The Night Cry

For years after seeing "The Night Cry" in John Hampton's Silent Movie Theatre in the 1970s, I could get chills down my spine from remembering one particular scene in this very rare film.

Although "The Night Cry" entry had listed Rin Tin Tin as playing himself (this correction is being written in October, 2008), in truth it is a fictive film and Rinty is merely playing a character with the same name. (This is a problem found frequently here, I understand, but apparently is more often the case with human actors.) The movie is fiction, based on what spoilsport alleged realists say can't really happen, couldn't really happen, and never did happen, but which formed the basis of campfire stories for decades, if not longer.

One other reason I fell absolutely head over heels in love with "The Night Cry" is that I saw it in the company, sort of, of its baby star, Mary Louise Miller, who was no longer a baby but still had the charm of a movie star and was still attractive and interesting.

In truth we were merely in the audience at the same time, but I did get the exciting opportunity of talking with her later and on other occasions.

It was one of the glories of living in Los Angeles in those days, the chance of actually meeting, live and in person, performers and artists who were connected with the arts in which one was immersed -- at least I was.

Mary Louise never did much in the movies after growing up and, even after all these years since I last saw her, I regret and resent that fact. She had the presence and the charm and even as a baby showed the talent to have been at least a minor star.

Rin Tin Tin, of course, was the chief attraction of the movie, but he was certainly ably supported by all the human players -- and by another non-human player whose presence motivated the heart-stopping scene for which I rate this movie a 10. (That scene has almost the emotional impact, to me, of the powerful, stunning scene in "Eleni" where the title character cries out, "My children!")

I have tried, desultorily I admit, for years now to find this movie and to try to learn if Mary Louise Miller had achieved any recognition from anyone but me. Partly because "The Night Cry" is mis-categorized in Rinty's credits and partly because I had got both Mary Louise's and the film's names wrong, I only now discovered this listing.

I have leaped gleefully at this chance to review "The Night Cry," and take this opportunity to urge everyone to see it. If you get any chance at all to watch it, grab that chance and hang on with both hands. Write to and urge Turner Classic Movies to get a copy and show it, even if only at its Sunday midnight silent movie slot. It is a classic of its type.

THIS IS ADDED: Recently I noticed, finally, that one of the film montages Turner Classic Movies uses actually contains a cut from "The Night Cry." If you see that tiny cut, you will want to URGE TCM to play the whole movie.

Rin Tin Tin (love that name) movies were made for the Saturday matinée kiddie audience of the silent era. This is the first dog star movie I've ever seen, and I got it from inter-library loan only because Jeanine Basinger wrote a chapter on Rinty in her book "Silent Stars", expounding on the wonderfulness of this wonder dog. It seems unfair for me, an adult watching this film 86 years later, to criticize it. Fortunately, there is little to find fault with.

The epic battle throughout the entire film between Rinty and the Condor was thrilling. Kudos to the bird, the cameraman and director and, of course, Rinty. Rinty's supporting human actors were fine. June Marlowe was beautiful, her face expressive, making subtitles unnecessary. Rinty's owner was bland, but the "villain", a suspicious and vindictive neighboring rancher, was properly threatening and scary.

The only faults I'll mention are (1) there were too many subtitles, a fault common to silent films. Although, on the positive side, these intrusive subtitles did teach the eager youngsters how to read. And (2) Rinty did not have enough to do. Yes, he ran like lightning across the fields in pursuit of the bad bird and he barked and leaped at the Condor on his mountainous perch, but it wasn't until his big scene at the family dinner table that he really delivered the goods. Rejected and dejected, in closeups he shows his "human" emotions, so much so that all the 6-year-olds watching recognized Rinty's dilemma and their hearts melted in sympathy. Rinty, in his quest to destroy evil, personifies virtue and goodness, which makes him an exemplary role model for children ... and for adults who need reminding.

If you like the other Rin Tin Tin silents, you'll like this one too. In In this case Rinty is a sheep dog whose master, John Martin, is a happy fellow with a happy family - wife and baby. Then one day lambs start disappearing from every flock but that of Rinty's owner. The other sheep owners get together and figure since a sheep dog never kills his own flock, the culprit must be Rinty. Things are made worse for Rinty when he spots the real killer - a condor - and chases it into a neighboring field. The sheep dog in residence there does not appreciate Rinty's intrusion and the two dogs fight it out. This diversion gives the condor time to pick out and kill his next meal. When the sheep owners arrive on the scene, they find one beat up dog, Rinty's collar, and another dead lamb. Rinty is pretty much convicted on the spot and John is ordered to destroy Rinty as it is "the law of the range". How will this all work out? Watch and find out.

Even today I'm impressed with how much expression this dog had. He could show confusion, anger, determination, you name it, with just a facial expression. And those stunts were something else. I must say though, that Warner Brothers' poverty row roots are showing in this one. When a sheep owner finds a dead lamb the thing looks very much like a toy store doll. The sheep man then carries the dead thing all over the valley - to the Martins that night when he and the other sheep men confront John about their suspicions, and around in the field with him the next day. Bury it already! Your neighbors KNOW you lost a lamb! Also the titles tended to be quite flowery and pedestrian. The final scene is just done for cuteness' sake, not because it makes any sense.

I'd recommend this one primarily for people who love watching Rin Tin Tin in action, but also for people interested in film history who are interested in what Warner Brothers' product looked like before The Jazz Singer.