Le due orfanelle

The story is often exciting and often moving, yet the chance to see Lillian and Dorothy Gish together might be the best reason of all to watch Griffith's silent classic, "Orphans of the Storm". The story combines the tumultuous backdrop of the French Revolution with a worthwhile melodrama involving the ordeals of two sisters who are practically alone in the world.

The French Revolution used to be a frequent setting for some fine films - between the ideas involved and the upheavals that it brought, it's almost ready-made for cinema. Here, as the two sisters, Lillian and Dorothy are struggling to help each other when they are caught up in the turmoil around them, and they find themselves involved with everyone from the lowest classes of society up to some of the best-known personalities of the Revolution.

The historical background is often stylized, and it is mainly there to lend drama to the story about the sisters, rather than to provide an accurate look at history. The characterizations of some of the revolutionary leaders are interesting, but they are not always accurate. Yet from a purely dramatic viewpoint it works well. The involved story, along with the personal appeal of Gish sisters, combine to win the audience's sympathy quickly, and to heighten the tension as the story plays out. It's a well-acted and memorable melodrama.

D.W. Griffith loved epic stories full of dangerous situations and damsels in distress. With the beautiful and talented Gish sisters, he got two damsels for the price of one. "Orphans of the Storm" is probably the most beautiful of all Griffith features. The lavish detailing of the sets is much better than "Intolerance" or "Broken Blossoms" and the costumes are magnificent. By this time in Griffith's career, his direction was already beginning to become stale and his plots too old-fashioned, but somehow he makes "Orphans" work to his advantage.

Lillian Gish is Henriette Girard and her sister Dorothy plays her "Sister" Louise. The amazing Joseph Schildkraut plays de Vaudrey, a nobleman who truly is noble. The "storm" in the title refers to the French Revolution, which is the background this story of family and romantic love plays itself upon.

As usual, Lillian Gish is wonderful in her role as the devoted sister Henriette; but it is Dorothy Gish as blind sister Louise who is truly the star of the film. Her performance drips with the pathos, pain, and longing that most people associate with her older sister. Schildkraut shines in this, his first Hollywood film role.

The frequent ridiculous scenes (Danton running to save Henriette from the executioner's blade?) and length of the film will turn most modern viewers off; but those who have a love of history, epic spectacle, and the timeless beauty of the Gish sisters will enjoy "Orphans of the Storm".

First of all, I find it desperately necessary to remind the viewer of silent movies of the danger of analyzing these pieces under the lens of the modern cinemagoer. The aesthetic values of silent cinema are incommensurable with the values of modern cinema. Aside from the obvious difference that one relies purely on image while the other has the benefit of sound, we must also not forget that the cinema of the silent era is cinema in its infancy, in a constant state of the most early self-discovery (which is not to say that cinema has necessarily "grown up" or "progressed" into our modern era; our cinema today is only different than the cinema of the silent era, neither better nor worse.) Basically, we should check ourselves before we ridicule these films on the basis of irising, masking, et cetera and ESPECIALLY the exaggerated emotion and overblown gesturing of the actors. The conventions of the art of acting have, of course, their basis in that of the theatre, which preceded film, and where emphatic gesturing and stressed emotion was conventional in conveying story even to those seated in the back row.

All editorializing aside, Griffith's _Orphans of the Storm_ is a shining example of the director's masterful grasp of narrative cinema. The story is almost Dickensian in its feel, from its very beginning alternating between no less than five separate subplots, all of which become inextricably intertwined before the backdrop of the larger plot of the impending revolution in France. The acting performances are not, in fact, excessively overplayed, but are actually quite subtle and touching, especially those of the two orphans, the Gish sisters.

The visuals are stunning: the costumes and decor are lush and the recreation of late 18th century Paris is excellent. Most impressive to me is Griffith's expert command of montage, primarily through intercutting, in creating a engrossing story that, while complex in structure, is easily grasped. The film starts out on wobbly legs, but soon breaks into a steady gallop, raging through the glorious revolution to an admittedly predictable, yet satisfying conclusion. A grand achievement for one of the titans of early cinema: I give it a 9/10.

