man being crushed by the powerful man. The actual moving of pieces to get them into this place is a bit weaker than it could have been, but it largely works in some rudimentary ways.

It's about the halfway point where the film starts cranking along in a more efficient fashion, taking the early pieces that feel underdeveloped and making the most of them. Lubitsch set out to make an epic to prove to producers that he could work on Hollywood scales, and it's where the movie shines. There's a large battle as Ethiopia invades that's handled really well. It's not just for show either, providing a plot twist that the film follows through on, changing dynamics late in the game in rather drastic ways. It seems like, for a moment, that we're getting some sort of storybook ending where all is well and it's a weird feeling, but there's tragedy to be had hinging on the surprise return of a thought-dead character. These historical movies from Lubitsch really do embrace the tragedy (my favorite final moment being the title character's head in a basket in Madame DuBarry), and he's only ever hampered by his weakness with characters in the silent film space.

I don't think he quite overcomes the inherent weaknesses of character, but Lubitsch ends his German period with his strongest historical film. I still think he's demonstrated a more natural strength in silly, witty comedies than this heavier stuff, but he's also proven to be a competent filmmaker in a variety of genres, if he hasn't really demonstrated a strong command of the silent film form that someone like Fritz Lang had done in the same environment. I look forward to him finishing out the silent period working in Hollywood and making the transition to sound. If anyone needed the transition to sound most, it probably was Ernst Lubitsch.

I viewed an incomplete print of 'The Wife of the Pharaoh' that was reconstructed (from several sources) by Stephan Droessler of the Film Museum in Munich. Even in remnant form, this is a phenomenal film: an epic piece of film-making, with 6,000 extras and elaborate sets. 'The Wife of the Pharaoh' is the nearest Ernst Lubitsch came to making a film like 'Metropolis'.

'The Wife of the Pharaoh' was released in 1922, the same year that Englishman Howard Carter unsealed Tutankhamen's tomb ... but at this time, much of the most important work in Egyptology was being done by Germans, and German interest in ancient Egypt was high indeed. This film is set in dynastic Egypt (Middle Kingdom, by the look of it) ... and the sets, costumes and props are vastly more convincing than anything done by Hollywood in this same era in films such as 'King of Kings', "Noah's Ark" and the Babylonian sequences of 'Intolerance'.

There are of course a few errors in this movie: the elaborate Double Crown symbolising the two kingdoms of Egypt is the proper size and shape, yet the actors heft it about so easily that it's clearly a prop made from some improbably light substance. The pharaoh receives papyrus scrolls bearing messages written in hieroglyphics; this is wrong (the messages would have been written in hieratic, and the king would probably require a scribe to read them on his behalf), yet somebody made a commendable effort to use the proper hieroglyphics ... which is more than Universal Studios bothered to do in any of those 1930s mummy flicks.

Emil Jannings gives an operatic performance as the (fictional) king Amenes. The king of the Ethiopians (Paul Wegener), hoping to make peace with Egypt, offers his daughter Theonis to become the wife of Amenes.

But Theonis falls in love with Ramphis, the handsome son of the king's adviser Sothis. (Ramphis wears a hairdo stolen from Prince Valiant: one of the few really ludicrous errors in this film.) Amenes sentences the lovers to death, then offers to spare Ramphis from execution (sentencing him to hard labour for life) if Theonis will consent to love only Amenes.

There are some truly spectacular scenes in this film, very impressive even in the partial form which I viewed. Paul Wegener gives a fine performance as Samlak, king of the Ethiopians, but he looks like he escaped from a minstrel show: to portray an Ethiopian, Wegener wears blackface and body make-up, and a truly terrible Afro wig. And since his daughter Theonis is presumably also an Ethiopian, why is she white?

There are fine performances by Lyda Salmonova as a (white) Ethiopian slave-girl (the nearest equivalent to Aida in this operatic story) and by Albert Bassermann as the adviser who is spitefully blinded at the pharaoh's order. Theodor Sparkuhl's camera work is superlative, as always, and the art direction is brilliant. Although I viewed only an incomplete version of this film, I've read a surviving screenplay; the script (with some lapses in logic) is definitely the most ridiculous part of this film. But the favourable aspects of this movie very definitely outweigh its flaws. I'll rate 'The Wife of the Pharaoh' 9 out of 10.

