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Silent drama about gay painter Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) and his model/lover Mikael (Walter Slezak). A beautiful countess (Nora Gregor) commissions Zoret to paint her. He does but Mikael starts to fall in love with her. He drifts farther apart from Zoret and their relationship begins to crumble...

Being a gay man and a film addict I was surprised I had never heard of this film! It just popped up unannounced on TCM and I'm glad I taped it. A 1924 film dealing with gay men was way ahead of its time. Their relationship is not made explicit--it's mostly communicated by looks, gestures, dialogue and (in one instance) hand holding. Still that was groundbreaking for that day. It does have the predictable tragic ending...but that was the way it would have to end. It was refreshing to see that their relationship was portrayed as no big deal and no one makes a fuss over it. Very well done.

The acting is just great. It's astonishing to see Slezak so young and handsome and THIN. Christensen was just great too. Gregor isn't that good--but she's not given much to work with. Also this was beautifully directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer. The version I saw also had a very good music score given to in by Kino International in 2004.

A very good, groundbreaking movie. It really deserves a wider audience. I give it an 8 because it IS a little slow at times.

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

Famous painter Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) is in love with friend, muse, and model Michael (Walter Slezak). They live comfortably and happily in their mansion, which is littered with Zoret's pieces with Michael as their inspiration. When the bankrupt Countess Lucia Zamikoff (Nora Gregor) comes to visit to ask Zoret to paint her, Zoret accepts but struggles to put any life into his painting. He can't depict her eyes, but Michael steps in and completes the painting. Sensing his infatuation with her, the Countess seduces Michael, and Zoret witnesses his relationship become more and more distant. Michael steals and sells Zoret's sketches and paintings in order to satisfy the Countess' spending habits, and Zoret eventually falls ill.

Although it's hardly tackled explicitly, and more suggested in looks, exchanges, and title-cards than sexual imagery, Michael's tackling of homosexuality was quite revolutionary in its day. Naturally, it failed financially and critically (although when Dreyer made The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) and became auteur, it has since been re-visited and praised), but it should be a film that any cinephile should see, especially those with an interest in the origins of Queer Cinema and the depiction of homosexuality in film. Benjamin Christensen, perhaps best known as director of the silent docu-horror masterpiece Haxan (1922), is masterful as Zoret, his face darkened with sadness, subtle jealousy, and tragic sentiment. Slazek and Gregor fair less well, and suffer in comparison to Christensen's depiction.

Although the climax is predictable, it has a feeling of inevitably which makes it fittingly moving and quite beautiful, similar in many ways to the ending of Dreyer's Ordet (1955). But the film is surprisingly rich and luscious, with Dreyer's usual blank canvas and bleak settings replaced by detailed sets, all captured by cinematographer's Rudolph Mate and Karl Freund (who appears here as art dealer Le Blanc, and would go on to work on some Universal's finest horror output in the 1930's). A wonderful, 'minor' work in Dreyer's wealthy filmography.

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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.

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).

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.

Now regarded as a landmark of gay cinema, Carl Theodor Dreyer's adaptation of Herman Bang's novel, tells the story of a powerful male artist who must let his young male lover and model, the titular Michael, go when the young man finds someone he actually loves. It's about a manipulative old man dying effectively alone after failing to manipulate his young lover into staying with him. Michael is the work of an artist who has come out of the crucible of his first five feature films as a strong voice in the medium, in full command of the tools of cinema at the time. This is a confident, forceful work by a young Danish filmmaker who was emerging as one of the most important voices of the late silent era.

The master Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) is a painter of great renown, having made a career based on his model, the young and handsome Michael (Walter Slezak). Before Michael, the master was a minor success, but with Michael, the master became a sensation. His house is centered around a magnificent and huge set, ornate with thirty foot high ceilings, art hanging from every wall, and a large stone head missing a nose as the centerpiece when someone enters the room. Dreyer allows the audience to drink in the details of the room early and often since most of the film takes place here, but it never feels confined. Aside from the fact that we do go outside the room for stretches, there's simply so much detail to take in and see, and so many different ways to film the room that he takes advantage of. I'm reminded of the abandoned church in Terry Gilliam's The Zero Theorem that, I felt, was a similarly interesting space that was filmed far less interestingly.

