Scaramouche

Had I never read the original novel "Scaramouche" by Rafael Sabatini and had I never seen the amazing Stewart Granger film of the 1950s, then I probably would have loved this silent movie. However, the book was so good and the Granger film so perfect that I found myself forever comparing this silent epic to the others and it usually came up short. In a way, that's sad, because it IS a very good film--especially compared to other films of the day.

The basic plot is set in the days just following the French Revolution of 1789. For a few short years, the country had still not slipped into radicalism and the country was ruled by a coalition of the old elite and young upstarts. Eventually, of course, most of the elite would be executed or run off to exile, but this film is set during the last gasps of the nobles--who STILL exercised some of their old clout.

Andre (Ramon Novarro) is an orphan who hobnobs with the upper crust but is definitely not one of them. When his best friend is murdered by an evil nobleman (Lewis Stone), he vows revenge and soon becomes a very outspoken critic of the rich. However, because of his outspokenness, he is marked for death and so he hides with a traveling theater company. He becomes very successful for the plays he writes as well as his rendition of the classic "Scaramouche" character. During this time, he also practices with the sword in the hopes of one day killing Stone. Eventually, his fame on stage increases so much that he is invited to serve in the Parlement. Plus, they want him because his swordsmanship is so good they figure he'll be able to protect himself--as the nobles are always dueling with their opponents killing them (a great way to deplete the non-elite class in Parlement).

All this leads to the expected ultimate showdown with Stone, though it ends differently than the Granger film and more like the original novel. In some ways, this isn't bad, but what is missing is the great sword fight between Novarro and Stone--it ends almost as soon as it begins! In the Granger version, the fight is the longest and best sword fight in film history and something you can't miss.

Apart from the fight that just fizzled, the film does have excellent sets, cinematography and musical score (something many silents do NOT have when shown today). It's good,...but I just can't help but prefer the sumptuous and more entertaining remake. This is one of the few cases when I do prefer a remake--so it just goes to show you how wonderful Stewart Granger's version is. If you only want to see one version of the film, see that one.

Hats off to Rex Ingram. Scaramouche, like his other gorgeously mounted adventure sagas The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, The Prisoner of Zenda, or Ben-Hur (which he co-directed) illustrate clearly how the art of cinema took a body blow with the coming of sound, recovery from which took several years. The kinds of stunning compositions and environmental detail that were possible before the soundtrack era had to be jettisoned just for the sake of miking, so we lost much of this intensive artistry. Visually this film is every bit as impressive as Selznick's A Tale of Two Cities, or Korda's The Scarlet Pimpernel, both made well into the sound era over a decade later. Ingram was a visionary, right up there with Griffith, Stroheim and early DeMille. This film is beautiful right down to the title cards.

In this tale of the French Revolution we are treated to large doses of "The Masses," as in the later Selznick Tale of Two Cities. In fact, these masses are so vividly presented that one suspects that Selznick borrowed some of his imagery from Ingram. Like The Scarlet Pimpernel, Scaramouche is a participant in the events of the era. But whereas the Pimpernel used ingenious disguises and impersonations to save selected aristocrats from the guillotine, Scaramouche uses his position as popular comedic stage actor and skilled swordsman to rouse the masses to revolutionary action and successfully duel to the death with reactionary members of the National Assembly. Ramon Novarro, who plays the title character, was second only to Valentino as a heartthrob of the silent era but his countenance and manner were gentler. Lewis Stone, best known for his stern but benign elder patriarch roles in talkies, was once the dashing, chiselled-featured leading man on display here. Alice Terry as the love interest reminds us of how cinematic standards of beauty have changed. Her costuming and coiffure notwithstanding, there is a pre-20th-century quality to her, as if she stepped out of a painting or daguerrotype.

Sticking a whole lot closer to the Rafael Sabatini novel than the MGM remake with Stewart Granger in the Fifties, the silent Scaramouche was an important milestone in the career of Ramon Novarro. It was also one of the bigger moneymakers of Metro Pictures before it combined the following year as part of the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer colossus. Novarro's box office appeal was one of the bigger assets the newly created MGM acquired.

Novarro strikes the right notes of passion, romance, and swashbuckling derring-do as the young lawyer of questionable parentage who starts an odyssey of adventure when he runs afoul of nobleman Lewis Stone when he calls him out after Stone who is a master swordsman kills young Otto Matieson in a one sided contest.

With the authorities looking for him in the France of Louis XVI, Novarro takes refuge in a troupe of strolling players and plays the famous clown character Scaramouche. Before the film France falls to the Revolutionary Terror and Novarro discovers his true heritage and his true love.

Scaramouche firmly established Novarro as the number one rival of Latin Lover Rudolphe Valentino. In fact Novarro seemed to be able to handle a bigger variety of roles in silent films than Valentino. Of course we'll never know what Valentino might have done in the sound era.

Lewis Stone as the villainous nobleman who is the bane of Novarro's existence is a far cry from Judge Hardy of Carvel, the ever wise father of Mickey Rooney and Cecilia Parker later on. But Stone from the time he was on stage before the Spanish American War handled a variety of parts in stock companies and Broadway. Those were the days where you had these local theater groups to learn your trade and Stone learned it better than most. He and Lionel Barrymore were mainstays in just about every MGM production of note while they were with the studio.

Scaramouche is a deserved silent classic and don't miss it when TCM decides to run it.

In the late 1700s France, Andre-Louis Moreau (Ramon Novarro) becomes a rebel against aristocracy after his friend is killed by the evil de la Tour d'Azy (Lewis Stone). Unfortunately the woman he loves Aline (Alice Terry) is part of the aristocracy.

Elaborate, well-directed with a cast of (seemingly) thousands this is a superb drama--it's just now getting its due on a stunning brand-new print showing on TCM. Alice Terry is just gorgeous as Aline--she's breath-takingly beautiful (that comes as no surprise--director Rex Ingram was her husband) and also one heck of an actress; Lewis Stone is convincingly slimy and cruel as the villain; best of all is Novarro. Easily one of the best-looking men ever it's easy to see why he was the top box office draw of his day. Looks aside, his acting was superb--he doesn't over emote (like some silent screen actors did) and was believable every step of the way. Sadly his career was destroyed because he was gay and homophobia was riding high at MGM. This man's acting and movies deserve some overdue recognition.

The movie moves at a brisk pace, there's never a dull moment and has a very moving finale (although I had guessed the two twists at the end). A definite must-see!

This 1923 adaptation of a mid-1921 novel is one of the most faithful-to-the-original screenplays I have ever seen. Granted, large blocks of the book are omitted or greatly condensed, but who wants a 20-hour movie? The basic story line is retained and well developed.

The cinematography is superb, and the print we saw on cable was sharp and clear. It shows there is no excuse for the foggy, low-contrast prints we see in so many of the early thirties films. The sets, costumes, performances, and overall production are outstanding for any era. The silent film has been provided with a fine score, and even with its limitations is infinitely superior to the 1952 so-called "remake," which is virtually no relation to the book.

The two-hour-plus production moves along briskly (with perhaps a few too many minutes of the final mob scenes) and is exciting. Suspense is maintained very well, though my wife anticipated the ending. It was hard to keep my previous knowledge of the plot to myself.

I loved this production and give it an enthusiastic and unqualified 10.