One hundred years or more later there remains a great magic to silent cinema that the very best of modern fare often simply cannot match. The earnest simplicity of developing techniques and technology, the common differences in acting and otherwise communication of a story without sound, the rush to dazzle with a new art form, and the constant innovations and pushing of boundaries combine into a perfect storm of circumstances that filmmakers in the twenty-first century just can't replicate, even with all the advantages they might claim. Wherever a production specifically aims for epic drama and grandeur that magic is only reinforced, and for whatever comparisons one may deign to draw, I don't think there's much arguing that Ernst Lubitsch's 'Das Weib des Pharao' counts among such company. The man was known primarily for his fantastic comedy in his prolific career, but it's readily evident that he was capable of anything to which he put his mind. Him and haw about particulars and frames of reference as we may, this is a phenomenal, essential film that raptly captures the imagination and remains well worth exploring decades later.

It's deeply unfortunate that portions of the original release remain missing, presumably lost over time, and we can only hope that some day they might be found in some hidden corner of an attic, cellar, or archive and restored in the same manner as the rest. Be that as it may, this certainly isn't the only picture to exist in a somewhat incomplete form, and as with other examples, those who meticulously assembled the extant piece filled in the gaps as necessary with what representative stills could be gathered, and intertitles to provide necessary explanation of plot. With that in mind one must applaud these technicians and institutions for working so mightily to preserve our cultural history - not least as Lubitsch's movie really is a blast, highly deserving on its own merits and handily impressing. Regular Lubitsch collaborator Hanns Kräly and co-writer Norbert Falk penned a strong, intensely compelling story of cruel, haughty kings, the people over whom they wantonly wield their power, and the small folk and affairs of the heart that would defy such imposing figures. Robust scene writing ranges from large battles and violence, to quiet malevolence and manipulation, to love, valor, heroism, and tragedy, and the story is firmly engaging, satisfying, and outright fulfilling all the while.

To the same extent that the director so ably crafted his comedies with wild antics and boisterous energy, every shot and scene in 'Das Weib des Pharao' is shaped with a mind for capturing the momentous weight of the saga, for mesmerizing with spectacular sights, and at no few points, for splendid artistry. From Lubitsch's shrewd vision and shot composition, to the sharp eyes of cinematographers Alfred Hansen and Theodor Sparkuhl, to even the lighting, the fundamental presentation is outstanding. That magnificence is made easier, of course, with fabulous, detailed sets, costume design, hair, and makeup, meeting the highest standards of like-minded contemporary flicks - nevermind innumerable extras, excellent stunts and effects, and not least, an exceptional cast. While Emil Jannings would go on to taint his legacy with his political dealings, there's no disputing that he was a terrific actor who commanded looming presence in addition to fine range and nuance. This is hardly to count out his co-stars, however, for all others involved, from Harry Liedtke to German titan Paul Wegener, from Paul Biensfeldt to Lyda Salmonova, and especially Dagny Servaes, all give superb performances that bring the rich drama to vivid life. It is true, perhaps, that the acting here is broadly characterized by the more exaggerated facial expressions and body language that typified the silent era. So marvelous and absorbing are these 100 minutes, though, that I don't think any but the most hard-nosed of modern viewers could take issue with the style as it presents; furthermore, there are plenty of instances where the acting reaches beyond those bounds to reflect the more natural and sophisticated method modern viewers are familiar with, and in such instances the result is nothing less than brilliant.

It can't be overstated how grand and striking this is from start to finish, and at times downright bewitching; it's obvious Lubitsch aimed to leave a big mark on the world of cinema, and show what he was capable of, and he definitely succeeded. The tale is flush with vibrant, meaningful emotions as conflicts brew and the mood varies; we get villains just as much as champions, enticing tension and suspense as much as heartwarming or heartbreaking tenderness, and major, thrilling action sequences just as much as affective, substantial scenes of just two characters testing each other's will. No matter what a moment calls for the writing, acting, direction, and craftsmanship are all just as stupendous in realizing a story that in my opinion quite deserves to be mentioned alongside more famous epics of both silence and sound. In one manner or another one is reminded of Fred Niblo's 'Ben-Hur' of 1925, or the 1959 adaptation with Charlton Heston; the works of Cecil B. DeMille come to mind in the largest and most complex sequences, whether one wishes to point to 'The ten commandments' or something else; this moreover finds kinship with the artistic eye of Swedish icon Victor Sjöström, who often employed the very sets and filming locations in a spellbinding fashion that made the very environs seem to come alive, not to mention infusion of a keen, intimate psychological approach. All these are certainly huge names to drop in speaking of Ernst Lubitsch and this 1922 title, but for my part I think 'Das Weib des Pharao' has absolutely earned the right to join such esteemed company.

