KEAN: Madness & Genius (1924) on TCM 10/19/14

[Robert Israel Music]

Dear People:

TCM will be broadcasting the FIlm Preservation Associates/Flicker Alley edition of Alexander Volkoff's KEAN: Madness and Genius (1924), this Sunday at 9:15 P.M. (P.S.T.). I have a great affection for this film and I also believe that this contains one of the truly great screen performances of the 1920s, given by Ivan Mosjoukine. I am very surprised that this title has not garnered the attention that it rightly deserves, and having read a scant few opinions by some fellow film lovers, I am of the opinion that this film is also greatly misunderstood. Therefore, I would like very much to encourage as many people to tune in to this film and perhaps we might find an opportunity for an online flame war, or internet brawl, or preferably, an impassioned discussion about your reaction.

I felt very privileged to have the opportunity to score this magnificent production, and I may say that David Shepard and Jeff Masino put tremendous effort in bringing the DVD collection to the market. KEAN runs at around two hours and twenty minutes and it is time very well spent.

Thank you very much.

Sincerely,

Robert Israel

[Big Silent Fan]

Here's part of my earlier comment from the June, 2013 broadcast:
"With "KEAN," Masterpiece seems the perfect description. The quality of acting, the filming, and careful editing of this engaging story done mostly with stationary (camera) images came to life on the screen with another great restoration and Robert Israel score. David Shepard said they really put much effort into this and I'm so grateful they did. The sometimes humorous story quickly came to life and drew me into the unforgettable melodrama.
My congratulations to all involved for bringing us another newly restored film. The film has brought the stage from long ago to the screen.

I've never forgotten the experience.

Rich Wagner

[Robert Israel Music]

"With "KEAN," Masterpiece seems the perfect description. The quality of acting, the filming, and careful editing of this engaging story...I've never forgotten the experience."

I am happy that you have shared your feelings about this film, and I do trust that those who have the opportunity to experience this film will feel as positive as you.

Ivan Mosjoukine's achievements in this production are something formidable: his skill as an actor, his work with Volkoff in presenting their story, the overall structure of this production, and the story that these men were setting out to tell. With regards to the latter comment, it is a highly relevant story to our own times. Apart from that, Mosjoukine's performance is astonishing in that he is able to convey so much of the psychology of his character: his bravura in the more explosive sequences, his subtlety in conveying more complex details, and his virtuoso skill in presenting the broadest range of emotions possible...it is a tremendous and beautiful thing to behold.

I really would like to know if there are more folks who may share a similar point of view as that of mine and Rich Wagner's.

Robert Israel

[Big Silent Fan]

For those who might be put off by the two hour, twenty minute run time, I'd like to suggest considering this as you might a five act play or perhaps a screen play written in five chapters (which it actually is). Then, just as you would with a book, you could watch as many chapters as you like, never stopping in the middle of a scene.

When I first watched this in 2013, I noticed times where an iris would close, fading to black, ending each chapter of the story.
When I saved my copy, I divided it accordingly into five separate parts, each a perfect spot to take a break from the film. It also was a time to reflect on what I've just seen. Knowing when to expect each act to end can be helpful.

When watching the film, you can easily see the places where the film fades to black, but here's how my copy was divided.
The time starts when the film begins for each part.

Part 1: 44:19
Part 2: 26:35
Part 3: 17.03
part 4: 24:50
Part 5: 28:28

One subject I'd like to hear thoughts on is the use of stationary cameras.
Since it's partly a story about early theatre performers, having the camera perspective unchanged during the many scenes made it feel as if I were in the audience.

Rich Wagner

[greta de groat]

Count me as another huge Mosjoukine fan, and he's brilliant in this. I'd definitely recommend it to anyone who loves great acting.

Greta

[monks19]

Can we hope that Flcker Alley/Lobster Films will finally release this on DVD/Blu Ray ?

[CoffeeDan]

Can we hope that Flicker Alley/Lobster Films will finally release this on DVD/Blu Ray ?

Where have you been? KEAN was released as part of this collection around the same time it first appeared on TCM. Robert Osborne even talked about it in his outro to the film.

Don't make me tell you again -- buy it! You won't regret it!

[Mike Gebert]

More comment on this set:

Interviewing David Shepard about Albatros DVD Set
Reviews of French Masterworks: Russian Emigres
Albatros Productions
Gribiche

[Robert Israel Music]

One subject I'd like to hear thoughts on is the use of stationary cameras.
Since it's partly a story about early theatre performers, having the camera perspective unchanged during the many scenes made it feel as if I were in the audience.