The story turns on the introduction of an impoverished Russian countess, Lucia Zamikow (Nora Gregor), who seeks Zoret's talent to paint her portrait, perhaps in an effort to increase her clout and allow her entrances into society that she's currently denied, her only potential source of income as a former Russian royal in Germany after the Red Revolution back home. After a dinner scene that introduces all of the secondary characters of the film (a critic, a young Duke, a rich older man, and his younger wife), Zoret decides to paint the countess as a challenge. The challenge becomes too much for him, finding himself unable to actually realize her image convincingly. Frustrated, he tasks Michael, who had originally come to Zoret hoping to be taken on as an art student, who quickly (in a small bravura sequence that presages the more extravagant camera moves Dreyer would use in The Passion of Joan of Arc) and convincingly paints her eyes.

So begins the love affair between Zamikow and Michael, which will ultimately break apart the relationship between Michael and Zoret. This is mirrored in a small subplot between the Duke and the young wife of the rich man. Perhaps this was placed in to help highlight the implied sexual aspect of the relationship between Michael and Zoret. There is a shot where the rich man comes to visit Zoret while both Michael and the man's wife are off with their lovers and each asks after the other that makes the implication as clear as day. The two stories go in very different directions, though. The rich man can't take his cuckoldry and shoots the young Duke in a duel, but Zoret doesn't have that option. He can't challenge Zamikow, the impoverished Russian countess, to pistols at dawn. All he can do is watch Michael peel away.

Michael is no saint in this story, though. He racks up huge debts courting the countess, debts that Zoret quietly pays. Michael takes the seminal work that Zoret painted of him, "Victory", and sells it, which Zoret immediately buys back at any price. One might say that since Zoret's wild success is due to Michael's presence as his muse that Michael is due a not insignificant portion of Zoret's financial rewards, a thought that most likely goes through Zoret's mind as he pays for Michael's whims. I can't help but feel that Zoret also knows that his treatment of Michael, as ornate as the lodgings that he provides to his young model in his own home may be, are somewhat akin to a prison. He never fights back to keep Michael, having taken in a young, impressionable man and molded him into what he wanted, like a piece of art. And yet, Michael breaks out.

How much is from Michael, and how much is from the countess possibly manipulating this young man herself? That's never really addressed explicitly, but the potential mirror of Michael going from one manipulator to another is too rich to not be in the subtext. Michael's late actions make it hard to ignore, but the film is largely from Zoret's point of view.

Through all of this is the critic, Charles Switt (Robert Garrison). Most likely the master's lover before Michael whom Zoret cast aside in favor of the young man, Switt writes about Zoret and ends up being the only man other than his servants at Zoret's side on his deathbed. Having made his final masterpiece, a large painting of an old man dying by the sea, "a man who has lost everything" one observer notes, Zoret sees that he's lost the only thing that matters to him when Michael does not show up at the unveiling. It gets worse when Michael steals the sketches Zoret had made in Algeria that became the basis for the background of the painting, sketches that would have fetched tens of thousands of dollars.

There's a quiet and subtle sadness that permeates the film, especially in its final moments. The contextualization of Michael and Zoret's relationship against the rich man and his wife is intelligently integrated into the story, providing a contrast that illuminates the central tale. The acting, which in the body of Dreyer's work had been moving towards more consciously naturalistic, embraces the subtle nature of facial expression to tell a story rather than grand, sweeping body motions. The tale is told through faces, most notably through Christensen's (who was a noted director himself, having made Haxan: Witchcraft through the Ages a few years before) who is saddled with most of the emotional work as he watches his personal life fall apart around him, unable to do anything about it.

I find that people are too quick to label older dramas as melodramas, and I've seen that with Michael. In my mind, a melodrama is about huge emotions played large, but that doesn't fit this film at all. These are large emotions played small. And this is Dreyer bringing a complex emotional story to screen with extreme alacrity and skill. This is his best film up to this point, and his first great one.

