Consciência Vingadora

Though not all are equal, by and large it's gratifying just to watch a surviving silent film, for there are far too many that have been lost over the years. Some have weathered time better than others, whether in terms of expression of values that are no longer acceptable or just with regards to the physical condition of prints preceding preservation and restoration. While filmmaker D. W. Griffith is equally legendary for his most lauded contributions to cinema and notorious for his most vilified contributions, thankfully 'The avenging conscience' is a title that holds up pretty well all around. I wouldn't call it perfect; even for devotees of the silent era I think there are aspects to the construction here that leave something to be desired, and it's not likely to change the minds of those modern viewers who have a hard time engaging with older movies. It remains deserving on its own merits, however, and is worth revisiting - and in fact, truthfully, it's even better than I had supposed it would be when I first sat down to watch.

The picture makes no bones about taking inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe, and even within the length itself it makes note of just that. As such one will have certain expectations about the course of the story, and as if the name weren't indication enough, there is definitely an element of the macabre herein. One might well observe, though, that this comes around only in the second half of the runtime, and the first half is a straightforward melodrama that could have easily been teased out into a conventional romantic drama of the period. Here is where lies a couple faults of the feature, for the pacing in all such scenes is surely a little sluggish: progressing piecemeal from beat to beat, pausing to tread water, and heavily drawing out and emphasizing each. Moreover, in the early stretch the sequencing seems a tad disjointed as we're introduced to all the characters who will play a part in the tableau in time, but this exposition jumps around so much that the approach is a tad off-putting.

Be that as it may the tale is compelling, and written well in and of itself with no small amount of genuine imagination to round it out. There are touches here of deviousness and atmosphere that lend gratifying flavor to the proceedings; where Griffith's narrative discretely illustrates Poe's influence, the flourishes of the "master of the macabre" are felt quite effectively with strong scene writing. Between some wonderful details in the writing, admirable and wholehearted acting from the cast, modest yet superb effects, and Griffith's firm oversight as director to make it all count, there is a palpable air of horror that manifests as the plot advances. It may be a long walk to get to that anticipated value, but the journey really is worth it. All the while, we're treated to the excellence one hopes of a filmmaker so generally esteemed: the sets and filming locations are outstanding, flush with swell minutiae; the costume design, hair, and makeup are fetching. The more robust moments come off well - and are surprisingly dark, not least at the climax - and G. W. Bitzer's cinematography remains crisp and vivid even over 100 years later. And one must certainly give credit to the stars, above all Henry B. Walthall and Spottiswoode Aitken, for even within the stereotypical silent slant of exaggerated body language and facial expressions their acting is an integral component of the weight that 'The avenging conscience' does ultimately carry.

I think the most "high and mighty" affectations of the storytelling are a little gauche, unmistakably hearkening to the culture of the 1910s and less abjectly meaningful in the twenty-first century - but so it goes. There's also one other point worth discussion, however, for to my chagrin the film employs a trope of fiction that I utterly despise. One way or another the device so often feels like a cop-out wherever it arises, a tacit admission of either having run out of ideas, or unwillingness to take a more extreme step further. Rarely is it used well, and though there was a chance it could have been utilized in this case to make the whole even more striking (and morose), that's not what we get. With all that said, however: while I think that presence here is unfortunate, I can't bring myself to get mad about it in this instance. The narrative that Griffith penned is sufficiently solid that a slow first act melts away into a second act that's unexpectedly commanding, with spicier genre garnishes than I would have assumed for an American filmmaker in 1914. The plot could have turned still more grim, yet for where we do end up, the resolution almost feels like a spot of relief after the unforeseen vibrancy of what preceded it. Not least with some creative embellishments to the end sequence, I'm inclined to think that this is an all too uncommon example of a storytelling trope, that I hate, being used and nevertheless coming off well. I never thought I'd be typing those words, but here we are.

Honestly, I'm very pleased with just how good this is. It doesn't make the best first impression, least of all given its reputation as early horror cinema, but good things come to those who wait. I had my reservations, too, having been aware ahead of time of how the title ends, but when all is said and done even those concerns were met, answered, and resolved. This won't appeal to everyone, least of all genre purists and modern viewers for whom the silent era just doesn't go down easily. All I can say is that I had mixed expectations, and even as I see other directions the last minutes could have been taken, those expectations have been handily exceeded. That reputation of 'The avenging conscience' is well deserved after all, and if you have the opportunity to watch, these seventy-eight minutes are well worth checking out!

