La morsure

Although he was heading for a colossal fall from grace (thanks to both the advent of sound and the animosity of his boss, Louis B. Mayer), John Gilbert was riding high in 1927. His first release for the year, The Show, was a surprising success, despite its nightmarish carnival setting that echoes both Liliom and Nightmare Alley. Although Gilbert's part is totally unsympathetic, he handles it well, and easily manages to steal the film from his co-stars, Renée Adorée (who is most unflatteringly photographed and costumed), and Lionel Barrymore (who gives his heavy plenty of presence and charisma even though the role is disappointingly small). Mind you, Edward Connelly, who was so effective as Cardinal Richelieu in Gilbert's Bardelys the Magnificent (1926), does his hammy best to upstage the stars here and almost succeeds. But thanks to stacks of indulgent close-ups, John Gilbert wins the acting stakes all right. Nonetheless he is over-shadowed by cult director Tod Browning's many atmospherically noirish trappings and effects, including a staged John-the-Baptist beheading and a line-up of fake freaks such as a spider woman (Edna Tichenor), a mermaid (Betty Boyd) and a half-lady (Zalla Zarana). John Arnold, who was placed in charge of M-G-M's camera department in 1929, has photographed the film in an appropriate, heavily noir style.

The film is about several thieves and murderers who travel with carnivals and prey on decent people--in this case, a man who brought his sheep to town to sell them and his overweight daughter. The man is shot and killed (by Lionel Barrymore) to get his money, though when it turns out his daughter has the money, another of these low-lives (John Gilber) tries to film-flam the money from her. While all a bit silly when you think about it, some of the tricks they tried to use to get the money were really cool. My favorite was when they re-staged the execution of John the Bapist (who, for some odd reason, they referred to him by some name I have never heard of before--NOT John). The fake chopping off the head and sticking it on a silver platter bit was really exciting to watch--BOTH times they staged it.

Back in 1927, I am sure this film was considered better than people today would assess it. Now I am not saying it's a bad film--it's pretty good. But, the melodramatic style of the film seems dated and the idea of evil "carnies" stealing and murdering was an accepted theme back in the 20s--but today it just seems kind of silly. But despite this and a very, very, very simplistic and moralistic plot, it is pretty good and a good film for silent movie buffs. But, overall, it's not one of John Gilbert's best films nor is it one that has especially lasting appeal.

Wilkommen to Hungary, to Budapest more precisely, during the old times when the circus shows flourished in Centre Europe, those special, bizarre and popular amusements that the common people liked very much. There is in the town one of those special circus shows, "The Palace Of Illusions", where the coarse masses can enjoy strange attractions like the little lady suspended in mid-air, the living hand of Cleopatra (!) or the great Terpsichorean tragedy with Salome dancing before King Herod and not to mention the chance to watch freaks as Zela, the half lady, Arachnida, the human spider and Neptuna, the queen of the mermaids.

The ballyhoo man at "The Palace Of Illusions" is Herr Cock Robin ( Herr John Gilbert ); he will lead the audience into the mysteries and strange performances of the show, an irresistible master of ceremonies who is the object of desire of every woman, including the other circus performers, and he is not troubled if those yearning for him are half women, prostitutes or peasants.

"The Show",directed by Herr Tod Browning in the silent year of 1927, is one of those silent delicatessen treats that this German count appreciates more and more each time that it is shown at the Schloss theatre; it is not necessary to say at this German point that the binomials circus show/Tod Browning is a unique film genre that this German aristocrat savours as if it were Beluga caviar.

The film has many elements that make it special; an impeccably decadent atmosphere both in the circus show and the Budapest streets and a gloomy, menacing mood in the film story, all expertly supported by the art direction of Herr Richard Day and Herr Cedric Gibbons and the cinematography of Herr John Arnold. The main character of the film, Cock Robin, played by Herr John Gilbert suits him especially well ( it seems that the American actor didn't like very much this obscure role, a contrast indeed with his popular roles as a matinée idol ) as an unscrupulous riffraff who only cares for himself and uses the women for his own selfish purposes, economic as well as sexual, leaving aside trifles as love and such minor kinds of things; that is to say, his ethics are the same as this German count but in the Hungarian style.

Herr Gilbert 's character astonishes the audience with his wickedness, selfishness and even brutality, a character who gives no chance to regeneration during the whole film until the end of the oeuvre when some kind of human feeling finally appears thanks to the tenacity of his circus show companion, Dame Salome ( Dame Renée Adorée ) The ending, by the way, seems abrupt and imposed, and contrary to the gloomy essence of the story.