One of the major significances of Carl Theodor Dreyer's "Michael" is that it is one of the earliest movies that focus on homosexuality (although some earlier movies also did). Elderly painter Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) becomes infatuated with his subject Michael (Walter Slezak), while amoral princess Lucia Zamikov* (Nora Gregor) enters both their lives.

Despite the look at the relationship between the artist and his subject, I actually found most of the movie to be kind of tedious. It sort of came across as a look at bored rich people. Maybe that's just my interpretation. The main focus is good, but the rest simply lost me. Still, the movie is worth seeing as an important part of film history, and in particular as part of LGBT-themed cinema.

*That's how it should be spelled.

PS: Benjamin Christensen had previously directed and starred in the witch-themed "Häxan", and Walter Slezak later played the Clock King on the 1960s "Batman".

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.

Mikaël / Michael (1924) : Brief Review -

95 Years Before the French Classic Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Carl Theodor Dreyer's gutsy German silent classic on the conflict between homosexuality and bisexuality. Watching a French classic like Portrait of a Lady on Fire in 2019 left me stunned with its uncut version of storytelling. A lesbian romance through the lens of art. And then today I bumped into Carl Theodor Dreyer's gutsy silent drama, Michael, which painted this mixed portrait almost 95 years ago. I am not sure what word or adjective I should use for this film if I have already used 'stunned' for Céline Sciamma's French drama. Speechless.. yes, I think that's the word. Michael is a rare mix of pathbreaking cinema and taboo-breaking cinema, working in the same factory. Dreyer's silent film was way ahead of its time, and it still feels that way today. It is rightly regarded as a watershed moment in "gay" silent cinema. I'm not saying that it's just about homosexuality and bisexuality, but the way it sees that intricate romance through the lenses of art, i.e., painting, is what I loved the most. I liked Portrait of a Lady on Fire for the same reason. Based on Herman Bang's novel, Michael is a love triangle between a painter, Zoret, his young male model, Michael, and an unscrupulous princess, Zamikow, who takes away Michael. There is another love triangle involved, but let's keep it a secret here. Michael is content-driven and high-concept cinema as it tackles taboo issues like gender attraction, love, and money. While doing so, it does not forget to use the artistic values of a primary art medium, painting. Carl Theodor Dreyer pulls the best out of his actors while he himself gives out everything he has as a director. Dreyer's film sets benchmarks for the early stages of pathbreaking cinema when society was not ready to accept such things. A must-see for content lovers.

RATING - 8/10*

By - #samthebestest.

This is an early film on a homosexual theme: older painter, and younger, prettier model and developing artist. This happens to have been the preferred arrangement in the ancient world as well.

(I will note at this moment that this aspect of the film did not hold a great deal of personal interest for me; my eye was drawn more to the heaving bosom of one of the noblewomen.)

The theme is handled quite discreetly. Could contemporary audiences have missed it entirely? But the film would have had no point then. This presumed relationship is conveyed mostly through glances and tone, plus one more explicit statement at the end.

Since the model is also the painter's adopted son, much of the drama takes the form of parent vs. petulant, ungrateful offspring -- more traditional subject matter in other words. The son takes up with a pretty princess, disappointing his father.

Some of the character definition is unusual. The father smokes a pipe with a very long stem, like Bilbo Baggins or some other hobbit. An artist's affectation? The son has a sensitive side; he's a big fan of Charlie Chaplin and Jackie Coogan in "The Kid" (1921). Blatant movie references are very common now, but it's really strange to see one in 1924.

I referred to the Graeco-Roman world earlier. If there are any classical analogies at work here, then this is a Jupiter-Ganymede story where Ganymede runs off with one of Io, Europa, or Callisto. Officially Ganymede was Jupiter's cupbearer, and this film has a recurrent leitmotif involving a set of English glasses. Coincidence? But I think I am seeing subtext when there really isn't any. Perhaps there were mythological strands running through the original novel.

I personally found this scenario to be fairly overwrought and uninvolving. However there is a very fine performance by Benjamin Christensen as the painter, plus simply stand-out photography and set decoration. These upper-class rooms are even more finely appointed than the ones in "Mockery", directed by Christensen in 1927, and that was an MGM production. Overall credit is due to director Carl Dreyer for the film's virtues.