Rich Wagner

“Either the camera will dance, or I will.”
– Fred Astaire

As I read your replies to this discussion, I started thinking about this subject more and more. So please, forgive me and indulge my lengthy reply to you.

I have had discussions with younger generation film makers about camera technique and I often ask, “What do you think about hand held camera and what does it allow you to do?” The answer I have gotten most frequently is (and I paraphrase), “If I shoot something, for example a chase, I feel it makes the audience become a part of that chase.” I have gone on to ask, “You mean by shaking the camera around and having rapid editing?” I’m often disappointed with hearing, “Yeah, that’s right.” I compare this camera shaking with cooking with a habanero chili: applied carefully and it can be brilliant, overused and the dish becomes inedible.

Two examples of what I feel are “overuse” come to my mind: the Humvee chase from The Rock (1996) and the opening car chase from Quantum of Solace (2008). The disappointment for me is that, clearly, many of the shots were setup very carefully using real cars, highly skilled drivers, and clever obstacles, but the way it is shot, and the style of editing does not allow a viewer to savor in the excitement of what is on the screen. (How was it I was able to determine the setups and details? With careful slow motion viewing of these sequences…not the way an audience would see the finished product). Compare that with the car chase from To Live and Die in L.A. (1985); all of the exciting details are very clear, no matter how quickly edited or when using hand held camera, when projected at normal speed. What good is a sequence if you cannot make out details, particularly in an action scene?! And, even if a director is calling upon their viewer to use imagination as part of the experience, if you cannot establish a series of clear and convincing shots, then how can the idea become a successful component in the overall film, again, if you cannot absorb the visual information? A well shot and edited action sequence as opposed to one filled with chaotic images and presto editing is the difference between watching an artistic virtuoso magician perform an illusion without distractions, and a charlatan performing with the perennial smoke and mirrors to cover their weak technique.

As an example of muted detail, when I watched a gorgeous original 35mm IB Technicolor print of Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958), it was a revelation to me to gaze at the luscious textures of the Technicolor print; some scenes almost felt like viewing a pastel colored postcard: the interior of Ernie’s Restaurant as an example, with its velvety red wallpaper. (Spoiler alert). At the end of the film, when James Stewart has dragged Kim Novak to the top of the bell tower, she pleads with him and kisses him, when suddenly, in the corner at the trapdoor access, a dark ominous figure rises. Kim Novak, filled with fear, says “No!,” and then just before she falls from the tower, we hear off camera, “I heard voices.” It is after this shot that we may clearly see that it is a nun that has appeared. In the original print, the shadow of the nun looks practically black and it is not immediately clear what this shadow is. In more recent copies, it is lightened so much that we can see very clearly that it is a nun and, for me, diminishes the shocking effect delivered by the original print I viewed at UCLA’s (then called) Melnitz Hall. The shock of seeing a black hooded figure rising from the shadows is creepy! It preys upon one’s imagination; but now, what about an action scene? Imagine trying to watch Bruce Lee deliver his amazing martial arts technique while the camera shakes, and every punch is interrupted with quarter second edits. It would be a disaster as well as unwatchable. The thrill in any action scene, for me, is watching something that looks absolutely convincing, that has not been faked by digital computer animation, and that has not been clearly manipulated by editing in any obvious fashion–it is a scene that will appear to have been filmed exactly as it happened, only controlled by virtuoso sleight of hand.

KEAN and Stationary Camera

A friend of mine who is a British film director said to me, “If I were teaching film making today, the first thing I would do is put a two hundred pound weight on the camera and then tell the students, ‘Now, go make your film!’ ” Abel Gance’s use of extreme techniques often works because the source images are clear to the eye. His rapid cutting which accelerates to single frames is often based upon images we have absorbed, therefore, a new effect is created and achieved; or, there is a contextually defined moment calling out for such technique: Elie’s final moment from La Roue (1923), as his life flashes before his eyes just before falling to his death. The manner in which Alexander Volkoff and Ivan Mosjoukine use various styles of cinema technique in KEAN: Madness & Genius (1924), is brilliant. Clearly, using very minimal camera placement during the Shakespeare sequences is deliberate as it defines these moments as being a part of a stage presentation. I agree that we practically become part of the audience at Drury Lane Theater. Shots of the audience reaction to the stage play are few and are very static, thus giving a rather objective documentary style to those shots. As a result, these few shots do not disrupt the effect of how the stage play is being presented in this sequence. In the opening Romeo and Juliet sequence however, there is a break in this technique. It is when Kean observes the Countess sitting in the audience. The camera goes in for a close-up on Kean during the balcony sequence, as well as a close shot of the Countess. The reason for me is clear: it highlights the fact that a connection has been made between these two characters and they are no longer a part of the onstage performance–as they find themselves removed from that performance space, so we as an audience are also removed for that moment.