"Orphans of the Storm" (United Artists, 1921), directed by D.W. Griffith, is a grand scale silent melodrama, by 1920s standards anyway, with the central characters being two young sisters (Lillian and Dorothy Gish) in a story that is divided into two parts. The first half, set prior to the French Revolution, is taken from the old play, "The Two Orphans" by Adolphe Dennery. The second half, lifted from Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities," takes place during the French Revolution, given the added excitement to a suspenseful climax in the Griffith tradition.

Part I of the story opens with the killing of a commoner. The slain man's wife is revealed to be the daughter of an aristocratic family who feel she was injudiciously married. They decide to take the infant child from her and leave it on the steps of Notre Dame Cathedral in the dead of winter where she might get picked up and adopted by some kind-hearted soul, with a note attached that reads, "Her name is Louise. Save Her." Later, as the snow continues to fall, a poverty-stricken father named Jean Girard, arrives to leave his own baby, Henriette, to the cathedral steps. After noticing the shivering infant Louise, Girard realizes that he cannot bring himself to do the same for his own child, so he decides to bring home both babies. After returning home to his wife with the babies, Girard encounters a purse full of money left with Louise. With this money, the Girard's rise above their poverty-stricken background and raise the two girls happily in a northern providence. Years pass. A plague comes, killing both parents, and blinding Louise (Dorothy Gish). Henriette (Lillian Gish), her sister and guide, accompanies her blind sister to Paris in the hope of locating a famous doctor who may be able to restore her sight. On their way, they attract the attention of Marquis de Praille (Morgan Wallace), a nobleman, who becomes so interested in Henriette that he arranges to have her kidnapped upon the arrival in Paris and brought to a lavish party given that night at his great estate, thus, leaving the blind Louise to roam the streets of Paris alone, until she is taken in by Pierre (Frank Puglia). But as fate would have it, Pierre has an old hag of a mother, Frochard (Lucille LaVerne), who decides to use the blind girl by having her sing and beg in the streets for money. At first Louise refuses, but after being left alone in a room surrounded by rats, she agrees to do her bidding. As for Henriette, she escapes the estate of De Praille with the aide of Chevalier de Vaudrey (Josef Schildkraut), an aristocrat who not only pities her, but agrees to help her search for Louise. During the search, Henriette falls in love with Chevalier, who, in turn, happens to be the nephew of Louise's birth mother (Catherine Emmett), still mourning for the loss of her child of long ago, now the wife of the famous count, who is unaware of his wife's secret past. PART II of the story continues to focus on Henriette's search for Louise and her encounter with Chevalier. After learning of Louise's whereabouts and being victim of the evil Mother Frochard, she locates the old hag who tells her that her sister has "died." But as Henriette gets closer to learning the truth and finding Louise, something always intervenes to prevent their reunion, especially the riot and outbreak of the French Revolution, having the aristocrats arrested, sentenced and executed by the one and only guillotine, with the innocent Henriette taken in to become one of those tortured victims.

"Orphans of the Storm" ranks one of the best of the DW Griffith silents, and one that should still hold interest throughout, particularly its story that plays liked a chaptered serial. Of all the supporting players, which range from Monte Blue, Sheldon Lewis, Creighton Hale, Louis Wolheim and Kate Bruce, Lucille LaVerne as the mean old hag named Mother Frochard, old clothes, uncombed hair and some missing front teeth, is the most memorable because of her natural meanness. One scene comes to mind is the one when, after forcing the blind Louise to beg on the streets as the snow falls around her, Mother Frochard decides to take the shawl away from her, feeling that the more she shivers, the more money she will collect. LaVerne would play a similar character in appearance in the 1935 MGM version of "A Tale of Two Cities" starring Ronald Colman. LaVerne leaves a lasting legacy playing old hags, especially during French Revolutionary times. Another memorable performance given in this production is by Leslie King (who sometimes resembles Boris Karloff), playing a character named Jacques Forget-Not, an unforgiving sort who avenges those aristocrats who tortured his poor father by sending them to their execution.

