Nestled away in a quaint area of Fremont, California, is where you find the Niles District. This unique area is home to an abundance of stores selling antiques, collectable and handmade goods, as well as an abundance of interesting sites, one of which is the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum. This is a must-visit if you are in the area, whether you are a fan of old movies or not (If you enjoyed The Artist, it’s a must visit!). The museum offers a unique experience; you can’t help but appreciate a simpler time while you are there.
History
The reason why this museum is so special not only to California, but all of America, is because it is not simply a building where old artifacts have been placed on display. The Essanay Film Company played a significant role in movie production. The train carried in 52 members of the Essanay Film Company into Niles on 1 April 1912, and the area would never be the same again.
Broncho Billy Anderson founded Essanay Studios alongside George Kirke Spoor. He acted in more than 300 films with 148 of them being silent western shorts. Due to the landscape in Alameda County, and the Western Pacific Railroad running through Niles Canyon, this area offered the ideal environment for western movies. Anderson and Spoor began making films in 1907, so by the time the massive film crew arrived in 1912, they had already made more than 200 films, and had created quite a name for them! [Read more…]
The Lost World (1925) – Review
People tend to underestimate the silent era of cinema. They think that the directorial style is “primitive”, the acting is poor and the atmosphere is boring. I know not everyone thinks with such a narrow viewpoint, but far too many people do. Films such as “The Lost World” prove the notion entirely wrong, with amazing technical achievements (considering the era) and an engaging story which continues to be rehashed and copied over seventy-five years later.
Professor Challenger (Wallace Beery) claims that deep within darkest Brazil dwell real live dinosaurs and other prehistoric beasts. The public ridicules this idea, save for one reporter, Edward Malone (Lloyd Hughes), who wishes to journey to Brazil with Challenger to prove himself to the woman he loves. Along for the ride are Sir John Roxton (Lewis Stone), a notorious big game hunter, Summerlee (Arthur Hoyt), a stuck-up scientist, and Paula White (Bessie Love), the daughter of an explorer who disappeared while searching for the same lost world. They eventually find their destination atop a perilous plateau and quickly become the prey of blood-thirsty dinosaurs and a terrifying Ape-Man.
Based on the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, this tale should seem rather familiar to you; it’s been told over and over again in various incarnations on a regular basis for decades. Personally, I’ve always considered the original “King Kong” to be a remake of “the Lost World”, since the similarities are pretty much undeniable. The climax of the film even includes a brontosaurus being taken back to London to be put on display, only to break free and run amok through the city. If I had to choose between “the Lost World” and “King Kong”, my preference would definitely veer in the direction of “the Lost World”. “King Kong” may have had that sappy love story (that wasn’t even really done justice until Peter Jackson’s remake), but “the Lost World” had twice as many dinosaurs. And I love me some dinosaurs.
Given the limitations of special effects back in 1925, I can’t imagine how they figured they were going to pull this film off when it went into production. Technical Director Willis H. O’Brien manages to do the impossible, bringing the rampaging giants of the Jurassic to life and working out methods which allowed them to interact with the human characters. O’Brien’s stop-motion effects are impressive, though rough when compared to his later accomplishments (such as “Mighty Joe Young” and the aforementioned “King Kong”), they’re none-the-less impressive. While movement can be a little choppy, the level of detail is rather astonishing. The dinosaurs’ chests heave in and out as they breath, they have detailed eyes which can move in all directions and even blink, they curl their lips and sneer, they drool, the works. While a far cry from the special effects we enjoy today, this was really something back in 1925.
Although the story is a little on the thin side, I think it has this sort of “modern mythology” aspect to it, considering how often it has been retold and re-imagined over the years. The characters carry the film quite nicely and even if they’re not the deepest I’ve ever seen, there’s enough to them to make each one stand out. Our hero, Malone, has a love triangle going on with Gladys, Paula and Roxton. He goes to the lost world to prove himself to Gladys only to fall for Paula, whom Roxton is in love with. Challenger looks and acts like an absolute madman, which makes his interactions with the prudish Summerlee rather amusing. There’s also the Ape-Man, probably the film’s main villain, who menaces them throughout their entire stay in the lost world. The make-up used on him is quite effective and he looks somewhat unsettling in close-ups. They paired him with a goofy chimpanzee sidekick for some reason, though.
“The Lost World” has been the fodder for many a late-night spook-show on public access television, which is of course where I first encountered it. Still, I think it deserves better than to be double-billed with the likes of “Plan Nine from Outer Space”. Image Entertainment recently released a magnificently restored DVD which takes the once hour-long abridged version of the film and combines it with scenes from multiple cuts to rein it in at an impressive 93 minutes in length. The presentation is glorious and truly worthy of such a classic and influential piece of film history. I’d highly recommend picking it up to anyone interested in dinosaurs, King Kong, silent films or just classic cinema in general.
Grade: A
The Phantom of the Opera (1925)
Some silent horror films, the truly great ones, manage to retain much of their ability to inflict terror or even the “creeps” upon those who watch it. Silent films like Nosferatu, the Cabinet of Dr. Calgari and the Phantom of the Opera are a few of the titles with such a timeless quality. Though watered-down when compared to later versions, the story still stands strong, but what really stands out over so many decades are the magnificent set design and gruesome make-up effects provided by Lon Chaney Sr.
