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

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.

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.

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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