La vedova del pastore

The Parson's Widow is not entirely a really great silent film; it loses some of its strengths as a satire on marriage and (partially) religion when it starts to get a little sentimental towards the end. But for a while, one sees a film by the master Danish filmmaker Carl Th. Dreyer flexing his directorial muscles on something that is something one might not expect from seeing such pieces of perfect tragedy like Joan of Arc or Day of Wrath. Here we get the story of Sofren (Einar Rod), an unconventional would-be Parson who 'auditions' for the position by going on about the devil in an off-beat manner (yes, off-beat). He learns that in order to become the village Parson, he needs to marry the presumed local old witch, Miss Pedersdotter (grim-faced Hildur Carlberg), who lures him in with a piece of cursed cod and has him succumb to marry her - but he really wants Mari (Almroth), and cannot until she dies. But when?

There's some splendid comic set-pieces set in here, like with Sofren trying to scare the old Miss in a devil-disguised sheet, only to be foiled by his own slippers, or when Sofren tries to sneak out at night to see Mari and continually gets caught (or, in one case, another old woman in the bed!) But what's more amazing here is Dreyer's choices in casting. Rod is perfect for this kind of frustrated, ambitious but conniving sort, with great and imaginative eyes that do a lot while seeming to do little (one compared this as Dreyer doing Day of Wrath as a Chaplin, but I don't see much of Chaplin in his main male lead), and Carlberg is so dead-on for this old widow who may or may die (depending on if a life-lengthening potion works) that it's among some of Dreyer's best actors in one of his movies.

While Dreyer sometimes loses his footing in the story, as mentioned towards the end, he makes up for it with some curious scenes, like the dance at the wedding, or the specific use of colored tints. When Sofron has the weird dream state of seeing a 'young' Miss Pedersdotter, we see it in a haze of light red (or maybe blue), and it's completely dazzling for a moment. It might be a slightly lighter affair than his more 'serious' pictures, but for the curious digging into Dreyer's catalog, it's not at all a disappointment. At its best Parson's Widow has a good, hard farcical grip on the subject matter.

I haven't seen Carl Theodor Dreyer's directorial début, "The President" (Præsidenten), yet. I've seen "Leaves from Satan's Book" (Blade af Satans Bog), however, and it was totally unimpressive. Dreyer took from Griffith's "Intolerance", but didn't even manage a simulacrum of the American director's craft. "The Parson's Widow" is a much better beginning for Denmark's great filmmaker. It is the work of a director coming into his own, even though it's much different in some ways from the rest of his oeuvre.

As with "Leaves from Satan's Book" and his later films, there's the preoccupation with history and religion. But, as others agree, this is Dreyer light. The story of a man who must marry a hag to become a village's parson, and his plots to marry his young fiancée and keep the job despite it is amusing. I thought the devil costume bit was particularly humorous. Dreyer's direction is what makes this worthwhile, though. The quick pace, not lingering on shots and improved camera positioning compared to "Leaves from Satan's Book" make this film more accessible and entertaining.

Dreyer again uses masking and fades extensively, but this time it adds to the style. He gets the most out of the actors. (It shouldn't be underestimated how quicker shot succession can improve, or detract from, otherwise unremarkable acting.) Additionally, the introduction to the past through the waterfall was an especially nice touch. The confining location sets, and more importantly, how Dreyer and cinematographer George Schnéevoigt film them also add greatly to this tightly told film. The small church full of dividers is just a great find, and they use the spaces of the home of the parson's wife very well, with camera placement and continuity editing.

Sofren and Mari, are two youngsters who wander into a typically idyllic Norwegian village. The village is searching desperately for a new parson and Sofren has studied hard for the ministry. He has been encouraged in this by his sweetheart Mari because her father will not allow her to marry Sofren until he becomes a real parson. There are two other applicants for the job of village parson but after a hard competition and delivering a splendid sermon, Sofren wins that Gott job. But there is a catch: according to parish law, Sofren must wed the late parson's widow, Dame Margarete; that's a terrible dilemma for Sofren since he cannot get Mari if he doesn't get the post and he will not get that unless he weds the old woman…

"Prästänkan" ( The Parson's Widow , 1920 ) is an excellent and wonderful work in spite of the fact that it is only Herr Carl Theodor Dreyer's second film as a director but perhaps this is not a strange thing at all if we have in mind Herr Dreyer's great debut, "Praesidenten" (1919), reviewed by this German count in this modern diary sometime and liked by this Herr Von very much according to his aristocratic standards, natürlich!.