Compare this with some of the later sequences, particularly the bacchanalian tavern dance. The camera is completely unbound, but only a few shots of this kind are mixed in with the foundation: in other words, all the images are perfectly clear to the eye. Ultimately, Volkoff’s use of Gance’s rapid cutting technique creates a whole new expression of this form and, in my opinion, excels beyond Gance’s own application of this editing style. Why is that? Consider the effect of the tavern dance sequence. It is not built from merely a physical platform nor cinematic bravado to demonstrate that Mosjoukine can dance, but there is an important emotional component to this sequence and it is one motivation behind Kean’s debauchery: Solomon explains to the constabulary of police that despite Kean’s tremendous fame and popularity, that he is his only friend. There is something of deep pathos to watch such a grand character drink himself drunk with strangers, dancing away the night; and let us consider the fact that, we as an audience see, there are women in their respective beds thinking about Kean while his drinking and dancing is happening. He is running away from not only his creditors, but perhaps his lonliness as well.

The hornpipe dance is the third and final dance sequence, and the previous moments have ultimately built to this exciting mise-en-scène. With each dance sequence, the tempo and pacing has increased dramatically. The wildness has reached its pinnacle and the crowd is practically out of control, descending even further into alcoholic hysteria. The rapid cutting builds greater tension and effect, bringing the audience into the wild crowd, even perhaps as part of the dance itself. The sequence builds its fever pitch when finally, Kean is overwhelmed by a hallucination. The effective double exposure of images of the Countess and the Prince of Wales on horseback trampling upon Kean, trample upon us, too, This scene follows up well from the previous rapid editing, hence, it allows a cinematic transition that is satisfying visually and structurally convincing.

Consistently, Volkoff’s sparing use of the camera in motion has far more impact and resonates more convincingly as a result of his prudence. He also imparts greater meaning to his images throughout this film, thus allowing Ivan Mosjoukine’s stunning performance as Edmund Kean to be one of the 1920’s great on screen achievements. The entire cast is formidable, but it is the brilliant and charismatic Mosjoukine that is the prevailing force behind one of this film’s success secrets.

Robert Israel

[monks19]

Can we hope that Flicker Alley/Lobster Films will finally release this on DVD/Blu Ray ?

Where have you been? KEAN was released as part of this collection around the same time it first appeared on TCM. Robert Osborne even talked about it in his outro to the film.

Don't make me tell you again -- buy it! You won't regret it!

Yeah, I forgot about that one. Any other Albatros films coming soon ? Like Casanova (with I. Mosjoukine), perhaps ?

Would be quite nice to finally see this one at last (that, Napoleon and the A. Capellani & H. Fescourt versions of Les Misérables).

[Big Silent Fan]

“Either the camera will dance, or I will.”
– Fred Astaire

Ultimately, Volkoff’s use of Gance’s rapid cutting technique creates a whole new expression of this form and, in my opinion, excels beyond Gance’s own application of this editing style. Why is that? Consider the effect of the tavern dance sequence. It is not built from merely a physical platform nor cinematic bravado to demonstrate that Mosjoukine can dance, but there is an important emotional component to this sequence and it is one motivation behind Kean’s debauchery: Solomon explains to the constabulary of police that despite Kean’s tremendous fame and popularity, that he is his only friend. There is something of deep pathos to watch such a grand character drink himself drunk with strangers, dancing away the night; and let us consider the fact that, we as an audience see, there are women in their respective beds thinking about Kean while his drinking and dancing is happening. He is running away from not only his creditors, but perhaps his loneliness as well.

