Well-produced, but problematic
Louise Glaum reportedly put $5,000 of her own money into this production (by one account about $64,000 today), as well as deferring her fee and sewing her own costumes. So I was expecting the movie to look pretty bare bones, but it's actually quite lavish, with a full complement of extras, and exotic tableaux that make a satisfying "Cairo" setting (at least the characters start in Cairo; it's a bit hard to tell where they go next). Stumar's cinematography particularly stands out in moonlit scenes, and the intertitles are little works of art, with background paintings and high-style calligraphy. We saw a pretty nice print at the Essanay Silent Film Museum in Niles, CA, and there was a brief glimpse of color that indicated the film was originally tinted, but sadly the color has been lost for now.
Despite the glamorous look of the film, I wouldn't recommend it to most casual viewers. The plot is muddled, and the film is nakedly white supremacist in a way that's uncommonly stark even for the time. Paradoxically, African-American actor Noble Johnson actually has a substantial featured role, with (written) lines and a character arc, and most of the "ethnic" characters are actually played by people of appropriate races, but the story goes ridiculously out of its way to make the Africans appear inferior to the white "bwana." The Englishman even supposedly knows the location of the water holes better than the natives do! Insane. At one odd moment, Johnson's character moves to kill an animal with a spear, and is overshadowed by the white man with a rifle...it told a little story about colonialism and change in a few microcosmic moments, but the filmmaker's point seemed just to be a simplistic "guns are better." Johnson's acting in the scene, however, made me wonder.
The story also seems conflicted about how much agency to allow the female lead. She does make some active choices, and is clearly the (anti?)heroine of the film, but part of the time she's portrayed as strangely weak and not very successful as the scheming femme fatale she's advertised as. This is not Glaum's fault, but the scenario writer's. Glaum's looks won't be as popular with modern viewers as they were back in the day, but she plays her part with conviction. And the costumes she (with her sister and mother) made are standouts; many of them reminded me of the Vienna Workshop, and some would fit right into a Gustav Klimt painting.
Slightly paunchy but still attractive, House Peters is believably resolute as the intrepid "great white hunter" (though less plausible as a man who commands total deference from the much fitter servants around him...however, he does carry a big rifle), but his character is so entitled and obnoxious that I found myself rooting for the femme fatale even at her most law-breaking. Unwittingly, the Peters character shows that the patriarchy is more trouble than it's worth, as he seems to spend 99% of his waking hours bluffing that he's in total control at all times, and it looks exhausting.
Extra tidbits: a zebra in the film appears to be played by a painted donkey, perhaps visiting from Tijuana.
This may be the only film you ever see in which glaucoma--or the film's idea of glaucoma, anyway--plays an important role in the plot.
I haven't yet found how this film did back in 1920, but the producer supposedly stowed away on a boat to France without paying his debts.
Despite the glamorous look of the film, I wouldn't recommend it to most casual viewers. The plot is muddled, and the film is nakedly white supremacist in a way that's uncommonly stark even for the time. Paradoxically, African-American actor Noble Johnson actually has a substantial featured role, with (written) lines and a character arc, and most of the "ethnic" characters are actually played by people of appropriate races, but the story goes ridiculously out of its way to make the Africans appear inferior to the white "bwana." The Englishman even supposedly knows the location of the water holes better than the natives do! Insane. At one odd moment, Johnson's character moves to kill an animal with a spear, and is overshadowed by the white man with a rifle...it told a little story about colonialism and change in a few microcosmic moments, but the filmmaker's point seemed just to be a simplistic "guns are better." Johnson's acting in the scene, however, made me wonder.
The story also seems conflicted about how much agency to allow the female lead. She does make some active choices, and is clearly the (anti?)heroine of the film, but part of the time she's portrayed as strangely weak and not very successful as the scheming femme fatale she's advertised as. This is not Glaum's fault, but the scenario writer's. Glaum's looks won't be as popular with modern viewers as they were back in the day, but she plays her part with conviction. And the costumes she (with her sister and mother) made are standouts; many of them reminded me of the Vienna Workshop, and some would fit right into a Gustav Klimt painting.
Slightly paunchy but still attractive, House Peters is believably resolute as the intrepid "great white hunter" (though less plausible as a man who commands total deference from the much fitter servants around him...however, he does carry a big rifle), but his character is so entitled and obnoxious that I found myself rooting for the femme fatale even at her most law-breaking. Unwittingly, the Peters character shows that the patriarchy is more trouble than it's worth, as he seems to spend 99% of his waking hours bluffing that he's in total control at all times, and it looks exhausting.
Extra tidbits: a zebra in the film appears to be played by a painted donkey, perhaps visiting from Tijuana.
This may be the only film you ever see in which glaucoma--or the film's idea of glaucoma, anyway--plays an important role in the plot.
I haven't yet found how this film did back in 1920, but the producer supposedly stowed away on a boat to France without paying his debts.
- claudecat
- 1 févr. 2020