The centering of snakes in any way in a 1916 film is striking; I feel like the limbless reptiles tend to not get much love in cinema generally, let alone in its earliest years. Just as noteworthy here is that like no few other pictures in the silent era, this one is marked by various techniques that are unquestionably simple compared to what would develop over time even before the advent of talkies, and certainly thereafter. Ported from the stage and compensating for lack of sound, performances rely on exaggerated body language and facial expressions (as opposed to the more nuanced and natural acting we would start seeing even only a few years later). Intertitles (here apparently restored only thanks to the outside input from the filmmaker) are relatively straightforward and plainspoken in regards to both exposition and dialogue. Between the conventions of the growing medium, the prevalent projection speed, the noted acting, and arguably too Abel Gance's direction, it also seems in this case as though scenes at large carry themselves with curt, forthright airs that rather amplify the contrivance. None of this speaks directly to the quality of the feature, but these are the first elements to start to make an impression, and I can understand why some modern viewers may have difficulty engaging with older movies (I'd have said the same of myself at one time); this isn't necessarily an example likely to change anyone's mind.
On the other hand, with all this having been said - for those receptive to the style, 'Les gaz mortels' assuredly remains an upstanding classic, not just for Gance but also frankly for cinema at large. The tale devised by the filmmaker is relatively unsophisticated, perhaps, and carries undeniably familiar narrative strains, but is filled with little turns and plentiful detail to keep us engaged. We are presented with a violent rake as a major villain, joined by duplicitous persons entrusted with a child's care ('Les misérables,' anyone?); an innocent woman who becomes a pawn; and heroic figures upon whose shoulders all the drama falls. Into this mix are woven themes of grief, vengeance, greed, corruption, and hatred, and in some measure the anti-war sentiments that Gance would heavily emphasize a few years later with his titanic opus 'J'accuse.' Worthy on its own, the narrative is bolstered by brusque but tight scene writing to build the tableau piece by piece, and Gance's direction is steady and firm in cementing the action and mood at any time, not least through guidance of his cast. With this said, I feel as though this picture goes to an unexpectedly dark place given the scheming of the antagonist figures and the plot ideas to unfold in the latter half, arguably somewhat ahead of its time at least standing next to most contemporary fare. Be that true or not, the story is strong and compelling, and very ably holds our attention all the while with unanticipated tension and suspense.
The crew also turned in outstanding work for the production, with some aspects coming across as possibly a bit advanced for the industry in the 1910s, or at least distinctly ahead of their peers. The effects and stunts that are employed definitely seem larger and more complicated than what we saw in other titles of the time. Meanwhile, though the construction in some capacities reflects "simpler entertainment for a simpler time" and what are now outdated techniques of film-making, Léonce-Henri Burel's cinematography indisputably surpasses what his colleagues were achieving in the same timeframe, or in the very least is on par with the very best thereof. Dynamic camera movement, close-ups, and other notions we take for granted now are impressive in light of the pioneering evolution of the medium. The editing also seems quite shrewd, and this is to say nothing of the commendable thought and labor put into the sets, costume design, or hair and makeup. Really, all around this is very well done, and ultimately while at first it may not seem like much, for those who can appreciate the silent era 'Les gaz mortels' deliberately unveils its strengths and value as these 71 minutes progress. To be honest, when all is said and done I think this quite stands as tall as any of its more renowned brethren from the same period; those facets which show their age are in my opinion far outweighed by the high quality and ingenuity that the feature otherwise represents. Though this may not sit well with all modern viewers just on account of the differences in style, at length I'm inclined to think this is well worth seeking out both as an early classic of film and just as much so on its own merits. That the intertitles were reconstructed in French means non-speakers have to put in some work to enjoy it, but as far as I'm concerned the effort is worth it, and 'Les gaz mortels' deserves more recognition in retrospect. Bravo!
