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.

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.

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.

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.