La dame aux camélias

Valentino was still something of an unknown quantity when this film was made, and although it was adapted from the screen by his mentor June Mathis and designed by his wife Natasha Rambova, CAMILLE is not a Valentino film. It belongs instead to Alla Nazimova, whose eccentric charm that combined both frantic gaiety and an exhausted world-weariness made her the most highly regarded "high-art" performer of her day.

Surely by now every one knows at least the basic outline of the story, which French author Dumas drew from life: Marguerite Gautier (Nazimova) is a celebrated courtesan who despises her life and yet cannot break free of it. When confronted with true love in the form of society youth Armand (Valentino), however, she attempts to leave her past behind--only to be convinced by her lover's father that if she really loves Armand she must leave him that he might take his rightful place in society. She returns to her old life, where she dies of consumption with her one true love's name upon her lips.

Nazimova, who is credited with introducing the Russian "method" to the New York stage, is an extremely interesting Camille. Unlike the later Garbo, she offers us a truly neurotic creature who in public screams with nervous energy--and then in private collapses under the twin weights of self-loathing and her increasing illness. At times her performance goes as far over the top as her hairstyle, but the cumulative result is exceptionally affecting. Valentino is typically Valentino, with an intriguing presence that relies more upon appearance than actual skill, and his performance adds no significant dimension to the part of Armand; this may, however, be an unfair criticism, for the role is notoriously thankless.

Rambova's strange set design for Marguerite's apartment is a highlight of the film and worth studying, very 1920s modern and yet still far advanced of anything commonly seen in even contemporary decor, and the cinematography gives CAMILLE an effectively lyrical feel. All in all, the film might best be considered as a high-art experiment that does not entirely come off, but even so it gives us the opportunity to see Nazimov near the height of her appeal, and as such is recommended to all silent film fans.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

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.

Next to Greta Garbo's sound classic version and not counting filmed productions of La Traviata, the best known filmed version Alexander Dumas's story Camille is this 1921 version that starred the great Russian actress, Alla Nazimova. But what was more important is that a lot of film fans got their first glimpse of another legend in Rudolph Valentino. In the same year of 1921 Rudy also got his career making role in The Four Horseman Of The Apocalypse. Together with Camille where he played Armand Duval assured his career and who would have known there would only be five more years.

This version only runs 70 minutes and I've got to wonder whether the folks at Metro Pictures left a lot on the cutting room floor. Though Valentino and Nazimova were great as were the rest of the cast, I have to wonder that there's a whole lot more that was made.

Nazimova is a whole lot less subtle in her acting than Greta Garbo, still she carries the part well. Valentino however is as perfect as Robert Taylor in the sound version. It's a role that calls for one to be callow, bumptious, and terribly sincere all at the same time. Both Taylor and Valentino had the delicacy of features to carry it off. And I've heard Valentino's speaking voice and I think he could have done this in sound as well.

We may yet get another version of Camille, but I can't imagine who among today's players could play either Marguerite Gauthier and Armand Duval with the same earnestness.

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.

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.