Friday, May 29, 2020

HBO Max and the Early Films of Carl Theodor Dreyer

 
Before we dig into the exciting world of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s early films, I’d like to take a moment to discuss yet ANOTHER new streaming service, HBO Max. This debuted a couple of days ago and does anyone care? The answer should be no, but there are some good things about this service so I might as well get into it here.

The good news is if you have HBO Go or HBO Now you automatically have HBO Max. From what the fine print says I also believe that if you have a subscription to HBO via that good old fashioned cable, then you too have access, but I can’t swear on that.So other than the annoyance of having another app/service to browse I can’t really complain about “free” access. As a plus side this means I can probably ditch HBO Go, so essentially we’re just trading one for another. I don’t however know if updates for new shows will be instantaneous or not.

One of the supposed awful drawbacks of HBO Go and Now was the fact that you needed a subscription to HBO, which defeats the purpose of dealing with cable. Now there are add-on’s via YouTube TV, Hulu, Amazon Prime, and others, but the idea was to have access to HBO shows independent of cable. I’m not 100% sure that HBO Max has corrected this error, but if so that alone would be a huge plus.

Now for the service itself. The interface isn’t too different from HBO Go, which is slightly unfortunate. They still haven’t quite figured out the pace to binge shows, which honestly was perfected by Netflix. I’m not sure why other streaming services haven’t directly copied this process, and god bless skipping introductions. That said the only show I’ve watched on HBO Max thus far is Doctor Who, and I don’t plan on ever skipping that intro, because that theme song is a banger. You might also notice that Doctor Who isn’t an HBO show. This is the exclusive streaming home of it, and apparently if you’re into garbage, they are also streaming Friends and The Big Bang Theory. This is the carrot to dangle, offering things beyond the scope of just HBO. Sadly I thought the Max was for Cinemax and there’d be an endless library of softcore boobie pictures, but that does not seem to be the case. Also annoying is the fact that they have not yet made the app available on Roku, so we’re only able to access it through my Playstation 4, but I assume that will change soon.

The promos for this claim access to the Warner library of classic films, and logging on the first time you might get distracted seeing Gone with the Wind, Casablanca, and Citizen Kane available for streaming. This is undoubtedly good, but for the people who missed out on the short-lived Filmstruck, you might wonder where the rest of that catalogue is. The majority of the classic films listed under the TCM umbrella are actually Criterion titles. Since I have the Criterion Channel, this is largely superfluous, but if you don’t it’s a nice bonus. I hope in future months they add more random offerings from the MGM, Warner, RKO backlog, but that remains to be seen.

Exclusive streaming rights are arbitrary, but original content is clearly the biggest selling point for any new show. Unfortunately most people are at the point where it’s better to illegally download the one or two exclusive shows you’re interested in rather than subscribe to another useless streaming site (please don’t pay for Picard). The only original program I’m interested in is Doom Patrol, which might have started on HBO Now. Anna Kendrick has some show I’ll probably never watch on there, so not sure what gets to be on HBO and what is relegated to HBO Max. Overall I’d say it’s fine if you already get it for free, otherwise do a 7 day trial, binge Doctor Who and Doom Patrol then sign off.

Now onto some silent films

Carl Theodor Dreyer is in rare company among filmmakers. He’s one of a small handful of directors that had two entries on my last top 100 film list (The Passion of Joan of Arc, Ordet). He also spent the last several decades of his career as a reverse Terence Malick, averaging a film a decade. For his first decade though he was significantly more active. After a brief period as a screenwriter (which also included writing intertitles) he made his directorial debut in 1919. He made 8 films over the next 7 years, which surpassed his output from the last four decades of his life.

As unique and singular as his later films were, whose status has only become more legendary over time, his earlier films are much less distinguished offerings. Always conscious of the high art of the cinema, Dreyer was yet to develop a unique voice in his early work, and many of those films seem either derivative or right in line with contemporary cinema.That doesn’t mean they are bad, in fact all of them are worth checking out, they just aren’t the radical and transcendent films he would be known for afterwards. There is none of the radical compositions of Joan of Arc or the dreamlike surrealism of Vampyr. The long takes that got more extreme as he went on were also nowhere near as noticeable in these films. Even though many silent films shot in longer tableau shots, this is more typical than the mark of a revolutionary filmmaker.