The film also scores with the disturbing presence of Herr Lionel Barrymore as "The Greek", the wicked owner of the circus show who will hatch an evil and bloody scheme against Herr Robin who is distracted by problems with money and women. Herr Barrymore uses some circus show tricks in order to get rid of his rival but when the one plan fails, the "Greek" will have to use another simple but effective method, this time with the help of a restless lizard.

Once the circus show has ended, don't forget to pay tribute, after having paid the tickets, natürlich!…, to Herr Browning and his wonderful circus films full of outsiders, wicked people and indescribable freaks, the perfect and thrilling companion for a bored aristocrat, indeed!.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must go on with the silent show.

Herr Graf Ferdinand Von Galitzien http://ferdinandvongalitzien.blogspot.com/

Show, The (1927)

*** 1/2 (out of 4)

Rare and nearly forgotten film from Tod Browning that would play a major influence on his film Freaks. Set inside a Budapest carnival, a love triangle develops between a handsome actor (John Gilbert), a crazy Greek (Lionel Barrymore) and the woman (Renee Adoree) they both love. Browning's direction is top notch here and I might go as far to say this is the best directing I've seen from him. As usual with his silent pictures, the mood and atmosphere is very rich and thick. The meanness and weirdness of the characters and story leaps right off the screen with some very memorable scenes including a decapitation. There's a scene on the stage where Barrymore plots to kill Gilbert that is highly intense and perfectly staged. The three leads are all terrific and the inside jokes about Gilbert's good looks are funny as well. "Freaks" like the Human Spider, the Half Woman and a mermaid also make an appearance.

This one, directed by Tod Browning, is a perfect Gilbert silent. It takes place in the sort of sordid and atmospheric world Browning loved -- in this case in Budapest, surrounding a "Palace of Illusions" (an urban sideshow).

Gilbert is re-teamed with Renee Adoree, and once again they work extremely well together. He's the barker and all-round utility performer (he has to be John the Baptist and take part in the beheading trick that's part of their little Salome play). It's part of the fable-quality of the story that he's simply given the name Cock Robin, from the nursery rhyme:

Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the sparrow, With my little bow and arrow ....

Adoree is the cooch dancer who plays Salome, and that's what she's called too. Lionel Barrymore is "The Greek," a brutal thief and murderer, who has taken on the role of her boyfriend. It isn't very clear how far this has gone, but it seems to be something new. He is basically forcing himself on her. She used to be involved with Gilbert, and still carries a torch for him. The jealous and dangerous Greek has a watchful eye out for any signs of rekindling, and a knife at the ready (Gilbert has a knife too; I said it was sordid).

Gilbert is a womanizer with no respect whatsoever for the female sex: he's perfectly willing to marry a stupid country girl who has just been orphaned, to get hold of her father's "whole hillsides of sheep." He's catnip to the female sex, and every woman in the movie desires him (this was the height of Gilbert's career and MGM was still handling him just right).

The story is compelling and very well plotted. You only have to accept a conveniently timed melodrama natural death and (this is only a problem now, with nature docs on TV) that a perfectly ordinary iguana is actually an extremely poisonous lizard from Madagascar. Everything else is pretty convincing. You think for a considerable time that you're in an early Von Stroheim film, a colorful movie in a convincing European setting, without a heart. You begin to think there's not a speck of redeemable stuff in Gilbert.

But the movie has something up its sleeve, and in the second half you may find yourself sobbing.

Nobody in silent films ever looked at a woman the way Gilbert did. The cynical look where he's on to the dame and her games, undresses her with his eyes, and sees all the bad in her .... that Valentino could do. But the other look, where he comprehends a woman in all her power and goodness, or absorbs all her allure like a blow, is Gilbert's alone.

To know something of his history is to know that his mother was a popular actress who abandoned him to relatives and strangers while she went on seedy tours with a repertory company. He never had a loving mother or, it would seem, a loving substitute. His first girlfriend, another actress, died horribly at Ince studios when a balcony set collapsed.

Gilbert was a ladies' man, and there were a lot of women in his life, but he seems to have genuinely adored them and always relied on their kindness and warmth to him. Women dug him right back, in life and on the screen. He's able to put all his emotional need into one intense look from those dark and brooding eyes.

Adoree isn't our present idea of a beauty. She has -- as we see in her Salome dance in a two piece Harem outfit -- no waist. But it doesn't matter a speck here, as it adds to the ordinariness and seediness of this claustrophobic world of the urban poor. And her acting is highly effective. Actually, so is all the acting. There's an ensemble of very able players in a lot of colorful and distinctive parts.

The print TCM showed is terrific, and it has an unusually effective new orchestral score by Darrell Raby. This one was well worth copying and will be well worth keeping.