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.

The Birth of a Nation (1915)

I’ve written a few words over the years about D.W. Griffith and his two seminal masterpieces The Birth of a Nation and Intolerance.  In fact nearly everyone whose written anything about cinema has written a few words about these two landmarks of American film.  A couple of weeks ago I watched both films again and it got my mind aflutter.  Due to my tendency to write too much, here’s the first part of that review, on The Birth of a Nation.

It is hard for me to divorce these films from their historical era.  This isn’t necessarily a problem, because it is important to view things in the context of history.  We shouldn’t judge Robocop’s ED-209 with it's noticeable stop motion animation by today’s CGI-fests.  It’s important to know the limitations of the era and respect the often ingenious solutions filmmakers got around certain practical problems.  This helps explain some of the awe I have watching the battle scenes in Birth of a Nation, and particularly the Babylonian sequence in Intolerance.  I still wager Intolerance is impressive today, even knowing that modern special effects were over half a century away.

Looking at these films as a product of their time brings a few problems however.  The first is that we aren’t measuring the films by any universal criteria.  We give these films a pass on some of the acting, writing, and production values based on when it was made as opposed to ranking it alongside any contemporary work.  This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and these two films for better or worse helped define nearly all of Hollywood for the past century.  The other more practical problem is that modern audiences have no idea what life in 1915-1916 was like.  We’ve read history books, seen old movies, but do any of us really know the cultural zeitgeist of a century ago?  This leads to many modern audiences, myself included, projecting what they felt was normal or contemporary for the period.

So naturally we’re facing a certain dilemma, do we simply laugh at the over dramatic acting, and dismiss this as some historical relic good for a chuckle; or do we measure the films based on what was happening at the time and measure them against their peers?  Film is a medium that has continually evolved as new technology has developed.  It’s easy to discuss the artistic merits of paintings that are separated by a century or more, because paint + canvas = art hasn’t really changed that much.  Sure different styles and movements have come and gone in painting, but the tools have remained the same.  Music to a lesser extent can fall under the same category.  Classical music in particular can be compared across any era, because the instruments and basic music theory hasn’t changed much since the baroque period. 

Literature offers perhaps the closest parallel to cinema.  The structure of the novel is still very much the same as it’s always been, but so many other things have changed.  So many classic novels have entire plots based on obsolete or downright silly dated axioms.  This doesn’t stop these books from being great, but it certainly makes them dated and we have to trust in the writer to transport us to that world.  This is why books like Pride and Prejudice or Sister Carrie remain classics despite being nearly completely implausible in a contemporary setting.

I realize I’ve gotten ludicrously off base and I know what you want to talk about, racism.  It’s the elephant in the room with Birth of a Nation, the one thing that the film has been associated with throughout the last century.  This aspect makes that historical perspective tough to figure.  This was made in 1915, nearly 50 years before the Civil Rights Act was passed, so it’s easy to just shrug your shoulder and say people were just a hell of a lot more racist back then.  That doesn’t exactly let Mr. Griffith off the hook to just point and say everyone was a little racist back then.  So allow me to try and wrap my brain around the most troubling aspect of either of these films.

Now the film essentially breaks itself into two parts.  There’s the war, and the Reconstruction.  These can be separated by Lincoln’s assassination.  Griffith makes a strong point in this film to point out how much he loves Lincoln, and believes he could have prevented all the degradation and exploitation of the Reconstruction.  So it isn’t entirely accurate to label him a racist right off the bat.  Not all of the blacks in this film are portrayed as buffoons.  A few comically offensive ones certainly overshadow the more humane examples.  These things didn’t go unnoticed at the time, as many protests were centered around the film and the NAACP urged a boycott and outright banning of the film.

What’s interesting to note narratively is that Ben Cameron (Henry B. Walthall) who is shown to be the founder of the KKK, was pardoned by Abraham Lincoln.  It is meant to show the compassion and forgiveness on Lincoln’s part to the rebel Confederates, but it also unfortunately implies that had it not been for that presidential pardon the Klan might not have been formed.  I don’t think Griffith or original author Thomas Dixon Jr. were implying that Lincoln was in some way responsible for the group, but it is an interesting by-product.