You might be wondering the reason why I’m digging into all of these films. Well for starters I tracked down David Bordwell’s long out of print book The Films of Carl-Theodor Dreyer, and read through the first several chapters. It is a very academic read that is a little unnecessarily obtuse, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some great points to be gleamed. Bordwell himself has lamented some of his musings in the book, but there is still a great deal of insight to be found. The other main reason is that thanks to the wonder of YouTube, all of his early silent films are available to watch for free. So over the course of a day I re-visited Master of the House, then watched The President, Once Upon a Time, Love One Another, and The Bride of Glomdal.

Admittedly it’s been years since I watched The Parson’s Widow, Leaves From Satan’s Book, and Michael so my memory of these is largely based on Bordwell’s chapters. Michael has gotten some more attention in recent decades for being one of the earliest depiction of a homosexual relationship, even if it is subtle. Leaves From Satan’s Book was a Scandinavian answer to Griffith’s Intolerance and an attempt to re-capture markets lost to American encroachment after the first World War. I have no thoughts on The Parson’s Widow, but as I said before it is on YouTube, so go nuts.

As for the films I did watch let’s review those individually:

The President (1919)


Dreyer’s first film is one of the more solid debut features of the silent era. Many filmmakers learned more or less on the job, but because of Dreyer’s years as a writer he had plenty of time to think about how he would make a film if given the chance to direct. Dreyer believed that cinema should lean into the traditions of literature and the stage, so like Welles and Kubrick, all of Dreyer’s scripts were adaptations. What is interesting is how mediocre some of his source material was, despite it’s popularity of the day. There was something of a robust Danish stage scene of the day, however all of Dreyer’s sources have faded into obscurity.

The President, which should more accurately be titled the Magistrate, has a rather novel construction for the period. There are multiple flash-backs and time shifts in the story with several principle characters. Many silent films and early dramas have plots that rely on conflict that is obsolete today. Things like infidelity, unmarried women having children, people being shunned socially, parents/guardians disapproving of a suitor, etc. This is one reason why most of the best regarded silent films either have more violent/supernatural premises or some avant-garde techniques. Dreyer’s own Joan of Arc hits both of those marks. The President essentially tells of two generations of upper class men who abandoned common women they loved to fend for themselves. In the process the illegitimate daughter of the title character winds up accidentally killing her own illegitimate child and has to face his trial. Dreyer himself was an orphan, so it stands to reason he would have an interest in a story of this kind.

Very sordid stuff, the film is most fascinating to watch because of its order. It begins with the father’s cautionary tale and flashback, then the present revelation, and eventually the story of the daughter’s woe. There is a prison break and some redemption but nothing ever gets too convoluted. It’s not hard to follow who is who and what time period we’re in, and Dreyer can also join Kubrick’s The Killing, and Welles’ Kane in telling non-linear plots in early films. This might be the best executed of his earlier films, but be warned the version of YouTube has a few letters on screen that are nearly impossible to read.

Love One Another (1922)





This film has several titles, but I’m going with the one used on Wikipedia. This to me was probably the most interesting film of Dreyer’s early period mainly because the story line is so much bigger than mere societal drama. It certainly appears early on that our main heroine would be the victim of village gossip and that would turn out to be the central conflict. However this quickly becomes moot when you throw in anti-semitism and the Bolshevik revolution. If anyone ever wondered what a Soviet film would be like if it focused on an individual rather than the collective and was also edited in a more conventional manner, this would be the film. It was Dreyer’s first film made in Germany with a cast of many displaced Russian jews.

