Tue Jul 03, 2012 4:20 pm
None of these next movies are talkies, but they're certainly OLD movies and actually presented in HD! Finally some films from my favorite decade are starting to show up on Blu-ray, the years from 1910-1919 arguably being the most creative, most varied, and most experimental era in all of film history. Not until roughly 1959-1968 was there another such burst of cinematic revolution against routine stories and entrenched stylistic convention. A couple of 1910s Mary Pickford features will debut on Blu-ray November 6th, 2012 after some delays (though are currently available to regular Milestone patrons and to members of Nitrateville), but the notoriously influential THE BIRTH OF A NATION came out last November, the French crime epic LES VAMPIRES is due this August, D. W. Griffith’s INTOLERANCE and THE MOTHER AND THE LAW are expected later this year, and just this month Kino has released a set of three sensational social issue films made between 1913 and 1916.
In a nutshell, Kino’s Blu-ray entitled “The Devil’s Needle & other tales of Vice and Redemption” is a real treat for anyone into social issue films, early 20th century history and attitudes, films of the 1910s, rare obscurities, or any combination of the above. All three films are exemplary for use of location shooting, dramatizing serious subjects with honesty, and using both editing and camera effects (especially dissolves and superimpositions) to depict inner thoughts of characters. Picture quality is generally quite good, considering their early dates, allowing for occasional severe nitrate decomposition on THE DEVIL'S NEEDLE (not to mention the oddity of Tully Marshall as the romantic lead!!) and the rainstorm of print scratches on INSIDE OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRAFFIC (which is otherwise incredibly sharp although drastically abridged to two reels from the original four), and a slightly soft-focus print for large chunks of THE CHILDREN OF EVE (which is the best film of the three). Music scores are excellent on all three films. Bonus features are sparse but rather interesting, quite unexpectedly including some 1915 outtakes! More detailed reviews of each film are below.
THE DEVIL’S NEEDLE (1916) 66m ***
Fans of classic films, sound or silent, are hardly accustomed to seeing veteran character actor Tully Marshall playing a romantic lead, and opposite Norma Talmadge, no less (who actually got top billing), but that’s exactly what he does here, even though he was already a mature 52 years old, if substantially younger-looking than his best-remembered roles over the next three decades. This surviving version of THE DEVIL’S NEEDLE, a well-made mid-teens morality play about drug addiction, was reissued in 1923, likely to capitalize on the recent death of matinee idol Wallace Reid from morphine addiction as well as the by now even greater stardom of Talmadge. Chester Withy was the director under the supervision of D. W. Griffith, and a number of recognizable Griffith touches are evident in the wording of titles explaining what characters are thinking, as well as in the expert use of cross-cutting building to the climax. It’s a tribute to the filmmaking talent at the Triangle studio that the 1916 film’s polished cinematic techniques and acting styles could hold up quite well against typical 1923 product, even though it still very much has the feel of a 1916 Triangle picture, right down to the matter-of-fact depiction of saloons and a frustrated character’s comic pouring himself a glass of whisky well-before Prohibition became the law. The only major change for the reissue seems to be an inexplicable renaming of characters, and some other title rewording, unless some of the explicit drug use was minimized for 1920s tastes and/or censorship.
The film’s plot deals with a struggling but promising modern artist named John Minturn, or “David White” in 1916 prints (Marshall), and his main model Renee Duprez, “Rene” in the original edition (Talmadge), who have a very friendly but apparently non-romantic relationship that nevertheless shows the audience there is some sexual tension going on and possible repressed feelings. Attractive socialite Patricia Devon, “Wynne Mortimer” in the original (Marguerite Marsh) becomes infatuated with both the artist and his art, but of course her wealthy lawyer father (F. A. Turner) would rather she marry the uptight and businesslike Sir Gordon Cassaway, “Hugh Gordon” in the original (Howard Gaye). Gaye’s character is ever so slightly reminiscent of Daniel Day-Lewis in A ROOM WITH A VIEW and this subplot is played largely as romantic comedy, certainly a far cry from Gaye’s dignified and subdued Robert E. Lee in THE BIRTH OF A NATION the previous year. Meanwhile, Renee has developed a habit for an unnamed drug, explained in a title card as a response to her pressures as a nurse during war service, which would of course not have been the case in the 1916 edition, as the U.S. had not yet entered the war by then. Minturn disparages Renee’s drug use, which she laughs off, but once he marries Patricia (who has become a second model for his artworks) Renee turns back to the drug more often to relieve her own heartache.