The print which was shown at Cinematheque Ontario is part of a touring Christensen retrospective which had played in September at MOMA in New York. The booklet produced for the New York screenings is a very good one, "Benjamin Christensen: An International Dane" edited by Jytte Jensen.

The film itself was actually entitled "Michael" and had intertitles in German. The original novelist I'm sure was billed as Hermann Bong [sic], rather than Herman Bang, while the young lovers were called (Eugene) Michael and Princess Zamikow rather than Mikaël and Zamikoff.

This is a German silent film. Obviously it would take Hollywood at least half a century longer to get anywhere near this subject in such a natural manner, and in many ways, still to this day it has not produced anything to compare to this sensitive portrayal about an aging master painter (Benjamin Christensen) who takes a male model/hustler and aspiring painter (Walter Slezak) under his protection. Soon however, their relationship begins to change when both men encounter the gorgeous Princess Zamikoff (Nora Gregor) who is supposed to be ruined but happens to be on her way to the opera when she makes a visit to commission her portrait and comes back later dressed to kill, with an outfit that must have cost a fortune and that we must assume she did not pay for herself.

This clearly indicates that the Princess is a professional gold-digger-hustler, and though not a courtesan, certainly someone in the related business of living by her charms, with enough savoir-faire to be part of the trade. This is an important character trait of the woman in the triangle, because it makes perfect sense within the context of co-dependent sex relationships: She is hustling Michael as much as Michael hustles the painter and that is the actual mechanism of the relationship.

This is an excellent Dreyer film, not quite popular or well know here for the subject matter being an early example of a homosexual relationship. Most importantly, both of the men involved are portrayed as virile and masculine, there is no cross dressing, hilarity of character or the usual histrionics that was the sole, monolithic identity of gay men in an American cultural context until the arrival of "Brokeback Mountain". Some viewers may be in such denial as to the existence of a gay life for "straight-looking" men that they may debate that the film is not about homosexuality, as one of the men gets involved in a heterosexual relationship, and I completely disagree with this stance, as most gay men are actually like the ones in this movie and not like the more flamboyant part of the group that naturally steal the limelight and distort the statistical truth.

The complexities and variety of homosexual experience either in gay men or women have always posed a challenge on the imagination and intelligence of society, but we can not deny that there was much more than simple friendship between these two men, if only because there had to be a valid reason for Michael to accept money gifts and also steal as much from the painter. However, because there were an infinite amount of choices by means of which this could have been clarified, and certainly there are earlier movies that showed it was done in Germany ("Different from the Others" for example, 1919) I see this important detail as an error in character development and that's why I have given it an 8 ranking.

The cinematography by Rudolph Mate and Karl Freund is exquisitely handled. All details of decor, furnishing and costume are lavish and within the cultural context of the period. We see the subtle transitioning from Art Nouveau to early Deco in the differences between the older painter's home and the younger hustler's apartment.

The character of the suffering, self-sacrificing older lover in a relationship is a very 19th Century attitude and romantic posturing that reached a climax with Dumas famous "Dame aux Camelias" that became the "Camille" of the stage and movie adaptations as well as Verdi's "Traviata" in opera. Christensen's devoted love for Michael, even when he discovers his thievery and baseness is part of that socio-cultural heritage, the extreme of which had been Oscar Wilde in the generation before the one in this movie, which went one step further in the 'sacrifice' to self destruction. Within this context the painter's plight is totally believable and acceptable, but aside from the artistic beauty of the film itself, the important message that comes through is the validity and truth of that love.

