Le coeur sur la main

This lovely and poignant silent film is almost lyrical and poetic in its construction. The cinematography is wonderful, since it was actually filmed on location in a little town in Virginia, and the cast is perfect, with the two leads, Richard Barthelmess and Gladys Hulette, simply breathtakingly beautiful to watch. One can easily see why Lillian Gish stated that Richard had the most beautiful male face in the movies.

The plot revolves around the coming of age of the lead male character, and how evil circumstances creep up on a simple country family, which force the youngest son (Barthelmess) to grow up quickly.

The only negative in my experience of watching the film came from the Robert Israel soundtrack. On the DVD version I watched much of the soundtrack sounds like it was recorded at 100% volume and a grating, blasting hum can be heard through many scenes, in the beginning especially. I don't know if the video version has the same fault. Whenever the piano played solo this wasn't a problem. I had to keep the volume really low so I wouldn't notice the blasts.

A lovely film otherwise. I rated it 9 out of 10.

In many ways this silent classic reminded me of what I liked-- and didn't like-- about a much more recent film, Sling Blade. Both are sensitively observed movies that not only depict but genuinely seem to embody the simpler rhythms of country life. And both ultimately end in a way that may satisfy an audience's bloodlust-- but left me somewhat dismayed that the story had taken that turn. (The violence makes the movie seem much more modern than most films of its time.) That said, there's no denying that this was one of the most accomplished movies of its time; Barthelmess's portrait of eager juvenility is beautifully observed and completely charming, and King's handling is quite sophisticated in the way it tells a story through the eyes of a character who is really secondary to the action through the first half or so.

In Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard," a forgotten silent-film actress, Norma Desmond, explained the appeal of silent stars: "we had faces then!" In the musical version of that classic, the lyric "…with one look I'm the girl (or boy) next door…" expanded on the visual powers of silent film actors. Each of those lines could have been written for handsome, charismatic Richard Barthelmess, the star of Henry King's "Tol'able David." Although his too-short pants vainly attempt to obscure the actor's maturity, Barthelmess manages to convince the audience that he is a boy at the edge of manhood. Through his dark eyes, body language, and facial expressions, Barthelmess literally becomes "the boy next door" without uttering a syllable.

"Tol'able David" may be too sentimental and occasionally too hokey for modern audiences, but, if viewed in the context of the post World War I period, the bucolic Americana story is engaging. Like the United States in the years leading up to the Great War, belligerent outsiders disrupt David's idyllic family life, and the young boy becomes a man in the fight to restore his world. The tale is simple, but universal. Enhanced by location filming in Virginia, "Tol'able David" provides a glimpse of country life in the early 20th century. However, produced in 1921, the film preceded the golden period of silent movies that was reached in the late 1920's, and the technical perfection and acting subtleties of that later period are lacking here. Although Ernest Torrence makes a formidable, frightening villain, neither his appearance nor his performance are subtle, and he owes more to the oft-parodied "grand style" of the early silents than to the nuanced acting that evolved later in the decade. However, Barthelmess and his leading lady, Gladys Hulette, perform admirably, even in a broad comic scene with a barrel that seems to have been taken from another movie.

Henry King keeps the story moving, although his camera did not achieve the fluidity that distinguishes later silents. A transitional film made between the innovative days of Griffith and the heights of Murnau, Vidor, and von Stroheim, "Tol'able David" remains entertaining and affectionate towards a vanished way of life and a lost style of film-making. If the viewer can transport him or herself back in time, a dazzling star and a film with genuine warmth and sentiment will immerse the audience in the days when "sentimental" was not a four-letter word.

Prepared to find this silent feature mawkish and slow, I got a pleasant surprise. This story of a boy's coming-of-age in rural America before the age of the automobile is somewhat sentimental and melodramatic, but never gratingly so. (And I can't sit through the 1934 "Little Women.") Richard Barthelmess is simply superb as the hero, capturing the changing moods, the giddy grandeur, silliness, and seriousness of the adolescent male. It's superb silent acting: his face goes from boyish to mature as the scenes demand. Also excellent is Ernest Torrence as the chief villain, who plays his outlaw not as just mean or greedy but genuinely creepy: he revels in the suffering of other creatures. Thus the movie suggests interesting things about the nature of criminality. It looks great, too: shot on location, beautifully composed, and with effective use of tinted film stock.

This pastoral melodrama still packs a punch after nearly a century, mostly thanks to a lovingly produced scenario concocted by director Henry King with screenwriter (and future director) Edmund Goulding, from a Joseph Hergesheimer short story, and featuring a nearly flawless cast led by the charismatic Richard Barthelmess.

There is nothing fancy here except perhaps some overdone Griffith-style editing flourishes at the climax which artificially prolong the action, stretching its essential slam-bang quality into something resembling the slow motion stylization that caught on in the Sixties (Bonnie & Clyde's ending, for instance).

Generally, the pacing, setup and unfolding of the story are smooth and sure; the characters are authentically embodied and intelligently cast; the acting is subtle and for the most part realistic; the photography reveals all of the necessary information without ever calling attention to itself. The full spectrum of human emotional and spiritual states are covered. The themes are as old as the Virginia hills in which the story takes place: God, family, home, good vs evil, kindness vs cruelty, mother love, personal responsibility, coming of age, the cycle of birth, aging and death.

Ernest Torrence, in real life as civilized and cultivated a man as one could hope to encounter, plays a despicable criminal, who with his father and younger brother comprise a trio of sociopaths. The way he is photographed and choreographed heavily underscores his wickedness, but this kind of heightened presentation was a staple of silent cinema both in the US and abroad. The height and body language of the three bad-guy actors is in marked contrast to the families they afflict, adding a visual dimension to their essential natures. The least satisfying acting comes from Warner Richmond, who too often substitutes stupid grinning for characterization as the title character's strapping older brother. But Marion Abbott never cloys as the emotionally ravaged mother, and Gladys Hulette is the perfect country girl next door. Barthelmass is the soul of the film and perhaps never equaled this performance.