Prepared and injected with a needle, this might be a pain-killing sedative like morphine or heroin, but seems more likely to be cocaine, judging by Renee’s recommendation that Minturn try it for increased creativity, as well as her apparent usage as a stimulant rather than a relaxant and Minturn’s restless work through the night after he breaks down and tries it for himself. (This was, after all, made the same year that Triangle filmed the bizarrely surreal cocaine comedy MYSTERY OF THE LEAPING FISH with Douglas Fairbanks). Once Minturn starts using the drug he quickly becomes a hopeless addict, his “ready-made inspiration” no longer yielding paintings that are up to his earlier work. Financial woes and his persistent drug use create an uncomfortable distance between him and his new wife. Renee on the other hand had been able to control her use and eventually decides to kick the habit herself and out of guilt tries to cure Minturn. From here the plot builds into more of a standard, if earnest and well-edited melodrama, as Patricia goes to Renee’s tenement looking for her husband but is kidnapped by local crooks afraid she is a welfare worker out to stir up trouble, naturally leading to a desperate race to the rescue.
THE DEVIL’S NEEDLE may have pretty much a Hollywood ending, but contains some surprises and is an impressive early dramatization (perhaps a bit overdramatized in a few instances) of a social problem usually ignored in mainstream films (especially from the 1920s through the 1960s), a problem even more prevalent today. Interestingly it shows private individuals relying upon themselves and their friends for help, rather than upon formal social agencies, which are generally treated with suspicion. Besides the film’s often remarkable editing, it’s helped by an extensive use of location exteriors and strong performances by its three leads. Norma Talmadge easily steals the scene with her magnetic screen presence and natural personality whenever she’s on. Marguerite Marsh is also very good in showing her character’s range of emotions. Tully Marshall holds his own with an effective if rather more theatrical style, and it’s refreshing to see him as a leading man rather than an over-the-top villain or eccentric old man. Gaye and Turner are adequate in their thankless supporting roles, although Gordon’s character gets a bit more depth when he answers Patricia’s phone call for help after she senses danger in the slum district she’s visiting.
Kino’s Blu-ray has an outstanding HD transfer, but sadly the surviving print was starting to decompose before it was preserved. As a result, many stretches of the film look very good, sharp and clear with fine grain structure, and some look excellent, while many others have the tell-tale mottled fading and some have severe nitrate damage. At least it appears to be substantially complete (with a minor amount of missing footage). The piano score by Rodney Sauer is excellent and very well-recorded. The only bonus feature is a brief essay by film historian Richard Kozarski in the enclosed pamphlet.
THE DEVIL’S NEEDLE on Blu-ray --
Movie: A-
Video: B+
Audio: A
Extras: C
THE CHILDREN OF EVE (1915) 73m *** ½
The best film on the disc may have a title rather less marketable as an exploitation picture than its two companions, but is easily the most dramatically powerful of the three in its exposure of a major social concern of its time -- child labor and dangerous factory conditions -- while also treating issues of poverty, health care, illegitimacy, prostitution, alcoholism, and honest social reformers. Equally remarkable is the fact that THE CHILDREN OF EVE is a product of the Thomas Edison Studio, often regarded as a conservative bastion of primitive filmmaking techniques, crude acting, and safe commercial formulas. This is partly because so few if its films, especially its features, have been available and partly because the company gave up movie production after 1918 just as the major Hollywood studios were emerging to dominate the world market. The more Edison films are rediscovered, the more the studio’s poor reputation is becoming revised. While some live up to their stodgy expectations, others are the equal of better-known directors and studios. THE CHILDREN OF EVE, one of several impressive pictures by John Collins, is definitely an example of the latter, even if some of the acting has a distinctly theatrical flair. Collins was a prolific writer-director for Edison whose surviving films indicate a strong command of cinematic storytelling. Tragically, most of his more than two dozen films are lost, but even more tragically his career ended when he died during the 1918 flu epidemic, still only in his twenties.