In spite of some flaws, and there are several, particularly a couple of unrelated scenes and unnecessary added comedy relief that distract from a viewer's attention, whose main focal point is on the two orphans, there are memorable scenes along with lavish background scenery and costumes that are an added bonus in capturing the flavor of 18th century Paris.

"Orphans of the Storm" was one of 13 silent features shown on public television's 1971 presentation of THE SILENT YEARS, as hosted by Orson Welles, with an original and excellent piano score accompanied by William Perry, the print that was formerly used in the BLACKHAWK VIDEO collection back in the 1980s, and the one formerly shown on Turner Classic Movie's SILENT Sunday NIGHTS before a new copy, available by KINO video, accompanied by a new (and very unsatisfying)chamber music score, clearer picture quality and a longer 150 minutes length. In spite of which version to see, "Orphans of the Storm" still ranks one of the best silents produced by the Griffith company shortly before the great director's decline. (****)

DW Griffith's fall from grace during the 1920s wasn't just because his technique began to look old fashioned. It was that his stories got worse. His narrative structures were inspired by great works of literature, particularly that of Charles Dickens, but his plots were often sourced from obscure novels or trashy stage melodramas. These stories were often implausible and simplistic, shortcomings he could only make up for with his sensitive cinematic technique and the reliability of his actors.

Orphans of the Storm is rather lazily-written, full of one-dimensional characters, predictable situations, and sudden coincidences leaping over gaps in the plot, as two sisters, one of them blind, lose each other, find each other, then lose each other again amid the chaos of the French Revolution. However, it's (just about) possible to overlook a bad story so long as it's well told. Unfortunately, Griffith appears to be following the trend of having more and longer title cards, explaining every point and feeding us superficial lines of dialogue, where the action alone should tell us what is going on. In some scenes, such as those where Dorothy Gish's blindness is brought up, we get the worst of both worlds, having not only the point-labouring title cards, but also exaggerated pantomiming, with characters pointing emphatically at both eyes.

Griffith should have known that all his best moments were wordless and understated. Thankfully, he has not forgotten how to direct a good love scene, and those between Joseph Schildkraut and Lillian Gish are particularly effective, framed plainly in a series of close-ups, barely moving their faces but conveying a world of emotion. This was Schildkraut's first American picture, and he is one of the most pleasingly natural and convincing lead men Griffith had worked with thus far. With his fine, sharp features he was also appropriately handsome, although a few films later he would play Judas in King of Kings, and subsequently became a bit typecast. As for Gish, she is far more satisfying here in one of her serene and sensible roles, as opposed to the hysterical girly parts she was increasingly given. The other standout in this cast is Monte Blue as Danton, whipping a crowd into a frenzy without once resorting to hamminess.

It was a long-established rule that every major Griffith picture had to feature a battle somewhere in the middle, and end with a climactic ride-to-the-rescue. By 1921 these action sequences were becoming a trifle uninspired. The battle between revolutionaries and soldiers has a great build-up, but then resorts to bland god-shots, making the moment suddenly seem very cold. The finale is one of Griffith's least engaging, I think because while the ride itself is excitingly shot and edited, the business at the guillotine is just a lot of faffing around, a far cry from Bobby Haron's haunting walk to the scaffold in Intolerance.

In spite of all this, Orphans of the Storm – like every Griffith feature I have seen – does have its absolutely divine moments. There's a very dynamic sense of rhythm to the scene at the ball and the later celebration of the victorious revolutionaries. The reunion of Schildkraut and Lillian Gish is both powerful and sensitive. Griffith may have been beginning to slip, but at least he was failing beautifully.