The hornpipe dance is the third and final dance sequence, and the previous moments have ultimately built to this exciting mise-en-scène. With each dance sequence, the tempo and pacing has increased dramatically. The wildness has reached its pinnacle and the crowd is practically out of control, descending even further into alcoholic hysteria. The rapid cutting builds greater tension and effect, bringing the audience into the wild crowd, even perhaps as part of the dance itself. The sequence builds its fever pitch when finally, Kean is overwhelmed by a hallucination. The effective double exposure of images of the Countess and the Prince of Wales on horseback trampling upon Kean, trample upon us, too, This scene follows up well from the previous rapid editing, hence, it allows a cinematic transition that is satisfying visually and structurally convincing.

Consistently, Volkoff’s sparing use of the camera in motion has far more impact and resonates more convincingly as a result of his prudence.

Robert Israel

"Edmond Kean: Prince Among Lovers" (1924)

I've watched the F. W. Murnau biography where he expressed joy that because his camera would now be able to move, it could become an active part of his story telling. His wonderful films underscored the point when those cameras were developed. Still, there is a place for stationary cameras.

During the riotous dance at the tavern (where Kean would be overcome with despair), it seemed as if Kean were on a turntable with the camera, as they went spinning round and round. Kean doesn't move, but everything in the background was a blur. Note how in the cutting, we see others dancing in circles, blending in perfectly in cuts with the spinning scenes.

Early on, I became enamored with the characters, Solomon, Edmond Kean and the Countess Elena and the story came to life before my eyes.
The stationary filming and excellent cutting seemed to draw me into the story until they each became real in my mind. With their emotions clearly portrayed, I never tired of seeing these three.

The cutting was clearly done to tell the story and never with the dizzying effect that both Gance and Eisenstein seemed to thrive on when editing their films. Repeated viewings of "Napoleon" have shown me that his rapid cutting often did little to enhance that powerful story IMO.

It was only this week (after several past viewings), when I noticed Kean's death scene went on for over ten minutes! That's a very long time and yet every second was quite powerful to watch.
No fancy special effects or ghostly departure. It was simply a gentle passing of Kean, surrounded by those who loved him. And through the magic of the cinema, I was there too.

I've enjoyed discussing this with you.

Rich Wagner

[Robert Israel Music]

The ever prolific film critic of the 1920s, Mordaunt Hall, wrote an interesting review of the American cut of Edmund Kean, Prince Among Lovers (unknown-year), published in the N.Y. Times on June 1, 1927. Apart from the fact that he was unaware of the year of the film, 1924, I would hazard a guess that the American distributor (and I do not know what company this was) failed to make a title card with this pertinent information; furthermore, Alexander Volkoff’s name had been changed to Albert St. Louis, which makes me wonder: what else might have been changed in this particular release?

Although I can appreciate Hall’s point of view with frequency (as I have often found passages in his innumerable reviews to be excellent observations), I wonder how three years of steady artistic and technical growth in the film industry, not to mention Hall’s own growth through his experience writing about film, affected his take on Kean; and again, how faithful the version he watched was to the original cut. He goes on to criticize Nathalie Lisenko’s appearance (credited in that version as “Mme. Lisene”) by writing “…makes one think of a Queen Elizabeth in one of her severer moods.” Although Hall spent the first twenty four years of his life in England and might have had a natural affinity for envisioning the visage of the queen, it would appear that “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” was not a philosophy subscribed to by the critic. Lisenko is not my cup of tea (she was married to Mosjoukine at the time the film had been made), but I thought that she had some very fine moments onscreen in this production: her restraint from the start of the deathbed sequence works much to everyone’s favor who is playing before the camera.

More startling is Hall’s statement about Mosjoukine, that he, “…is not an expert in the art of make-up, and he is often guilty of acting too much and not so well.” Boil it down to a matter of opinion or personal taste, I wonder if he saw the same film which I watched so many times when preparing my score. “It would have to be a very great actor who could give a satisfactory idea of Kean at work.” I read a similar kind of reaction in which the reviewer felt that the Shakespeare sequences didn’t work because one was wanting to hear the Bard’s words spoken. This may be a valid point of view, but it is ultimately misplaced–this is a silent film adaptation! One must divest themselves of particular expectations that may get in the way of understanding this medium. It would be like going to the ballet to see The Nutcracker and then complaining that one yearns to see and hear Hoffmann’s text instead of watching wordless dancing.