The first reel of THE CHILDREN OF EVE is set in the late 1890s, and its leisurely, simple and sentimental melodrama set largely in two adjoining apartment rooms might make a viewer anticipate that the film will be one of the lesser Edison titles, with little indication of the complexly plotted melodrama to come throughout the following hour. While this section might be shortened or even watched separately as a self-contained one-reeler, it serves as a useful dramatized prologue for the rest of the film, setting up the final scene better than a simple explanatory title. An impoverished college student named Henry Clay Madison (Robert Conness) ekes out a living as a clerk and lives next door to a disillusioned aging chorus girl named Flossie Wilson (Nellie Grant) who bitterly recalls her lost innocence. Hoping at first to reform her, Madison soon falls in love, but Flossie is too ashamed of her past to marry him and hold back his career. She leaves him heartbroken, and shortly after having her baby, dies on a slum doorstep just as Madison has finally made good and coincidentally agrees to raise the young son of a dying friend, never realizing he now has a daughter of his own.
The plot picks up seventeen years later with the baby girl now a hardened slum teen known as “Fifty-Fifty Mamie” (Viola Dana) keeping company with a middle-aged small-time crook (Thomas F. Blake) and frequenting a tavern called “The Bucket of Blood.” Madison has become a wealthy but ruthless and callous factory owner with a beard that makes him look very much like popularly reviled industrialist Henry Clay Frick (the name obviously no coincidence, and Frick was still alive at the time the film was made). Ironically the young boy Bert he raised as a son, now in his 20s (Robert Walker), spends his time as an idealistic social worker in the very slum where Mamie lives. Of course Bert has to meet and reform Mamie and they fall for each other, but when Bert falls sick, Madison does not want a person of her class associating with the boy lest she drag him down to her level (essentially the same argument Flossie had given Madison for not marrying him). After her old boyfriend kills a cop, Mamie vows to go straight for good, and agrees to work undercover at one of Madison’s factories to investigate working conditions. At this point comes the memorable recreation of the notorious 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, with Mamie severely injured and Madison finally discovering her true identity. THE CHILDREN OF EVE, however, does not stoop to the pat, saccharine Hollywood ending that would become the norm within just a few years.
Originally released in November of 1915, THE CHILDREN OF EVE is a vivid portrait of 1910s city life and attitudes by a young and vibrant director reaching the creative prime of his all-too-brief career. Effective editing, notably the use of close-ups and cutaways, intensifies details and helps reduce the need for intertitles. It also often calls attention to ironic parallels in a style usually attributed to D. W. Griffith, but obviously in common use by this time. One notable such sequence depicts Madison’s elegant luncheon contrasting with his child factory employees on their lunch break, only moments before the factory will catch fire. Dissolved-in double exposures frequently indicate flashbacks or one character thinking about another character. Another nice touch, calling to mind D. W. Griffith’s THE MOTHER AND THE LAW (already in production but not yet released -- so who influenced whom, or was it parallel story geniuses cuing into the same observations of everyday life?), has the camera linger on a little girl after Mamie leaves with her boyfriend, showing her mimicking Mamie’s showy and seductive manner of walking. Another unusual aspect for movies at this time is that the costumes in the 1890s segment are fairly accurate, and obviously from an earlier time period than the contemporary 1915-era costumes in the bulk of the film. The film’s acting may be stylized, some of it indeed very broad by the standards already developing as the norm, but it is always intensely sincere. Once again the skillful blend of numerous location exteriors (from streets to rooftops) with the studio shots gives the film a gritty realistic edge that would rarely be seen again until Italian neorealism in the 40s and the American “street films” of the 1950s and 60s. Likewise the socially conscious subject matter would soon go out of fashion in Hollywood films for the next half-century.
