Michael

It is sometimes fascinating the subject matter for films before the infamous Code was put in Hollywood. Of course this is a German silent film and in those days when movies didn't talk all one had to do was change the subtitles and film was really universal. Such is the case with Michael, a romantic triangle the apex of which was Walter Slezak in his salad days. He was beloved by both an aristocratic artist and one carnal princess.

In less than a decade when the Nazis took over and made the UFA Studio their personal propaganda reserve such homoerotic work like Michael would not see the light of day for years. I'm really surprised that a print existed and that TCM obtained one. I would have thought Josef Goebbels would have burned all he could find.

Without a kiss, without an embrace, but with a look of love that tells all, we know exactly what the relationship Benjamin Christiansen has with Slezak. Slezak plays the title role, a callow youth a willing user of the affections of all in the same manner Murray Head was in Sunday Bloody Sunday. Slezak was quite the hunk in his youth to those of us who remember him from Hollywood in the Forties.

Nora Gregor plays the princess who eyes Slezak like a side of beef on the meat rack at the Playgirl Club. He's getting tired of Christiansen anyway so he's hot to trot as his she.

Christiansen is a sad and lonely old man and his performance really drives the film. His and Slezak's relationship also reminds me a bit of the famous relationship played out in the tabloids of Scott Thorson and Liberace. Another young cutie who was showered with everything, but just wanted his own space.

It's a good thing this gay themed story did survive and is available now for home viewing on DVD. A great piece of gay cinematic history.

I invite any who see this to compare it to Novios búlgaros, Los (2003).

The stories are remarkably similar. An older man is attracted to a younger and the younger (while primarily attracted to women) is willing to be the object of adoration provided that it pays well.

In this film the older painter is taken at every opportunity by his younger model (and ward). And somehow the younger man is not painted as being a complete villain.

Also of interest to me was a minor subplot, when the famous artist is attempting to paint a princess who has commissioned a portrait the artist struggles more than he has with any other painting (The earlier paintings that we see are all of men) In this one he simply cannot get the eyes right. His young model/ward (who first came to him as an aspiring painter) makes an attempt and gets it right at his first go. Perhaps what was symbolized here was that the eyes are the windows to the soul and the famous painter (who's only attracted to men) cannot see into the souls of women while his young ward (who has slept with the woman at this point) can do so easily.

This film was remarkably well made for its day and while it does show some creaky signs of age, it is much more modern appearing than many of the films that came out of Hollywood much later.

The movie was fascinating even with no sound (which made a Swan Lake ballet sequence seem a bit weird) and the subtitles in the print I saw were in Danish (English translations were handed out before the show but did little good in a darkened theatre).

If you want to see fully one half of all gay themed films released in the 20's in one go, this may be your ticket. BTW... the other gay themed film made in the 20's Flesh and the Devil (1926) has much less gay oriented theme and is also available on VHS

A famous painter named Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) falls in love with one of his models, Michael (Walter Slezak), and for a time the two live happily as partners. Zoret is considerably older than Michael, and as they age, Michael begins to drift from him, although Zoret is completely blind to this.

Directed by the great Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer, who went on to direct "The Passion of Joan of Arc", called by some "the most influential film of all time". Written by Dreyer, and Thea von Harbou, who is now probably best known as Fritz Lang's wife. Produced by Erich Pommer, which cinematography by Karl Freund. As far as 1920s German cinema goes, this is top drawer.

Along with "Different From the Others" (1919) and "Sex in Chains" (1928), "Michael" is widely considered a landmark in gay silent cinema. It has also been suggested that the film reflects personal feelings harbored by Dreyer after a purported homosexual affair, though I have no evidence of that.

This film was pretty great, despite being silent and foreign. Those factors took nothing away from the experience for me, and I have to give credit to Dreyer and the cast -- the film is full of very intense faces, which made up for the lack of any audible emotion.

What drew me to this film was having cameraman Karl Freund on camera. A genius behind it, this is a rare treat to see the man in front and caught on film. His role is fairly small, but captures his movements and body language in a way that no photograph ever could. To my knowledge, this was his last acting role in a film.