Of the Carl Theodor Dreyer motion pictures that I have recently seen, the more mature and the one that shows a better knowledge of the film medium, is "Michael" a production financed and shot in Germany, after he made "Love One Another". The obvious mistakes are more related to editing than to "mise en caméra", and even that is not abundant. Dreyer stylishly uses space, light, and the depth and height of the decors, abstaining from the Expressionist frenzy that characterized a good part of German cinema after "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1920). Based on the novel "Mikaël", by Herman Bang, this is one of the most impressive studies of narcissism among the films that I have seen, and one of the most moving dramas on homosexuality in old age that I know. I find admirable is that a film from 1924 shows an understanding of human nature similar to a drama as "Happy Together", rather than recent bursts of sweat and semen that have pretended to explain narcissistic delight and homosexual love in epidermic, explicit ways. We should also remember that this is a motion picture from 1924 if it may illustrate ideas that today may seem as prejudice, or whenever we react negatively to the resources of 1920s cinema, in make-up, costumes, acting style, or technical shortcomings yet to be perfected to erase the efforts to convey an impression of reality. Less problematic, I believe, are the direction and especially the writing. Behind the adaptation there is a key name in the history of cinema: Fritz Lang's ex-wife, Thea Von Harbou, who remained in Germany when her husband fled from the Nazis. By 1924 Harbou and Lang had already collaborated in "The Weary Death" and the first two parts of "Dr. Mabuse", and next would come "Spies", "Die Nibelungen", "Metropolis", "Woman in the Moon", "M", "The Testament of Dr. Mabuse" and the diptych "The Tiger of Eschnapur" and "The Indian Tomb". Harbou excelled in adventures, science-fiction and exotic melodramas (genres almost absent in Lang's American filmography), but here she is more than adequate describing a homosexual liaison tinted with economic interest, loneliness and a narcissistic game of mirrors, in the story of a painter and the young male model to whom he gives all his possessions, which are then spent by the boy in an affair with a ruined and unscrupulous princess. The theme of Death is present throughout the tale, and it is duplicated in the story of an affair between a count and a young woman, married to an old man. Besides Von Harbou, "Michael" includes first-rate personnel in other roles: the cinematographer is Expressionist maestro Karl Freund (director of photography of "The Last Man", "Metropolis", "Berlin, Symphony of a Great City" and Tod Browning's "Dracula"), who also plays a art dealer; the painter is played by Danish director Benjamin Christensen (the maker of "The Witch"), and the Italian operatic diva Nora Gregor (leading lady in Renoir's "The Rule of the Game") plays the princess. For the role of Michael, Dreyer used beautiful blond actor Walter Slezak, born under the sign of Taurus, and --as a good son of the bull-- too much attracted to good food and wine. When he reached 30 he had already lost his slenderness and in spite of his big, expressive blue eyes, for the industry he was too a chubby fellow to be a leading man. However, when he migrated to the United States he became an instant sensation in Broadway, winning a Tony award. In films he had a more discrete participation, but he also had other unforgettable roles, as the Nazi sailor in Alfred Hichcock's propaganda drama "Lifeboat", and as Rock Hudson's feisty majordomo in "Come September", turning his boss' Italian villa into a hotel during his absence, except every September. A good work of restoration, "Michael" includes a dense 1993 score by Pierre Oser.

Master painter Benjamin Christensen (as Claude Zoret) doesn't like the sketches offered for review by budding artist Walter Slezak (as Michael); instead, he asks the attractive young man to become his model. Mr. Christensen takes a liking to Mr. Slezak; and, soon, they are like father and son. Then, an alluring woman arrives to request Christensen paint her portrait. Young Slezak is attracted to his benefactor's feminine model, Nora Gregor (as Countess Zamikoff); and, the young models begin an affair. Christensen becomes despondent over the loss of his ward's attentions. While carrying on with Ms. Gregor, Slezak takes increasing advantage of Christensen's generosity. Will the old painter cut him off?

The homosexuality currently heralded to be found in Carl Theodor Dreyer' "Michael" is so subtle it's almost invisible. The Christensen-Slezak couplings must have occurred during their time in Algiers, which is over when the film begins. An even earlier affair, between Christensen and Robert Garrison (as Charles Switt), is a little clearer. It's nice to see cinematographer Karl Freund (as M. Leblanc), the art dealer who informs Christensen that Slezak is endeavoring to sell "The Victor", a painting which symbolizes their once close relationship. "Michael" requires more concentration than your average silent; to help, the overall production is excellent.

