O Dinheiro

Marcel L'Herbier's "L'Argent" clocks in at 195 minutes. Nothing strange about that you might think but this is a silent film, made in France in 1928 and dealing, not in the epic themes of a "Ben Hur", an "Intolerance" or a "Napoleon" but in the contemporary, in the everyday, though not in the mundane. The title translates as 'Money' and money permeates every aspect of this picture which is 'inspired by' rather than based on a novel by Zola. It may not be a masterpiece but it is quite extraordinary just as it is extraordinary to think audiences ever took to this film, set largely in the world of stock exchanges and high finance, which isn't just on the long side but is also sophisticated and challenging. It requires more than patience; it requires intelligence. The plot may be melodramatic, necessary at the time perhaps to draw its audience in, but it is a film that deals in depth with unusual themes. It is also superbly acted, (the large cast includes the great Brigitte Helm, Alfred Abel and in a small part, Jules Berry), photographed and edited. Indeed, this is one of the great 'lost' silent pictures and it really needs rediscovery.

L'ARGENT is one of those movies whose reputation has soared over the last 50 years after being virtually forgotten shortly after it's release in 1929. Some of that had to do with the coming of sound, some of it with the worldwide Great Depression which it foreshadows and some of it with the fact that it is not an easy film to appreciate. Its stock began to rise (no pun intended) during the 1960s when the French concept of the director as auteur started to take hold. Director Marcel L'Herbier being French certainly didn't hurt.

The plot, taken from a novel by Emile Zola, about stock market speculation, is as timely as ever. Saccard, an unscrupulous banker, tries to manipulate the French stock market through speculation. He is opposed by another banker, Gunderman, who advocates caution and stability. After a brief downturn in his fortunes, Saccard uses a Lindbergh like aviator to try and return to the top. He also has designs on the aviator's wife. It all plays out at a massive dinner party which is the movie's major set piece.

The performances of the three male leads (Pierre Alcovar as Saccard, Alfred Abel as Gunderman, and Henry Victor as the aviator) are very good while the two female leads (Brigitte Helm and Mary Glory) are less so. This has more to do with their roles being underwritten then anything that the actresses do as performers. Poor Brigiite Helm as Baroness Sandorf seems little more than a stylish clotheshorse. All she does is pose and pout as a spoiled aristocrat. Mary Glory as the aviator's wife has a more substantial role.

This brings me to the biggest issue that I have with L'ARGENT. While not denying the film's reputation in some circles, I found it to be visually overdirected in the manner of L'Herbier's contemporary Abel Gance or in the later movies of Orson Welles or Stanley Kubrick. Many critics praise the film's non-linear visual style with its constantly moving camerawork and quick cut editing which are in effect throughout the 150 minute running time. However I find that these cinematic tricks get in the way of rather than enhance the story.

I first saw L'ARGENT in the 2009 Eureka Region 2 edition which ran 165 minutes. Although that version was the best one available then, this new 2019 Flicker Alley Blu-Ray surpasses it. In addition to having a better picture and tighter running time, it comes with a choice of 2 different orchestral soundtracks. Like the Eureka release it also comes with the remarkable documentary THE MAKING OF L'ARGENT also done in 1929. While it left me cold, L'ARGENT is an important film and an absolute must for lovers of silent cinema...For more reviews visit The Capsule Critic.

By the time this was first released in 1928 a great many things had already been innovated, developed, and advanced in cinema, each step along the way seeming more like a leap for the new medium. And still the picture absolutely dazzles with the artistry and ingenuity of its visuals alone. I'm hard-pressed to think of any other title in the silent era, or even immediately after the advent of talkies, that could claim camerawork as active, dynamic, and downright incredible as what we see here. Cinematographer Jules Kruger was having a total field day, pushing the envelope far beyond any conventions to give viewers the biggest spectacle possible even with his contribution by itself. Not to be outdone, art directors André Barsacq and Lazare Meerson shared their vision of outstanding, breathtaking sets with relatively few points of comparison in the late 20s. Marcel L'Herbier's own 'L'inhumaine' (1924) comes to mind, perhaps, or maybe Fred Niblo's 1925 rendition of 'Ben-Hur.' Or maybe Fritz Lang's momentous 'Metropolis' is a better frame of reference for the sets, for that's almost certainly the case when it comes to instances of rapid editing, and flashing imagery of the cold machinery of human invention, in this case representing the arbitrary, foul devilry of the world of finance. And with all this firmly in mind, L'Herbier demonstrates at no few points a tremendously keen eye for shot composition, arranging all the players and pieces in alignment with the camera in a wonderfully smart way that only further cements the marvelous skill and intelligence behind 'L'argent.'