The film has been cited to have influenced several directors. Alfred Hitchcock drew upon motifs from "Michael" for his script for "The Blackguard" (1925).

Silent films are a purely visual medium, and fittingly, it's the visuals that first catch our eye, and that arguably received the most attention in 'Michael.' The production design and art direction are outstanding. The sets are flush with fetching design and decoration, immediately standing out from the opening scene onward and inculcating a definite feeling of art and luxury. Hugo Häring's costume design is wonderful, quietly vibrant and handily matching the surroundings. If to a lesser extent, even the hair and makeup work is distinct and notable. And on top of all this, Karl Freund and Rudolph Maté's cinematography remains crisp and vivid almost 100 years later, allowing every detail to pop out; clearly the effort to preserve the title has been very successful. Factor in some careful, precise shot composition by director Carl Theodor Dreyer, and one can only praise the craft of the feature as rich and satisfying.

There's a surprising trend toward nuance in the performances here. Much of the silent era was characterized by acting in the style of stage plays, with exaggerated body language and facial expressions to compensate for the lack of sound or spoken dialogue. In 'Michael,' it seems to me like the cast tend to strike a balance. Very often the faintest shift in their comportment is all that is necessary to communicate the thoughts and feelings of their roles, and it's a pleasure to watch, especially as it would be a few more years before cinema at large leaned the same way. No one actor here stands out, but they all fill their parts very capably.

The drift toward subtlety doesn't entirely work in the movie's favor, however. Fine as the screenplay is, the personalities and complexities of characters are generally so subdued that one could be forgiven for thinking that they haven't any at all. Dialogue as related through intertitles is suitable but unremarkable as it advances the plot. The scene writing that dictates the arrangement and flow of any given moment, and instructs the cast as such, is the most actively engaging aspect of 'Michael' as the whole is built bit by bit. The overall narrative is duly engaging for the interpersonal drama within, but that's all the more that can be truly said of it. There are prominent themes of unrequited love. There are LGBTQ themes running throughout, too, but they are so heavily downplayed (for good reason, in fairness; see Paragraph 175) that they're all but undetectable without the aid of outside analysis.

Lush visuals greet us, and a story is imparted - but as we watch, it's not a story that especially conveys the weight and impact of the course of events as characters feel them. It mostly just is. That's deeply unfortunate, because though sorrowful, there are great ideas here that should most certainly inspire emotional investment in viewers. It seems to me that the utmost heart of the production is somehow restrained, diminishing the value of the experience. Only near the very end do I sense any particular spark; I want to like it more than I do, but this title simply doesn't strike a chord with me in the way that other silent classics have.

Perhaps I would get more out of 'Michael,' as others surely have, if I were to watch it again. I definitely think it's worth watching - only, I don't see it as being an essential piece of film in the way that other pictures are. The sharpest story beats are sadly dulled, and those less significant rounding details that first greeted us are in fact what most leaves an impression - but all the same, if you have the chance to watch 'Michael,' these are 95 minutes that still hold up fairly well.

This is a beautiful film, in its rich mise-en-scène and gorgeous cinematography. It resembles in polished photography, including how well it has remained over the years, the better-looking Hollywood films at the end of the silent era. The lighting is great, creating a very clear and crisp picture, with many subtle effects. And, the interior furnishings are lush.

"Michael" is a moving film, and I think that has more to do with the photography and settings than with the drama. The implicit homosexual relationship between the artist and his model, Michael, is curious, though. What I especially like about the narrative, however, is that it's about art--a very apt subject, which is heightened by the photography. Benjamin Christensen plays the aging artist, which is a significant casting decision, given that he was the great Danish filmmaker to precede Dreyer. Christensen had worked as an actor in his own films, so he's fully capable in this role. Additionally, cinematographer Karl Freund, who changed the role of the camera the same year in "The Last Laugh", has a small role as an art dealer.

Overall, Dreyer does better here with the actors than he previously had. He achieves a nice pacing, as well, except for a few mistimed editing cues, which are too quick. Even the subplot, for mood affect, works. It's a mature work--probably his first--resembling his later films in many ways.