La tigresse royale

The name and fame of the Italian silent diva Frau Pina Menichelli is irremediable linked to Herr Giovanni Pastrone; the director of "Cabiria" (1914) who was the mentor of Frau Menichelli. Although the Italian actress already landed minor roles in previous films, Herr Pastrone definitely launched her career as a silent star by giving her the leading role in a very remarkable film for both.

"Tigre Reale" (1916) was the film that consolidated Frau Menichelli's stardom, a film more than suitable for her performing skills and silent idiosyncrasy that any silent diva would kill to star in… In "Tigre Reale", Frau Menichelli performs the part of Frau Natka, a Russian countess with a troublesome past and an uncertain future. She was married to a revolutionary and the matrimony ended in tragedy. She likes to flirt with men but due to her traumatic sentimental past, she doesn't allow herself attachments. That is until she meets a young diplomat who will help her to make up her mind and exorcize her old sentimental traumas.

One of the most remarkable aspects of "Tigre Reale" is the depurated cinematic style that Herr Pastrone has, in comparison with the old static shots of his early oeuvres. This includes camera movements and special effects.

The picture inserts a long flashback where the countess Natka explains to her lover her troublesome past. These are film sequences that settled in Siberia and in parallel actual ones, in what it are a splendid use of film narrative and editing.

It must be said that probably the Italian actress was one of the most self-conscious divas of the silent screen. Frau Menichelli acting is always deliciously exaggerated and theatrical, perfect for the roles she starred as a man eater, a femme fatale with an obscure past that posses an implicit and disturbing eroticism.

In "Tigre Reale" there are other remarkable early silent figures such as Herr Febo Mari, an important Italian actor and director who plays the role of Herr Dolski, Countess' Natka's revolutionary husband and Herr Segundo de Chomón, master of the early special effects and camera tricks during these old silent days.

With such background, "Tigre Reale" is certainly a very remarkable early silent film, a romantic drama full of passion, tragedy, troublesome relationships and finally regeneration. It's a kind of Opera atmosphere successfully transferred to the silent screen.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must enquire about if a German count and a Russian countess could get along well.

Herr Graf Ferdinand Von Galitzien

Ah, the silent era. A time when, especially as full-length features were only just coming into their own in the 1910s, as seen here, movies were often marked with a definite air of contrivance. That's no particular fault, even as it certainly means modern viewers may have a hard time abiding these earliest pictures. However, taking into account various factors - the curtness and sometimes inelegance of editing, the state of technology in capturing footage in the first place with a slightly stilted frame rate, the use of intertitles to amplify divisions between scenes and moments, and direction and performances that exaggerate every gesture and expression - the developing medium served up its first features with an enhanced sense of having been staged, scene by scene, as though ported directly from live theater (as was sometimes almost literally true). That holds true even as details like set design and decoration, costume design, hair and makeup, lighting, and cinematography tend to show a great attentiveness for so young an industry. And so it is with 'Tigre reale' - the movie struggles, through no fault of its own, to balance a fluidity of storytelling with a marginally more inorganic, mechanical craft of film-making.

More substantively, however, I feel like 'Tigre reale' has difficulty finding its focus. Exposition bleeds into active tale with a nonchalance portending not ease of narrative flow, but confusion of what should be appropriately centered at any given time. With that, and also somewhat disjointed intertitles relating dialogue, the picture further bears a lack of total clarity as the story advances. This flaw is most apparent in the considerable central portion of the feature, a flashback in which Natka discloses her past to Ferlita, during which conveyance of the plot feels flagging and incomplete. Ultimately the tale being told IS whole, and cohesive - and compelling! - yet coherence and communication thereof is found more from the benefit of additional outside context than from the cinematic experience itself.

Yet, curiously, even as these issues severely dampen the enjoyment one may glean from it, 'Tigre reale' nonetheless boasts some impressive performances. I watch this and I see acting characterized by strong range, nuance, and physicality, highlighting the vibrant personalities of the characters. That goes most of all for star Pina Menichelli, whose portrayal of Natka is lively and spirited, and the deserving centerpiece of the picture. Scenes feel pointedly fabricated, and much of the story doesn't come across with nearly the effectiveness that one should hope, but somehow the cast draws from a wellspring of sincerity to impart a strength and weight that's otherwise floundering. Commendations to them all!

I find myself at odds. I love movies, and have a special soft spot for silent films, and I try to find the value in everything I watch, no matter its broad quality. I do think there's much to like about this picture - the acting more than anything else, but also the care put into visual elements generally, and the engaging drama of the overall narrative. On the other hand, rough craft exacerbates the weakness of storytelling that is already flimsy and almost nebulous at points. It is, to say the least, not easy to cultivate an appreciation for a film when the fundamental transmission of its content is so deeply imperfect. I want to like this more than I do, and am at least gratified that the last act largely sheds those problems that weigh so heavily on much of the length. But still, the harsh deficiencies that limit what 'Tigre reale' could have been can't be ignored.

For those who already love the silent era, and who don't mind digging through some muck to find the savory meat of a feature, 'Tigre reale' may be cautiously recommendable. For anyone else - well, time is perhaps best spent elsewhere.

In this film, Giovanni Pastrone successfully applies to the melodrama genre the innovative cinematographic language that he had developed in Cabiria. As in Cabiria, there are ellipses in the action to cover a long period of time; in addition, there is here a long flashback where the Countess tells the story of her dramatic first love. Cross-cutting is used efficiently and filming combines camera movements and alternating between wide shots, medium shots and close-ups. Numerous indoor and outdoor sets are used with spectacular scenes involving a troika sledge in deep snow and a theatre and hotel engulfed in fire. Orange, yellow, green, blue and red tainting is used to convey the atmosphere of the various scenes. Pina Menichelli, one of the great Italian stars of the time is wonderful as a femme fatale and all men around her are only sidekicks, although Febo Mari is quite convincing as the polish outlaw desperately in love with the beautiful countess.

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Diplomat Alberto Nepoti meets beautiful Russian countess Pina Menichelli. She lets him call on her, then sends him a note saying "I love you, goodbye". Some time later, she calls him back. When he confesses his passion for him, she scoffs, and tells him of the young revolutionary she gave her heart to. He betrayed her.

Signorina Menichelli appears in her second starring role for Pastrone, already established as a diva of the Italian screen. I found her acting very broad and her overly mascaraed eyes a bit offputting, but there's little doubt about the power of her performance in this overheated plotline; Segundo de Chomon was called in to run the cameras and special effects in the sequence in which, having taken poison, the theater next to the hotel she is in burns down and spreads to her room.

Pastrone's technique continues to be very advanced, with long gaps in the story, and camerawork that makes use of subtle pans to redirect the audience's eyes, and some wonderful sequences in the snow. The story is not to my taste, but there's no missing the excellence of the production.