******** Michael (1924) Carl Theodor Dreyer ~ Benjamin Christensen, Walter Slezak, Nora Gregor

If you are at all curios about how such "hush-hush" subject matter, as bisexuality, was handled (in cinema) 94 years ago - Then, yes - "Michael" just may be the very film for you to see.

As far as my knowledge of film history goes - I don't believe that any other mainstream picture back then had ever dared to tackle this sexual subject as openly as this one did.

But, keep this in mind - "Michael" was a bisexual story that had definitely been given the "pretty-boy" treatment. So, that means there was certainly no flaming flamboyancy or any "camping-it-up" happening in this decidedly self-conscious production, whatsoever.

Directed by Danish filmmaker, Carl Dreyer - (From my perspective) - "Michael" was too much of a "love-triangle" soap opera for the most part.

And, on top of that - This film clearly did not come at all close to matching the cinematically innovative intensity that was soon to follow (4 years later) with Dreyer's crowning achievement, "The Passion of Joan of Arc".

Of the times when the Gayness was not too forgivable offence, unlike the novel, the movie keeps it as an hint, on screen it tries to keep a more 'decent' platonic relationship. Had it been with 'proper' gender, it could well have been a psychological melodrama, with a touch of say 'La Chamade' An aged maestro- while looking at a young artists's sketches - finds the artist more interesting than the sketches, and takes him in - as an 'adopted son' - with gender reversal/ modern age, it could have been a mistress. There is another one in the scene - to complete the triangle - the journalist/biographer/ Dr Watson to Holmes - Charles Switt. Naturally there is a green hue around the two - Mikael and Charles. Mikael, being young, has his affinity towards his age (at least here it was girls), and, with finances at his disposal, thanks to the successful and hence affluent Master, makes hay. In the still idyllic family - lands the fourth angle in form of an impoverised Russian princess, who - though in novel seduces Mikael, but here it looked to be mutual - and to maintain her life style - Mikael first borrows and later steals. Not very improbable story, with some gender changes - say make Charles and Mikael of one gender, and Zoret and princess of other - it would be a common melodrama. The skill here - and that needed some skill - was to maintain the genders - suppress the homosexual angle - st least direct reference - and still be able to tell the story. And CTD managed to do that. At 1924 level, this is an exceptional story telling, and is able to catch imagination even now. .

"The drawing-room coziness is disrupted when an impecunious Russian countess Lucia Zamikow (Gregor) blows in and solicits Zoret to make a portrait of her. At first, we may expect Zoret to get chummy with her and his fair-haired Michael may get stiffed, but the shoe is actually on the other boot when it turns out to be Michael who tops off Lucia's portrait with a flourish. Spellbound by Lucia's flirtatious eyes, Michael is smitten with her and consequently, he and Zoret grow apart."

read my full review on my blog: Cinema Omnivore, thanks.

Michael (1924)

*** (out of 4)

German silent about an aging master painter (Benjamin Christensen) who takes a male model and wannabe painter (Walter Slezak) under his wings but soon their relationship begins to crumble when both men meet the Princess Zamikoff (Nora Gregor). This here was one of the director's lesser seen films but over the past decade or so it has become quite popular for being an early example of a homosexual relationship. Some could debate that the film isn't about homosexuality and I somewhat agree with his stance but I also see why some might think there was more to the two men's relationship. Either way, over the years I really haven't been too much of a fan of Dreyer's and I found this film much like the rest of his work. The biggest problem I had with this film as well as others from the director is that I never really get caught up in the stories. The stories always take second billing to the wonderful visual style and cinematography, which some might love but I'd also like to have a better story mixed in. Even with that said the movie is still worth watching due to the cinematography by Rudolph Mate and Karl Freund. Freund handled all the interior shots and these are the most impressive of the film. The sets are very beautiful and the film follows that German Expressionist mood perfectly. Christensen, director of the masterpiece Haxan, delivers a very strong performance and this is easy to spot towards the end of the film. I won't ruin the ending but Christensen's performance perfectly nails every moment. Slezak is also very good but I didn't care too much for Gregor.