Everything is remarkable in "Prästänkan" ( astonishing art direction, again not unusual in Herr Dreyer's early works, in which every minor detail is matched carefully with wonderful outdoor scenery and technical effects that enrich superbly the film story ), but the most remarkable aspect of the film for this German count is Herr Dreyer's skill in filming a story with a religious subject but resisting the temptation to be sacrilegious or irreverent, the most obvious and easy ways for many directors to depict such a delicate subject. On the contrary, Herr Dreyer is very respectful of the religious theme of the story but includes also an intelligent sense of humour, Nordic humour natürlich!. The funny scenes fit perfectly in a story in which impatient and inexpert youngsters vie with a wise and crafty woman, and where all will learn their own lessons until finally common sense prevails.

And that's a great Herr Dreyer film goal; to make a "local" story with its Northern customs into a universal film, overriding country barriers. That only happens when the author is a very skillful man, natürlich!.

By the way, even though this German count speaks elegant languages such as Latin and ancient Greek, the first time that "Prästänkan" was shown in the Schloss theatre, the nitrate had Swedish intertitles only, a dead language for this Herr Von. For that reason it is necessary to praise Herr David Shepard ( a singular longhaired youngster who cares about silent films ) for his superb English edition of this film so that illiterate youngsters around the world may also enjoy it.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must attend a dinner in which will be served parson's noses.

Hildur Carlberg, the skilled septuagenarian actress who plays Dame Margarete, died in August, 1920, two months before this film opened-- a heartbreaking irony, in part because the plot involves her youthful husband marrying her only to await her death.

The film has marvelous comic moments, capitalizing on the fact that medieval European peasants suffered from backbreaking work, a total absence of education, and a desperate need for dentists. The scene when a couple of clerics (the losers) compete for the job of parson by delivering sermons in which they inadvertently skewer their own backwardness is priceless, especially as they are speaking to a congregation of bedraggled and toothless locals who were mostly in church to nap. And the scene where an old lady hocks something out of her nose before returning to her needlepoint-- fabulous.

Dreyer, a committed naturalist who didn't even approve of make-up on his performers, shot this film on location at Maihaugen, Norway, in an open-air museum of 200 medieval buildings. Even the interiors are authentic. Every frame shows it. Watch particularly for a folk wall hanging in Dame Margarete's home. This is another silent gem from the director of The Passion of Joan of Arc.

Prästänkan (literal translation of title: The Parson's Widow).

The Parson's Widow is significant for two reasons– It is one of the very few national romantic films, and it's one of the very first films to make extensive use of locations.

National romanticism was a 19th century movement that glorified pure hearted, independent farmers (as opposed to the aristocrats) and looked to the hinterlands as a source of pure culture and moral inspiration. It was particularly influential in Norway, the film's location.

As The Parson's Widow begins, Søfren, a divinity student, is offered a position in a rural parish¬– provided he marries the parson's elderly widow. He accepts, despite his betrothal to Mari, whom he passes off as his sister. This theme could exist only in a land where poverty and hunger were facts of life.

Modern audiences may find The Parson's Widow overly moralistic and sentimental. It has a 19th century feel– owing more to romantics like Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson than to more modern novelists like Knut Hamsun, who won the Nobel prize for literature in 1920, the year the film was made. At that point, national romanticism was on its way out.

The story has a few supernatural overtones, but this is no horror film. In The Parson's Widow, the fantastic elements originate from folk beliefs and function primarily as cultural references.

Set in an indefinite past, The Parson's Widow makes extensive use of locations at a time when few filmmakers ventured beyond studio doors. It idealizes rural life in a way that anticipates Robert Flaherty's Man of Aran. And, like Flaherty's film, The Parson's Widow meticulously recreates practices that were rapidly disappearing.

The opening scenes were shot at Garmo stavkirke (stave church) in Maihaugen– the open air museum in Lillehammer, Norway. The farmstead scenes are probably shot at the same place, and the older extras would have been the last generation to learn the crafts they demonstrate as part of daily life.

People today will view The Parson's Widow primarily because it is an early film of director Carl Theodore Dreyer. But this is no beginner's work. Beautiful composition, expressive lighting, and obsessive attention to detail are signature marks of the director who gave us The Passion of Joan of Arc and Vampyr. The Parson's Widow stands as a minor masterpiece in its own right, but the romanticism is unlikely to resonate with today's audiences.