I assumed I would enjoy this simply for the fact that I've loved most everything I've seen from the German legend. Frankly, high as my expectations were, they still have been far exceeded. Early in the length the storytelling might seem to drag a bit, but as the narrative advances and events escalate it becomes more and more captivating. In no time I was wholly swept away and could scarcely remove my eyes from the screen; I could hardly be happier with how good this is. In fact, while there are elements here that are part and parcel of everything we assume of the early years of the medium - for better and for worse - it's also true that there are fantastic touches of subtlety and underhanded intelligence in every odd and end, from minutiae of the storytelling, to the incredible labor of those operating behind the scenes, to Lubitsch's direction, and even the acting. There are tiny moments where I wonder if Servaes hasn't managed to outshine Jannings with the depth of emotion she carries with tact that is arguably more discreet, yet then Jannings, or Liedtke, or someone else leaps out just as surely. From smart tinting to smart effects and editing, through every beat, idea, and feeling, 'Das Weib des Pharao' is a tremendous, arresting, flavorful classic that still stuns over one hundred years on. I may even go so far as to say that this is a picture that exists beyond questions of personal preference; as far as I'm concerned it's altogether wonderful, and fully demands viewership. I'm pleased to give this treasure my very highest, heartiest, most enthusiastic recommendation; in my book 'Das Weib des Pharao' is worth going out of your way to see!

The Loves of Pharaoh (1922)

*** (out of 4)

Imressive German epic from Ernst Lubitsch about the war that breaks out when an Ethiopian King (Paul Wegener) offers his daughter to a Pharaoh (Emil Jannings) but she then falls his love with one of his servants. THE LOVES OF PHARAOH is a very impressive silent thanks in large part to the wonderful visuals and mammoth sets, which certainly make this rank right up there with the work that D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille were doing around this same time. I think the most impressive thing is how massive the sets are and how many extras were used during the battle sequences. There are some moments here that make you want to pause the film just so you can get a better look of everything that's going on. The greatest sequence comes towards the end of the picture when we see a giant hill where the camera is pointing straight at it. The action then starts and you see hundreds of people at the bottom of the hill fighting with hundreds more coming from over the hill, down in and into the battle. These scenes are just so big that you can't help but wonder how long it must have taken just to get one shot. The performances are another major plus with Jannings doing an excellent job with the villain. I thought he was extremely believable in the part and he never goes overboard with his madness. I also really enjoyed seeing Wegener here as the "look" from THE GOLEM is still here. Lubitsch does a masterful job at building up all the action but I think the film's one flaw is the screenplay. I never really cared about any of the characters and I found the story to be a tad bit too dull for its own good. Several portions of the film are still missing so photos are put in the missing segments place.

For Ernst Lubitsch, the phenomenal international success of his films 'Carmen' (D 1918), 'Madame Dubarry' (D 1919) and 'Anna Boleyn' (D 1920) were the springboard to Hollywood. In order to finalize the deal he followed them up with another major production of the same kind: , 'Das Weib des Pharao' He travelled to the American premiere in New York, promptly entered into negotiations with the largest film company in the world at the time, Paramount Famous-Lasky, and was soon directing his first American film.

Not only did Lubitsch shoot 'The Pharaoh's Wife' in the style of his earlier international box office hits, he also utilised the unique location advantages in Germany for the last time. In the years before the currency reform of 1923 monumental films could be realised in Berlin with a budget that would not even have allowed a short comedy to be cranked out elsewhere. In and around Berlin the most elaborate sets were created for the film, which effortlessly transported the audience to the banks of the Nile. Thousands of extras milled around these enormous structures.

But all this does not make a Lubitsch film. In the monumental ancient Egyptian buildings, dressed in pharaonic splendour and adorned with jewels, we meet real people with all their weaknesses and shortcomings. And this is where the film benefits from another advantage of its location. Almost all the roles are played by the first guard of Berlin theatre actors, who breathe real life into the stiff sets. Emil Jannings, Paul Wegener, Harry Liedtke, Lyda Salmonova, Albert Bassermann, Paul Biensfeldt and Dagny Servaes vie for power and love in front of the camera in this photoplay.

The King of Ethiopia (Wegener) travels to the Egyptian Pharaoh Amenes (Jannings) to form an entente and seal it with the hand of his daughter (Salmonova). On the way, the young Ramphis (Liedtke) woos the Greek slave Theonis (Servaes) away from him. Ramphis is the son of Sothis (Bassermann), the master builder of the royal treasure house. Theonis and Ramphis approach the treasure house without permission and are sentenced to death. But Amenes falls head over heels in love with the beautiful Greek woman and even falls out with the king of the Ethiopians over her. On the condition that Ramphis remains alive, Theonis agrees to marry Amenes.

Now war breaks out against Ethiopia. Amenes has to take to the field and as Theonis does not want to swear allegiance to him, he has her walled into the new treasure house and blinds the master builder for safety. Ramphis, who is doing forced labour in the quarries, organises a revolt, comes back to Thebes and frees his beloved with the help of his father's building plans. Amenes' army is defeated by the Ethiopians and the pharaoh himself is left for dead in the desert. Under Ramphi's leadership, the inhabitants of Thebes defend their city. Cheered by the people Theonis chooses Ramphis as her husband and new pharaoh. But then Amenes, who was thought to be dead, returns.