Luckily the film seems reasonably complete and picture quality on THE CHILDREN OF EVE is good, with some moderate but rarely distracting wear, and no nitrate decomposition to speak of. However, the transfer seems slightly soft-focus through many scenes, undoubtedly a product of the original photo-chemical preservation to safety film, as there is sometimes a faint moving double-image like the film is unsteady in the gate. Some sections are extremely sharp but it’s just not as crisp an image overall as the good sections of THE DEVIL’S NEEDLE or all of THE INSIDE OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRAFFIC (which both have their own problems). Nevertheless it’s good enough that its clarity might amaze anyone who has never seen a 1910s silent movie in anything but a fuzzy contrasty dupe. Again there’s a wonderful music score by Rodney Sauer, this time sometimes also incorporating a trumpet, cello, and accordion besides the dominant piano. Particularly entertaining are the night club scenes with the music synched to the barroom musicians (although the lack of a drum on the soundtrack is slightly disconcerting). There is some discussion of THE CHILDREN OF EVE in the enclosed pamphlet, but in addition there’s a fascinating eight-minute outtake reel of raw footage from the climactic fire sequence (including the slate numbers), which used a real abandoned warehouse that was burnt down for the movie. Most of the shots were not used in the final cut, some probably felt to be an impediment to the main dramatic action (such as fire engines rushing to the scene and setting up), and others perhaps considered too disturbing (such as bodies falling from above past people scurrying down a fire escape).
THE CHILDREN OF EVE on Blu-ray --
Movie: A
Video: A-
Audio: A
Extras: C+
THE INSIDE OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRAFFIC (1913) 28m **
This short docudrama, originally about an hour in running time, was intended to expose the methods used by nationwide prostitution rings, fictionalizing the sordid misadventures of a woman (Virginia Mann) driven out of her home by her father and then trapped into the business through a fake marriage. When she refuses to pay her pimp (played by future director Edwin Carewe) and strikes out on her own, she is blacklisted and can’t make a living no matter what city she travels to. The ending is particularly stark and downbeat.
The film was presented by Samuel H. London, a government investigator who documented similar cases and arranged to have them dramatized for film. From this later reissue that survives, it looks like the full-length feature would have been quite impressive, especially by 1913 standards. Much of the acting is remarkably restrained for the era and the use of location exteriors is outstanding (including New York, New Orleans, and Denver). The major plot points remain in this abridgement, but motivations and character development are sketchy. Whether this is due simply to the distributor’s cutting the running time in half, or to censored scenes and titles, or (most likely) both, is hard to say. For example twice there is a title card with a glossary of the coded slang used by the procurers in their business, but only a few of those terms are ever used during the story as it now exists. A lengthy list of presumably famous people endorsing the film precedes the action, set in the standard 1920s-era Pastel font, and a few original title cards survive in a rather rough hand-lettered style. The Library of Congress did replace a number of missing titles (using a different font) that help make some things a bit more clear, and the excellent piano score by Ben Model helps bring a bit more coherence to the film. It may also help to read the plot description in Kevin Brownlow’s “Behind the Mask of Innocence” to learn some of the missing plot details as well as a fascinating account of the film’s legal difficulties. If a complete copy were to surface, THE INSIDE OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRAFFIC might well become one of the highest-regarded early feature films. As it stands, it’s a series of frustratingly tantalizing fragments.
The Kino Blu-ray has a superb HD transfer that reveals all of the fine detail present in the original print, but also reveals the rainstorm of scratches on the surviving material which apparently was not preserved through wet-gate printing that could have minimized the black lines. Audio recording is excellent, and besides some program notes in the enclosed pamphlet, there’s even a bonus feature of the film’s raw surviving footage before the re-insertion of numerous intertitles and re-arrangement of a couple of shots. That is presented at 24 frames-per-second rather than the natural-looking frame rate of the semi-reconstructed version, resulting in it lasting only 19 minutes.
THE INSIDE OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRAFFIC on Blu-ray --
Movie: C+
Video: B+
Audio: A
Extras: C+
The three films on this disc are a wonderful surprise in the high-definition Blu-ray format, and a welcome addition to several other notable social issue films from the era that are currently available on DVD, such as TRAFFIC IN SOULS (1913), THE ITALIAN (1915), REGENERATION (1915), THE GOLDEN CHANCE (1916), and various films by Lois Weber.