My only complaint is the more half-baked melodrama in the earlier part of the film. A rumor gets a girl kicked out of school right before graduation. Not saying there weren’t pearl clutching harpies back in the day, but as a motivating incident to send our heroine to St. Petersberg, it just seems weak. Her brother’s adoption of Christianity and rejecting his Yiddish heritage are a much more compelling subplot. However once you bring the revolutionaries in the mix things get interesting. The final climatic riot is still a great sequence, and worth the price of admission. Even among the more obscure early Dreyer titles, this film seems to get very little attention. It’s a shame for it might be the best of his early work. There are apparently only four known prints of this film in existence, but it is on YouTube.

Once Upon a Time (1922)


This film was thought lost for a time, and frankly the version in existence is still a little incomplete. The current version circulating used a few production stills and an existing script to try and patch it together. The title would certainly suggest it’s a fairy tale, and it is of sorts, complete with the somewhat arbitrary handling of death so common in stories of this sort. There is a general lack of supernatural or fantastic elements, save one magic lamp that can glimpse into the future ever so slightly.

The problem with the film itself is that it doesn’t seem to lean far enough into the fairy tale elements while not making the more grounded sequences believable. As a result it seems awkwardly perched between two contrasting tones and it doesn’t mesh. This is strictly a historical curiosity for people digging deep into Dreyer’s work so I can’t in good faith recommend it except for the completionist.

Master of the House (1925)


Long known as Thou Shalt Honor Thy Wife, Master of the House is the only of Dreyer’s pre-Joan films to be given the Criterion treatment. For that reason I took a break from YouTube to watch this on The Criterion Channel. It is frequently cited as the closest thing to a comedy Dreyer made. For those expecting a silent comedy you will be sorely let down, and despite a somewhat lighter tone than most of his other films it’s not exactly a laugh riot. Dreyer was known to take exceptional care when designing sets for his films, and he built a completely enclosed apartment for this movie. There is a sort of claustrophobia and the oppressive nature of the housework is easily conveyed by the numerous obstacles throughout the house.

It is a domestic satire if you will about one husband taking his wife for granted. When she leaves to rest, he has to assume the household duties and learns the true meaning of Christmas or some shit. This isn’t pure misogynistic Mr. Mom stuff, but it does indicate that we could all be a little kinder to each other. Each member of the house is doing their part to keep things together. I’m not sure what the feminist take on this film is, if anything it could serve as a curious oddity to modern viewers. It is noteworthy more for what it points to in later films. Dreyer would return to the closed in set with longer shots in Ordet, but the claustrophobia would be much more pronounced in The Passion of Joan of Arc. There is a lot more information on this via the Criterion blu-ray so feel free to check that out. Overall though I would say the film is merely ok.

The Bride of Glomdal (1926)


Made in Norway, this was Dreyer’s last film before the international triumph of Joan of Arc. This film was barely a blip on the radar and honestly I wasn’t even aware of it’s existence. There are several versions of it ranging from about 70 minutes to 115, so no idea which still exists. It was made in Norway from an instantly forgotten novel by Jacob Breda Bull. As much as I wanted to believe that Dreyer’s final film of his early period would be leading to the culmination of everything before it, this is a boring mess.

The story is about two people on neighboring farms who essentially are in love. Another man asks to marry the girl, the father approves, and she runs off. She is disowned by her father, and with the help of the town priest, the families are reconciled and they get married. On the way to the wedding the jilted former fiance sabotages their transportation and a very boring sequence of the groom trying to cross the river on horse and trying extremely slowly to catch some logs so he doesn’t drown rounds it out. The climax reminds you of Griffith’s Way Down East, but without the breaking ice. No doubt the ending was meant as a showstopper and it certainly feels like it compared to the rest of the incredibly boring and pointless film. I would definitely pass on this one for anyone other than pure completionists.

So there it is, Dreyer’s early work. Passion of Joan of Arc was next, and it remains one of the greatest films of all time. I would recommend investigating some of his earlier work especially if you are relatively ignorant of what was once a very dominant Scandinavian film industry. A couple would be completely forgotten if it weren’t for the fact that Dreyer was attached. It is something of a miracle that all of his output as director survives, a fate that wouldn’t be as kind to others like Sjostrom, Murnau, Lubitsch, Ozu, and countless others. Are any of these films better than his later triumphs, that’s debatable, but find out for yourself.

No comments:

Post a Comment