L'aigle des mers

All right, I want to add a few things. First of all there are 2 films, not 2 film versions. The 1924 silent version adheres to the book, which I bought and read many years ago. I see that some battles scenes were lifted from this version. For a silent film it is very good. The 1940 version is very good as well. It's political sea drama between England and Spain. There is a galley and escape scene. There are sea battles with sound (which would not be hard updating the silent film.

I believe that Raphael Sabatini's version deserves to be remade. If you read Captain Blood, it reads like a film. The book The Seahawk is a great read. Check it out for yourself.

I joined this film in progress on TCM earlier this month. Well this film kept me riveted to my seat. Milton Sills' performance is so impressive, so dashing, so heroic that I was completely enchanted. The magic of movie-making. While this film has none of the advantages of modern special effects and lighting and so forth it is nevertheless a slam-bang, rip-roaring, adventure romance. There is something in this film that permits one to fully enter within the story, to suspend disbelief and to experience, if for that brief time, a land of fantasy that entertains as well as elevates. Superlatives are not hyperbole when it comes to The Sea Hawk.

Frank Lloyd was definitely the director of sea adventure films. Definitely, entirely, absolutely. And I am sure there are many other gems that are forever lost, silent gems of course. But this one was at least saved, so let's take advantage of it...It is not below nor bettter than the Michael Curtiz's remake starring Errol Flynn, in terms of production design, budget, I mean. Not at all, and the technical elements were not the same either.... Let's consider this please. For me Frank Lloyd would deserve a total research of his filmography, despite the fact that the bulk of it is lost. Back to this one, of coourse the action sequences are jaw dropping, for this period of time: the 1920's...A must see.

In the brave, bold swashbuckling days when Queen Elizabeth reigned, and waves crashed mightily onto England's Cornish coast, seafaring knight Milton Sills (as Oliver "Noll" Tressilian) courts neighboring pretty Enid Bennett (as Rosamund Godolphin). Ms. Bennett's brother Wallace MacDonald (as Peter Godolphin) doesn't want her to wed Mr. Sills, calling him a "blood-thirsty buccaneer!" Their guardian, Marc McDermott (as John Killigrew), agrees, and swords are raised. Sills is merciful, but likewise handsome young half-brother Lloyd Hughes (as Lionel "Lal" Tressilian) kills Mr. MacDonald in a duel.

Covering for his beloved brother, Sills allows himself to be blamed for Mr. Hughes act. Hughes is anything but grateful, making a deal with dastardly Wallace Beery (as Jasper Leigh) that lands Sills on a slave ship. While using his muscular frame on a ship's galley slave row, Stills gets cozy with partner Albert Prisco (as Yusuf-Ben-Moktar). The brawny men successfully break the chains that bind them, but Mr. Prisco dies in sniper fire. Making his escape, Stills rejects Christianity and converts to the Moslem faith of his deceased friend. Sills changes his name to "Sakr-el-Bahr" ("The Sea Hawk"), and enacts his revenge...

"The Sea Hawk" had audiences coming back for multiple viewings, and was a big hit for First National; it also moved director Frank Lloyd further into the small circle of epic filmmakers. The film boasts big - and big-looking, thanks to Lloyd's incredible use of the picture frame - production values; and, it is beautifully paced. Watch how well Lloyd fills the screen during the "interrupted wedding" between Hughes and Bennett. Much of the seafaring footage was plundered to insert in later Warner Bros. films - and, it's likely not all of the stolen scenes were returned to the original; witness, for example, Sills' escape from slavery.

Critically acclaimed, as well as popular, "The Sea Hawk" was cited as the year's "Best Picture" by "Motion Picture" magazine. "Photoplay" declared "The Dramatic Life of Abraham Lincoln" the winner, while "Film Daily" had "The Thief of Bagdad" edging out "The Sea Hawk" by one vote. Moreover, the later two immediately began placing high on "all-time" greatest film lists. The heroic Sills may be uncommonly staid; but, in hindsight, this is preferable to the usual overplaying. Hughes performed exceptionally; he rose to #6 in a "Motion Picture" star poll, with Sills behind at #13. Bennett has relatively little to do, but Mr. Berry certainly makes a good impression; soon, he would become the biggest star from the cast, which has a dozen notable actors.