I'm fascinated to know end with the amount of information we are given.  The Civil War itself is remarkably simplified.  Trying to condense the bloodiest conflict in American history into a one hour subplot will naturally involve leaving out a few details.  However the film moves along in a way that respects the audience's intelligence.  We’re supposed to know certain things, and Griffith assumes we have some basic understanding of the principles involved.  That’s why the Northern Stoneman’s and Southern Cameron’s are meant to represent two sides of the same coin.  They’re united as Americans but divided by geography.  It’s Griffith’s and Dixon’s belief that we are all one nation, hence the title of the film, and that essentially wealthy white people are one and the same everywhere.

That feeling when you can't look a white man in the blackface

Where Dixon in particular shows his Confederate pride is in his depiction of Austin Stoneman (Ralph Lewis), based loosely on Thaddeus Stevens.  Stoneman isn’t necessarily wrong in his beliefs but certainly in his execution.  He is a staunch abolitionist and that’s something that isn’t exactly being contested here, but his plan for the Reconstruction is to punish the South, contrary to Lincoln’s plan.  As a patriarch in the beginning of the film during their visit to the Cameron’s in South Carolina, he is depicted as a pretty level headed leader.  His family is well brought up, and he is extremely progressive employing a “mulatto” named Silas Lynch (played by the very white George Siegmann).  Afterwards you can almost feel the Yankee loathing in Dixon, who made Stoneman a figurehead for every carpetbagger that came to exploit the South, and in particular the newly enfranchised freed slaves.

Again where this film gets troublesome is that the tactics used to give blacks the vote and suppress the former slave owning whites from elections are exactly what happened for the next century on the other side.  In fact when “order” is restored near the end of the film, all the freed slaves go back to being terrified of white men and want nothing to do with voting and holding office.  The scene of the black representatives is one that constantly gets cited among the films greatest sins.  You can view it as a sort of a caricature, everything in silent films had to be somewhat exaggerated and blown out of proportion to translate on the screen, so the unruliness of these newly elected members does reflect that.  By today’s cinematic standards it’s hard to watch without cringing at a few moments.  Members are barefoot, taking shots of whiskey, and all other manner of unruliness.  Rather than showing the utter chaos and confusion of the Reconstruction, it comes across as showing newly freed slaves as uncivilized baboons that have no business in government or decent society.  The black legislature even has the audacity to legalize interracial marriages, which is of course depicted as an atrocity here.

Nothing offensive about that at all

Now rather than spend this entire time talking about racism I’d like to point out something about the acting style in the film.  It was common in many Griffith films, but you can certainly notice here that no characters ever make eye contact.  They always turn their heads towards the camera or away from each other, looking straight ahead as if they are projecting for an audience.  Now this was a play before a film, so it’s possible Griffith just went with that style, but it makes the performances feel unnatural, even if it’s not immediately perceivable.  Naturalistic acting wasn’t a particular style in silent film, but watch just how many people fail to make eye contact when speaking here, it’s staggering.

Behold eye contact in all it's glory

Now back to mixed race marriages because although it is the type of fundamental human right we have lately taken for granted, it’s depiction here is important to note.  Gus, the black soldier who was played by the really white Walter Long, spots Flora Cameron and over-zealously mentions his intention to marry her.  In a modern film this might be met with some confusion, earlier he is seen spotting her and somewhat leering at Flora, but alone in the woods it’s depicted as downright terrifying.  Flora becomes arguably the most irrational character in a movie filled with them.  Rather than tell Gus no, and playing up her ladylike superiority, she immediately runs and flees.  As Gus tries to explain himself and make something of a compelling case for himself as a suitable husband, Flora warns him that she’ll jump off a cliff if he comes closer.  This is baffling behavior and makes you wonder just how damn racist people were that a woman would rather commit suicide than let a black man come close to her.  We’re meant to assume that Gus is depraved and Flora assumes he’s going to rape her, but Gus is just scared and frankly a little confused at the object of his affection acting psychotic.

