Hævnens nat

Almost a century after it was made, this did play in Berlin at the International Festival. Did it look a bit dated? You bet it did. From the film itself, its plot up to the acting (there are scenes in it, that are almost comical, because it's obvious that the actor is trying to fool the viewer into thinking an accident is happening).

This still has an impact though, which comes down to its story and the fact that the characters do have more than one dimension. Clichés can not be avoided, but that could not be otherwise especially because back then they weren't considered clichés (not that many movies to make things that obvious that is). The moral tale is a nice one, the overacting might throw you off a bit, but overall this is a fine example of what good movies looked "back in the day" ...

A handsome looking but overlong drama stylishly directed by the great Benjamin Christensen and immaculately photographed by cameraman Johan Ankerstjerne, with whom Christensen later collaborated on his celebrated semi-documentary on witchcraft, 'Haxan' (1922).

The action of 'Hævnens Nat' spans 15 years; there's an awful lot going on and the film meanders somewhat before eventually arriving at a superbly lit but preposterous climax in a large elegant house designed by Hjalmar Klæbel in which women get pounced upon, doors broken down, and so on.

The hammiest performance in the film is ironically by Christensen himself as the hard done-by 'Strong Henry'.

A man is arrested and think it was the woman, who promise to help him, who betrayed him, he escape from the prison and as a bill he must get out of the world. Benjamin Christensen was a master of the silent era. With Carl Th. Dreyer he was the best known danes in the cinema-world, before von Trier.

This suspensor is amazing. A movie who is directed with a touch, as only a master can do it. Especially the way he used the shadows is perfect. A really silent masterpiece. Sad that there are, so few people who have seen it.

Horror film fans must acknowledge a Danish director whom contributed mightily to the themes, look and feel to today's fright movies. Beside his 1922 "Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages," cinematic aficionados are unfamiliar with Denmark Benjamin Christensen's body of work, especially his early films. But the actor-turned-film director invented the horror/crime aesthetics in film that is so familiarly seen in modern motion pictures.

As a stage actor, Christensen focused on being a wine salesman before introduced to cinema as an actor in front of the camera in 1911. His resources were great enough that he took control over a small Danish movie production company and personally directed his first film, 1914's "The Mysterious X." Two years later he's directing another "innocent man accused of a crime" movie, September 1916's "Blind Justice." Both films showed a remarkable sophistication in movie-making: his shot composition, camera movement, and ominous shadow lighting created numerous sequences filled with heart-throbbing, knee-buckling tension on the screen. Film historians see Christensen's first two films as one of the most astonishing directorial debuts in movie history.

"Blind Justice" contains one of the first, if not the first fake jump scare sequences on film where viewers are jolted by a sudden movement, only to prove to the audience that everything's just innocent. Check out the 18 minute mark of "Blind Justice" in which Christensen positions his camera looking through a keyhole, then progressing to a silhouetted figure climbing through a window. Later on towards the movie's exciting conclusion, Christensen uses a unique jolting effect where he has the attacker suddenly jump invisibly from the side of the frame onto his victim. This quick appearance of a potential killer is seen in Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 "Pyscho" and John Carpenter's 1978 "Halloween," among in countless of other horror films.

Christensen, who played the wronged-killer in "Blind Justice," saw his work failing to gain an audience in Denmark during World War One, when his two movies were released. He returned to stage acting since it proved more lucrative than producing movies at that time. After the war, he spent three years researching about witchcraft, resulting in his 1922 classic.

"Häxan" (or "Witchcraft Through the Ages") is Benjamin Christensen's only film that is well known, which is unfortunate, as it's apparent that he did not create only a sole motion picture of note. I think his first one, "Sealed Orders" (Det Hemmelighedsfulde X) was interesting, but this, "Blind Justice", is a film markedly deserving of more attention. There are many film buffs and enthusiasts out there who I think would especially enjoy this. Danish silent cinema is often overlooked in film history; Carl Theodor Dreyer's films are the exception. And so, Christensen, probably Denmark's second greatest filmmaker of the era, remains, essentially, a director of one film.

This cannot be blamed on any lack of promotion of the film on Christensen's part. "Blind Justice" begins shamelessly with ballyhoo over Christensen's talent (not an unusual introduction). Then, he shows off a model of the villa used in the story. This is a delightful scene in itself, with the glowing windows in the model against the low-key lighting. Some, if they haven't seen the entire picture, might have seen clips of it, including this one and a few of the other most notable ones, which gives one an idea of the advanced chiaroscuro lighting and other visual effects that Christensen accomplished by 1916.

From the scene with the model of the villa, the film jumps right into the story. Christensen himself performs the role of tragic protagonist. The scenes at the villa beginning the story, with Christensen meeting Ann are great, especially in displaying a mastering of lighting and cinematography by Christensen and cinematographer Johan Ankerstjerne. The film ends well, too, with monstrous horror.

The film features the common (in Denmark) technique of flipping a light switch or turning on a lamp to seemingly light up rooms (they actually stop filming and setup the lighting before resuming). There are other instances of lighting made to seem diegetic, or that are diegetic; as well, there's some good use of tinting. Additionally, there are some interesting camera shots. The peephole POV ones aren't very original, but the outward dolly shot from the window that Christensen's character enters a room through is stunning. Such moments, especially early in the history of cinema, are rare enough; it's unfortunate that the films themselves can be such a rare find.