“The settings in this production are by no means effective. Drury Lane never strikes one in the least like the old London theatre…there ought to have been more exteriors showing London's highways and bye-ways.” Even though Hall may comment on personal experience with the great theater, was the opening shot missing? Where did the version he watched begin? I say this because it seemed very clear to me what the director and his partner had constructed so carefully and so cleverly. Volkoff opens with a view of the stage and its proscenium with the curtains closed. The curtains on stage rise revealing Kean’s dressing room. We linger on this shot as though we are in a theater watching the start of an onstage play. When Mosjoukine has made his appearance, the camera moves in and we are now in the film. The film ends with the curtains being lowered upon the stage, once again, the placement is as though we have witnessed this story from the point of view of an audience member at a playhouse–they are a pair of perfectly matched bookends. Hence, shots showing London's highways and bye-ways would have altered the intimacy and meaning of the opening and closing of this film. This is why I wonder if Hall saw a complete version or something edited for the American market.

Finally, Hall’s nitpicking, “At the outset Mr. Mosjoukine is much too tall to represent Kean,” is decidedly annoying. Imagine watching this silent film representation with someone the size of Buster Keaton playing Edmund Kean. How would that appearance of size work? Keaton’s frame might actually have been close to Edmund Kean’s physical height, as Kean was a short man, but within the context of a large silent film production, with no audible words available to represent the human form, why would you cast a modest sized man to play the part of a giant of an artist? I fail to see where this detail works against the film’s success, and I feel that Mosjoukine delivers an amazing cornucopia of moods, emotions, and psychological expressions. For me, I simply cannot agree with Mordaunt Hall’s review of Kean.

Robert Israel

[Ann Harding]

It's more than likely that Hall saw a heavily cut version. All European (especially French) features released in the US in the 20s were reduced versions. For example, Feyder's Crainquebille was reduced to 20 min and rated as a bad film by Variety.
In 1927, Mosjoukine was working for Universal on Surrender!, hence probably the sudden interest in Kean and its release in the US. Actually, Mosjoukine's fate in the US film industry shows how it couldn't cope with his protean talent. He was typecast as "Russian aristocrat" and ended up being the supporting male player to Mary Philbin in Surrender!. Whereas in Europe, he had a say in the writing and selection of the script, worked closely with his directors, and could therefore vary the type of characters he played, the US film industry didn't allow that.
Having seen all the Mosjoukine made in France between 1920 and 1927, it was obviously the peak of his career. The remaining was a slow and steady downfall, even if some later German features are interesting.

[Big Silent Fan]

Lisenko is not my cup of tea (she was married to Mosjoukine at the time the film had been made), but I thought that she had some very fine moments onscreen in this production: her restraint from the start of the deathbed sequence works much to everyone’s favor who is playing before the camera.
I read a similar kind of reaction in which the reviewer felt that the Shakespeare sequences didn’t work because one was wanting to hear the Bard’s words spoken. This may be a valid point of view, but it is ultimately misplaced–this is a silent film adaptation!

“The settings in this production are by no means effective. Drury Lane never strikes one in the least like the old London theatre…there ought to have been more exteriors showing London's highways and bye-ways.” Even though Hall may comment on personal experience with the great theater, was the opening shot missing? Where did the version he watched begin? I say this because it seemed very clear to me what the director and his partner had constructed so carefully and so cleverly. Volkoff opens with a view of the stage and its proscenium with the curtains closed. The curtains on stage rise revealing Kean’s dressing room. We linger on this shot as though we are in a theater watching the start of an onstage play. When Mosjoukine has made his appearance, the camera moves in and we are now in the film. The film ends with the curtains being lowered upon the stage, once again, the placement is as though we have witnessed this story from the point of view of an audience member at a playhouse–they are a pair of perfectly matched bookends. Hence, shots showing London's highways and bye-ways would have altered the intimacy and meaning of the opening and closing of this film.

Robert Israel

Oh how lucky I am to be a novice who simply enjoys watching well made films.
Nathalie Lissenko had a maturity and grace about her, evidenced by the photo at IMDB. I was completely captivated and they became the actual characters in my mind. Learning that she and Mosjoukine were married explains how perfectly suited they were to play these parts.
The beautiful girl in the story was Anna Danby played by Mary Odette. The story is about a mature Kean, hopelessly in love with someone above his class and not about someone looking for the prettiest girl.
Surely no one in 1924 would have complained they could not hear words during the Shakespearean performances. The death scene of "Romeo & Juliette" and a scene from "Hamlet" were familiar scenes and surely even the most causal fan knew those unspoken words by heart.
Finally, the film doesn't begin as real life, but as a stage play. I've seen this before but not often. Being a theatre production from the very start, I agree that exterior shots of the street were not required.

Rich Wagner