Pictured, the reaction to a black man wanting to talk to you

When Flora jumps off the cliff it’s as good as Gus killing her.  The frightening thing is that Dixon, and possibly Griffith meant to show Ben and his Klansmen lynching Gus as a sign of vigilante justice.  I wonder however if it is that simple.  Watching the film several times, Gus seems a bit clumsy but his only crime is asking a white woman to marry him.  Silas Lynch is much more deliberately criminal, which I’d like to think is the white half of his upbringing.  I have to laugh at the hypocrisy that they expose in the film regarding Austin Stoneman.  When Lynch tells his boss and mentor that he plans on marrying a white woman, Stoneman congratulates him until he finds out that the white woman is his daughter Elsie (Lillian Gish).  He flips out, attacks Lynch and the idea is that racial integration is great until it’s your own family.  It is a bit disappointing reaction for Stoneman, who previously had Elsie break off her engagement with Ben for his KKK connection.  The man he supported and forced down South Carolina’s throats as the Lt. Governor isn’t good enough for his own daughter. 

Pictured: White Justice

Not long after this comes the film's most cringe worthy title card “The former enemies of North and South are united again in defense of their Aryan birthright.”  This is when the black militia are surrounding the cabin where the elder Cameron and his faithful servants are held up with two former Union soldiers.  According to Dixon, our mutual distrust and hatred of minorities has bridged the gap between the Union and Confederacy.  What more could you expect from a film where the heroes are the KKK?  It is deeply disturbing to see the KKK keeping black people from ballot boxes at the end as a sort of victory.  This is the type of shit that took a century to clean up in the deep South, where institutionalized racism still persists.  There is such a naiveté to this film, like Griffith wanted to show how progressive he was, but simultaneously had no idea what that meant.  This points to a larger problem in society, where racist people don't seem to be aware that they are racist.

The fucked up and disturbing aspects of this film's final act notwithstanding this is still a monumental work in the history of cinema.  It’s legacy is well documented.  Raoul Walsh who played John Wilkes Booth would later spend the next half century as one of Hollywood’s most prolific directors.  Lillian Gish appeared in films up until the late 80s.  John Ford was said to have been an un-credited Klansman in this film, who went on to win four best director Oscars.  It’s not hard to get six degrees of separation to anyone in Hollywood history from this film and it’s cast/crew.  Griffith himself claimed to have invented nearly every film technique there was, but like Edison and his similar inventing claims most have historically been refuted.  There is no doubt that the success of the film helped spread a ton of Griffith’s devices to other filmmakers who were influenced by this.  Including tinting, irises, night photography, and wide panoramic shots.

 Perhaps no filmmaker was better influenced than Griffith by the film.  His masterpiece Intolerance was a direct response to this, and it helps right many of the wrongs in the second half of this film.  Broken Blossoms made in 1919 is arguably the first sympathetic interracial relationship in cinema, albeit white and Chinese, and of course the Chinese man was played by a white, but I digress.  Griffith eventually went bankrupt trying to top this film, and after making two talking films, one about Abraham Lincoln, he was essentially blacklisted.  It’s standing as the top grossing film of all time stood until Gone With the Wind came out in 1939. 

There is no doubt of it’s historical significance.  The cultural impact was immediate, and no matter the exaggerations and inaccuracies of some of the historical elements it’s impact on the evolution of film was unparalleled.  The question though remains whether it’s a great or even good film on it’s own.  Separate the film from it’s context and influence and is it worth watching?  Despite some pacing issues, the first half is incredible to behold.  The scale and scope is still impressive today, but the second half poses numerous problems.  The politics and the obvious blackface is hard to sit through, but despite how wrong the climax might be, Griffith was the all time master at inter-cutting and filming a last second rescue.  It was his stock and trade, and something he perfected from his early Biograph days, and by 1915 it was as ubiquitous to one of his films as an Alfred Hitchcock cameo in one of his. 

Due to the extraordinary execution, it’s hard not to get swept up in the finale as you wait for the Cameron patriarch to be rescued, and then you stop yourself and realize you’ve just been rooting for the Klan to save the day.  Before you condemn yourself as a racist monster, you might have slight epiphany about the power of cinema and what it can do in the right (or wrong) hands.  It is hard for a modern audience to like the film on it’s own merit, it doesn’t have the more broad and sweeping appeal of Intolerance but there is still some greatness to be found there.  So do your homework and watch it already.