All that's to say nothing of the many, many extras on hand, nor those fetching facets like costume design, hair, and makeup that tend to be overlooked. It's just as impressive that the feature manages to do all this with tale set in contemporary France, rather than a period piece or a work of fantasy or sci-fi; it's certainly more infrequent that cinematic storytelling of a more realistic nature is able to conjure such visual wizardry - but here we are. And then there's the plot: a vortex of greed, manipulation, corruption, deceit, and the destruction that follows in the wake of such iniquities, as infuriatingly relevant in 2023 as it was ninety-five years ago, or decades prior when Émile Zola's novel was written, or further back still when it was set. There are no surprises here, for wealth, power, and the pursuit or promise of either only ever bring out the worst in people; there are no singular lightning bolts of brilliance in the screenplay, as all the best creativity the film boasts is found in its craftsmanship. Nonetheless the story is absorbing and compelling, and ably keeps us engaged from start to finish, and as scenes are both written and directed we get no few moments that are especially potent. It helps that the cast is terrific across the board, with Pierre Alcover, Brigitte Helm, and Marie Glory particularly standing out not just for the amount of time they have on-screen, or their prominence in the story as we see it, but definitely too for the strength of their vibrant acting of range and nuance.

I don't think it's unfair to say that the building blocks of the movie kind of outshine the tale it imparts. This isn't to say that the writing is weak, but for as excellent as it may be, the title's construction is altogether extraordinary. Then again, I'm inclined to think that the plot is better about conveying major ideas rather than minute details, and also advances somewhat gradually given the length of over two and one-half hours - with a fair amount of story reserved for just the last twenty minutes. In fairness, should one read up on the history of 'L'argent' even the slightest bit it's clear that the version that now exists is not what L'Herbier originally envisioned, so one can reasonably assume that some elements were lost over time. In any event, however much one wishes to him and haw about This and That, by and large the fact remains that this is a superb, fabulously well made silent classic that continues to hold up all too well. What excitement it may not wholly, immediately foster with its narrative, it more than makes up for with the genius of the work behind the scenes, and the result all around is unquestionably grand. As a matter of personal preference some of its contemporaries may stand taller still, but one way or another 'L'argent' is fantastic, highly deserving of recognition and remembrance, and it earns a solid recommendation for anyone who appreciates older cinema.

I always feel sort of obliged to be impressed by films like this: made by Marcel L'Herbier, one of the giants of French silent cinema from a book by Zola, filmed on a grand scale that gives it an air of Importance (with a capital I), you really feel as though it would be sacrilegious to say anything but good things about it. But, to be brutally honest, this tale of lust and betrayal among financial high-fliers is a bit of a plod. It's not helped by the fact that its running time is a gargantuan three hours. It must have been difficult to make a film like this, where much of the 'action' relates to financial shenanigans, without the luxury of sound, which may be why L'Herbier felt it necessary to take so long to tell his tale, but maybe it would have been better to have waited until he could have made use of sound.

Pierre Alcover who plays Saccard, the treacherous financier who falls for the hapless heroine whose pilot lover has conveniently flown to Equatorial Guinea to drill for oil, is quite good, but Brigitte Helm, the comely object of his affections is just awful. She's the kind of actress who would overact when pretending to be asleep, and when she is on the brink of suicide she wanders into Saccard's office and stumbles around as if wounded by a sniper's bullet. Saccard looks like the manipulative weasel that he is. He fancies himself as a Napoleon of the financial world but, like Napoleon, he bites off more than he can chew when he locks horns with the urbane Gundermann.

The film does have some saving graces. L'Herbier's use of the camera is sublime, and gives the bored viewer something to concentrate on when the sluggish pace gets too much. Perhaps that is why he chose to film as a silent – the use of sound, while making the story easier to convey, would have restrained the camera and robbed the film of what vitality it possesses. The film does a good job of illustrating the corrupting influence of money, only over-emphasising its message on the rare occasion. As the character's become more depraved and self-absorbed their surroundings become more opulent, their clothes more refined, and it is clear that they are becoming prisoners of their possessions. There's also a great last scene – but you have to wait an unrealistically long time to get to it.

A masterpiece of film making, the thoughtful and observant will find much to enjoy in it. The use of camera angles and light/ shadows is astonishing at times. Then pause to consider the electrifying timing of this film - released a year before the Wall Street crash and when the National Socialism was on the rise in Germany. Then the performances - the unforgettably snake-like Baroness or the innocent beauty of Line. Then look at the expansive sets and the breathtaking - and authentic - late 20's wardrobe and art deco styling. The chessboard motif, the puppet masters inhabiting rooms behind rooms behind rooms. And the Gatsby-esque party scene against which the plot finally unravels, cutting back and forth in a giddying climax. The build-up of suspense in the radio broadcast... The intoxicating rush of the Paris crowd scene... It's easy to poke fun at a silent film and moan about its pace, which was pitched at the audience of 96 years ago; for those who have the patience to watch and appreciate it for what it is, L'Argent is a bloody brilliant film.