The ten-month filming of 'The Pharaoh's Wife' cost around 18 million marks. As the American magazine Variety calculated at the time, this equated to around 80,000 dollars. Although the film could not quite match the success of Lubitsch's earlier productions in the USA, this sum was quickly recouped and nothing stood in the way of the first German star director's move to Hollywood.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

"Das Weib Des Pharao" (1922) has been one of the most anticipated silent film restorations released in this modernen year. September saw the long awaited premiere of the film which was superbly restored thanks to the efforts of different European institutions. This little known Herr Ernst Lubitsch movie of his German period is now available to the joy of silent film fans around the world.

"Das Weib Des Pharao" was the last film directed by Herr Lubitsch before he departed to Amerika where his career was very different in terms of artistic style and goals. Certainly "Das Weib Des Pharao" is characteristic of his work during his Teutonic epoch.

First of all, the film is "kolossal": magnificent décors, lavish and gorgeous costumes, crowd scenes astonishing in the number of extras employed. This huge production and Herr Lubitsch's mastery transports the audience back to ancient Egypt.

But "Das Weib Des Pharao", spectacular art direction and staging notwithstanding, is also a tormented love story, intimate and nuanced and combining seamlessly with the more spectacular dimension of the plot, the war between the king of Ethiopia Herr Samlak ( Herr Paul Wegener ) and the pharaoh Herr Amenes ( Herr Emil Jannings ). The conflict begins when the king of Ethiopia invades Egypt because his daughter, Frau Makeda ( Frau Lyda Salmonova ) has been rejected by Herr Amenes due to his infatuation with Frau Theonis (Frau Dagny Servaies), namely slave of Frau Makeda. To complicate matters, Theonis is in love with Herr Ramphis (Herr Harry Liedtke). Theonis, against her will, becomes the Queen of Egypt. Tragedy follows for all.

This Herr Von was absolutely fascinated during the scenes between the pharaoh Amenes and the beautiful slave Theonis; Jannings' restrained performance shows all the pain and longing of unrequited love as he vainly tries to win her favour. Some of the scenes are in lovely chiaroscuro; the cinematography by Herr Alfred Hansen und Herr Theodor Sparkhul is brilliant.

"Das Weib Des Pharao" is for this German count a very special Lubistch oeuvre, combining the characteristics of a "kolossal" picture with intimate melodrama. None of the Lubitsch wit is on hand and there is certainly no humor in the film to lighten the story. It remains serious all the way through and is without concessions, making it a very unique Lubitsch film whose rediscovery is a great gift to lovers of the Silent Era.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count has an appointment with his beautiful Teutonic slave instead of one of his fat German heiresses.

It is very difficult to adequately judge "The Loves of a Pharaoh" today. Most of this is because the film has been pieced together--much like a jigsaw puzzle that is still missing a few pieces. While the restored film is better than the insane re-creation of "London After Midnight" (where NONE of the original film exists and it is basically just a slide show with intertitle cards to fill in the gaps), it still isn't exactly complete. About a half dozen times during "The Loves of Pharaoh", scenes are missing and intertitle cards and stills are employed. Because of this, I am choosing not to give a numerical score for the film.

The story is set in ancient Egypt and I'd sure love to know exactly where it was filmed. According to IMDb, it was filmed in Berlin--but what about the desert scenes with huge dunes--they sure don't look like Berlin!

It begins with the king of Ethiopia pledging his daughter to the Pharaoh in order to cement an alliance. However, soon after, the Ethiopian princess' slave, Theonis, is spirited away by the rather dumb Ramphis. When Ramphis and Theonis are caught hiding in the Pharaoh's treasury, they are sentenced to death. But, inexplicably, the Pharaoh is so smitten with Theonis that he agrees to instead send Ramphis to work as a slave and marries Theonis. Considering he doesn't know this woman at all AND marrying her would bring on a war with Ethiopia, Pharaoh's behaviors seem irrational and silly. Just what happens next? See this epic silent and find out for yourself.

While the acting and style of the film is rather dated (even compared to other silents), the film is still rather impressive. It features a huge cast, terrific sets and lots of nice costumes. So, while the story is very weak and overly melodramatic, the overall look of the film is nice. Director Ernst Lubitsch clearly created an spectacle here--albeit one with a plot that needed a re-write as much of it just made little sense. Worth seeing once and a chance to see Oscar-winning Emil Jannings in an early film role as the Pharaoh.