******** The Sea Hawk (6/2/24) Frank Lloyd ~ Milton Sills, Lloyd Hughes, Wallace Beery, Enid Bennett

In the 1920s motion pictures were bigger than at any other time. They were big in all directions, and their bigness was all the more impressive because it was based in doing everything for real. The widescreen epics of the 1950s may be more readily called to mind, but in truth they cut corners and tricked the eye wherever possible. The Sea Hawk is a nautical adventure with real ships, real mansions and palaces, real hordes of extras, all purposely built or acquired for one colossus of a production.

Producer-director Frank Lloyd was great at this sort of thing, an expert in blending the large canvas with the small. He opens with a cavernous shot of the protagonist's home, showing off both the height and depth of the lavish set in what is a typical piece of mid-20s extravagance. It's not dwelt on though. While Lloyd eschews close-ups, the majority of his action takes place in delicately composed mid-shots, encouraging the actors to play out their scene with the minimum of fuss. He doesn't move the camera very much but movement within the frame is crucial to Lloyd's style. Rather than fashioning action scenes with lots of rapid cross-cutting, as was the norm back then, he uses gradual shifts in the image, building up tension before a big sea battle by having the attacking ship slowly hove into view. In a shot of dozens of men fighting on deck, the focus is changed as the two opposing captains cut across the foreground. Lloyd even uses things moving on or off the screen for emotional effect, as in Sir Oliver's poignant farewell to his loyal corsairs.

Big in scope, The Sea Hawk is also big in story and may seem a little slow-paced at times. It is a bit frustrating that we are thirty-five minutes into the two-hour runtime before our seafaring hero is actually bounding over the main (that means "at sea", landlubbers). Luckily however, the Rafael Sabatini source novel is pure adventuresome fare, and even on dry land we get plenty of duels and dastardly intrigue. The lengthy runtime also serves to give the story a sense of stature, making Sir Oliver's adventures seem like an odyssey taking place over many years, rather than the simple caper on the briny that a mere 90 minutes would be.

A big production demands big stars. However lead man Milton Sills was not quite in the front rank of stars, and is more or less forgotten today. While not up there with Douglas Fairbanks and Ramon Navarro he can hold his own, with subtle, naturalistic acting and a very piercing gaze. In fact there are smooth understated performances all round, leading lady Enid Bennett refreshingly calm in an era when most actresses were required to go into over-the-top hysterics at the drop of a hatpin. Her scene with Sills as they kiss-and-make-up after his duel with Godolphin is absolutely sublime, and typical of the kind of tasteful melodrama that Frank Lloyd oversaw. The only player who is a bit hammy is Lloyd Hughes, who portrays the hero's double-dealing brother. Hughes looks uncannily like unsung silent comic Charley Chase. I must also mention Wallace Beery who, putting on his best lovable rogue act, is excellent as always. He can draw attention to himself without ever once appearing to show off, standing out from the crowd in the victory march after the corsairs' return from England with that little extra swagger in his step.

The large pictures of the 1950s have been lambasted by some critics, both then and now, as being overblown and soulless behemoths. You have to admire the audacity of these silent epics however, made with the seemingly limitless resources of the roaring twenties, and complete with confidence in their own scale. Rather than seeing what they could knock together on the back lot, they would actually put out to sea and do it all for real. And nothing, not even the most advanced CGI, can top that. But to do that and still tell the human story with tact and dignity is a feat indeed. In fact, compared to the 1950s epics, where the whole point was to show off the big set-pieces (and thus compete with TV), The Sea Hawk is not especially ostentatious. The big ships and buildings are there, but we aren't made to marvel at them; they are simply there because they should be, a very expensive yet faithful backdrop. And the genuine nature of this backdrop brings The Sea Hawk to us as a real-life adventure. If only all epic cinema could be like this.