Christine Daae’ is a beautiful up-and-coming prima donna in need of her big break. The management of the Paris Opera House begin to receive threatening letters from a spectral being calling itself “the Phantom”. The Phantom demands Christine be given the lead in the showings of Faust, otherwise terrible calamities will begin to fall upon the patrons of the Opera House. Within her dressing room, Christine hears a disembodied voice tell her of his deeds as well as his love for her, and she is swept off her feet, much to the chagrin of her heroic lover, Raoul. At first the management complies with the Phantom’s demands, but under pressue of the mother of Carlotta, another up-and-coming prima donna, Christine is kept from the lead in Faust for a single showing. During that showing, the Phantom cuts loose the great chandelier above the audience, injuring many of the spectators below. While Christine is taken away by the Phantom to his lair deep beneath the cellars of the Opera House, Raoul does some investigating and learns the Phantom’s terrible secret.
While the story is timeless, what attracts me most to the original Phantom of the Opera is the visuals. The film is very unnerving, particularly through the set design. The lanyrinthian catacombs worming their way beneath the Opera House are fantastic in their surreal, maze-like quality. Trap doors, underground rivers and sprawling tunnels really stimulate the imagination and make the chase sequence where Raoul and the Inspector hunt down the Phantom’s hidden lair all the more exciting. Honestly, the sets for this movie are equal in quality (but not quite in strangeness) to the ones seen in the Cabinet of Dr. Calgari.
Of course, there’s the big reveal which we’ve all seen a million times in a dozen different interpretations: when Christine’s curiosity gets the best of her and she unmasks the Phantom as he plays the organ. Though the shock of the scene has been severely blunted do to pop culture, the quality of the Lon Chaney’s make-up holds up magnificently after 80 years. The face, as it was described before the unmasking, was that of a skull’s. Indeed, Chaney’s visage truly does bear a striking and frightening resemblance to that of a skull, with sunken eyes, a missing nose and sharp teeth constantly gnashing at the audience. The Phantom is one of the better cinematic villains from his era, with the mystery behind the creature gradually unfolding and keeping the audience properly hooked. When he first appears he is nothing but a shadow lurking within unseen corridors, next he is a frightening man in an eerie featurless mask, then finally, he is shown as the monster he really is.
A subsequent version of the film re-editted in 1929 added color to the Bal Masque sequence, and though some detest the colorization of classic films, I find it truly enhances one of the best moments in the entire film. The Phantom’s costume of the Red Death is made a great deal more sinister in appearance with the addition of blood-red crimson. The scene where he lurks on the statue above Christine and Raoul, spying on the two lovers with his red cape flailing in the wind remains one of the most visually impressive moments in the film and quite honestly my favorite part of the movie.
The original Phantom of the Opera is my favorite version of the story, produced long before Andrew Lloyd Webber would add crazy techno music to the thing. It’s a silent classic which remains just as entertaining today as it was 80 years ago. I can’t possibly give this film anything less than an A.
Grade: A
Nosferatu (1922)
Silent horror films have a unique method of delivering scares all their own. The unsettling nature of silent horror films are the result of several combined elements; eerie organ music, dark and grainy picture, actors with too much make-up looking very unnatural, etc. Silent horror films may not be very “scary” to today’s crowd, due mostly to their slow pace and text cards cutting into the action, but they do create an atmosphere that can’t be accomplished by any other type of horror movie.
The original F. W. Murnau version of Nosferatu is the finest example of effective silent horror and one of the most influential films of the entire genre.
A quasi-retelling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula (albeit, made without permission), Nosferatu tells the story of a man named Thomas Hutter and his encounter with the grotesque vampire, Count Orlock. Thomas Hutter is a real estate agent who travels to Count Orlock’s remote castle to close a deal. Orlock is interested in moving to Bremen, Hutter’s home town. Orlock is a real freakshow, and Thomas soon develops and uneasy feeling in his presence. Orlock moves to Bremen where there’s plenty of fresh blood, and soon becomes enamored with Thomas’ wife, Ellen. Count Orlock makes it his obsession to drink Ellen’s blood and it doesn’t look like he can be stopped.
This movie is defined by several factors, but the most recognizable of all is certainly Max Schreck, the man who played Count Orlock. Nosferatu predates the likes of Bela Lugosi’s Dracula and paints a very, very different picture in regards to vampires. Count Orlock is not an attractive, “tall dark and handsome” gentleman. Far from it. In Nosferatu, vampires are vicious, vermin-like grotesqueries. Max Schreck just doesn’t look human, which is even more alarming, considering the extent of his make-up were false teeth and pointy ears. Schreck adds several touches to the character beyond just his freakish appearance. For instance, Orlock never once blinks during the entire film, adding a very subtle yet bizarre touch.
Another aspect of the movie I feel compelled to compliment on is the directorial tricks and creativity in regards to the supernatural powers and unearthly abilities of Count Orlock. The way he rises from his crate (not a coffin, mind you) on board the cargo vessel as stiff as a board is very striking and one of my favorite moments in the film. Probably the most memorable element is the use of shadows. Orlock’s shadow can be seen creeping up the stairs late at night with his body nowhere in sight. The shadow of his hand can reach across a woman’s chest and clutch her very heart. All these effects are exceedingly simple yet brilliant all at once. I suppose the one effect I didn’t like was their interpretation of “supernatural speed” in which they use fast-motion to speed up Count Orlock’s horse and wagon. It just reminded me too much of the Munsters.
Nosferatu is one of the best silent horror films ever made, ranking up there with the Cabinet of Dr. Calgari, the Phantom of the Opera and the Lost World. It holds up remarkably well for a silent film, due to its rewatch-value and innovative directorial style. It is an early look at what people thought of vampires before Dracula turned them all into pretty boys.
Grade: A