Henry Walthall plays a man whose love for a young girl, played by Blache Sweet, drives him to murder his doting and overprotective uncle. His guilt drives him insane, and in the climactic scene where the detective pushes him to confession, Walthall is so overcome with visions of demons driving him to hell he is on the verge of an apoplectic fit. The most notable things in The Avenging Conscience, in addition to the obvious horrific tableaux and weird scenes of Pan with nymphs at the end, is the way Griffith draws characters in different places together through intercutting and use of props and gestures, i.e. books, pictures, prayer and other things. Perhaps he already had Intolerance in the back of his head while making this oddball adaptation of several Poe works. Also the film appears to have had some influence on other filmmakers; Chaplin's Sunnyside for example, owes something to the bit with Pan at the conclusion. My copy, projected a bit fast, runs only 56 minutes, and clearly there are missing scenes which makes for a choppy continuity. There is a still from The Avenging Conscience in Iris Barry's 1940 bio of Griffith that is from a scene which is no longer in the film. A different still once thought to be from The Avenging Conscience of Griffith directing Walthall holding a pistol to his head was actually taken on the set of Griffith's lost 1914 effort The Escape. The set dressing in The Escape is basically the same as that for the Uncle's home in The Avenging Conscience with a few things switched around, which suggests the two films were shot very closely together, or even simultaneously.

Henry B. Walthall stars as the Nephew, who has been raised and doted upon by his Uncle (Spottiswoode Aiken). But when the Nephew meets the Sweetheart (Blanche Sweet), the Uncle objects to their plans to get married. This leads the Nephew down a path toward murder and madness. Also featuring George Siegmann as the Italian.

This is a pretty strange movie, with a lot of unexpected developments and odd imagery, including floating Jesus, Moses and the Ten Commanments, shirtless kids crawling out of a tree, a devil hanging out with animal-headed friends, Pan playing his flute, and Mae Marsh deciding that the best way to get a man is to wear a waitress outfit. Walthall is very entertaining, especially in the unhinged final quarter of the movie. The very last section is a cheat, but not totally unexpected. This didn't hold the cultural impact of The Birth of a Nation or display the kind of artistic ambition of Intolerance, but in many ways I found this more entertaining. Recommended.

Poe's psychological story "The Tell-Tale Heart" uneasily receives Griffith's trademark Victorian approach – turning the madman anti-hero of the original into a frustrated love-struck milquetoast! The broad gestures typical of Silent-film acting render the proceedings unintentionally comical now, especially where the ghostly apparition of the murdered relative is concerned – who, by the way, is fitted with an eye-patch throughout and, yet, no reference whatsoever is made to his all-important "vulture eye"!!

Still, the various hallucinations at the climax – crude though they may be – are reasonably effective. Incidentally, the stilted presentation and moralistic overtones evident here also marked the other Griffith horror effort that I've watched – THE SORROWS OF Satan (1926); all I can say is that, in spite of the solid reputation THE AVENGING CONSCIENCE enjoys within the director's canon, personally I was underwhelmed by the film on a preliminary viewing.

Other cinematic adaptations of the classic tale I've checked out – all of them relatively recently – are the interesting 1928 short (viewed on the very same day as the Griffith title), the so-so 1936 British feature-length version and a pretty good animated rendition of it from 1953.

D.W. Griffith takes Edgar Allen Poe classics "Annabel Lee" and "The Tell-Tale Heart"; and, with some good and bad additions, creates a near-classic. Mr. Griffith creates a melancholy mood, right from the start, as the young protagonist gets an unfortunate start in life, after his mother dies; even as a baby, he looks forlorn. Quickly, the child grows up to be Henry B. Walthall; he is raised by his uncle, Spottiswoode Aitken. All goes well until Walthall begins to see "common woman" Blanche Sweet. Uncle Aitken does not approve; and, he orders Mr. Walthall to stop seeing Ms. Sweet. Desperate, Walthall considers murdering Aitken.

The performances are terrific. Walthall is very impressive, in one of his best pre-"Birth" roles. Sweet and Aitken are outstanding. All rise significantly above the uneven material. The Griffith production company's supporting cast is, as usual, extraordinary. Robert Harron and Mae Marsh provide perfect contrast as a grocery boy and maid; and, you should note, their romance provides Aitken with a change-of-heart missed by Walthall's character. Eventually, the film loses direction; as Griffith tries to merge Poe with… well, see for yourself.

Appropriately subtitled "Thou Shalt Not Kill".

******* The Avenging Conscience (8/2/14) D.W. Griffith ~ Henry B. Walthall, Blanche Sweet, Spottiswoode Aitken, George Siegmann