1929 poll 2.0

[niminy-piminy]

unfortunately, i watched this film too long ago to be able to spit my venom in detail.
and i (honestly) already forgot the heroine's name was Sally (otherwise, i would certainly think twice before using the phrase "despicable characters").
but i remember i was disgusted by the reckless behavior of the heroine who rejected her honest suitor in favor of some random asshole who displayed zero genuine affection to her.
and the stupid hero, instead of responding to this reckless rejection by burning the bridges and becoming completely indifferent to the heroine, started deliriously obsessing about her.
i must admit i might be prone to follow the same behavior pattern as the imbecile hero of this film and thus i convinced myself "i can't stand this movie" to protect myself from acting in real life in a similar way like the hero of this DESPICABLE film.

[niminy-piminy]

i believe all the sensible cinephiles must empathize with the hopeless stupidity of the hero in this scene (viz pic below) who is observing in cinema his object of longing with some other (completely random) idiot while both of them (the bondless/incompatible "lovers") are watching & enjoying together some imbecile flick — and still not being able to forget about the heroine and instead obsessing about her even more. TERRIBLE STORY!!! DESPICABLE FILM!!!

[St. Gloede]

i watched "the living corpse", loved it! what great shots of bells and seats + seated ppl. i will add it to my list

<3 <3 <3

Fyodor Otsep is one of the most visually intruiging and creative directors of the silent and early sound era, and was also a journeyman director making films all across the world. His later films, done in Canada and the US still look breathtaking, but the edge is off. His films from this period are incredible though, and if you loved The Living Corse I strongly recommend watching Mirages de Paris (1933). I assume you have already seen Amok (1934)? I did not love it as much, but it is the one everyone seem to go crazy over. Der Mörder Dimitri Karamasoff, which he did with Erich Engels (worth a look in his own right) is also great.

[niminy-piminy]

btw. i had this sinister picture (above) at hand because i added it to the film's entry on kinometer (as you can see in "contributions log" highlighted by arrow & ellipse & magnification in the still below). this screencap serves to me as a memento and reminder not to follow the obsessive course of action of this poor cinematic hero who is not going to the cinema to watch a film (together with his soul mate) but to witness his courtship failure and the absurdity of female sexual/romantic preferences.

https://www.kinometer.com/?id=18280

[greennui]

Been a while since I saw Cottage but I don't remember Sally doing anything wrong? She was just trying to be kind.

[niminy-piminy]

the Cottage narrative is already somewhat blurred within my memory but as far as i remember Sally was courted by a hero (Joe) who felt "genuine" affection (or how to call this "honest" delirium) for her but she recklessly picked instead some random asshole who had no genuine feelings for her, neither she had any genuine feelings for him (she picked him partly out of boredom and partly to piss off the (rejected) suitor — i don't think Sally was obliged to pick the obsessing Joe just because his feelings for her were "genuine", but knowing there is a guy with such feelings and to pick instead another one who was obviously rather indifferent was predominantly a mean action). and only ultimately she developed a certain affection for the rejected suitor because she pitied his hopeless obsession (which is actually another punch — being ultimately "loved" out of pity). it is a sinister story!

[niminy-piminy]

tho, the scene in the cinema is truly great (that scene i genuinely love).

When she agrees to go see a "talkie" with a certain male customer, Joe turns stalker as he sneaks into the theater, secretly plants himself in the row behind them, and in an amazingly photographed scene shot using rapid-paced editing, we never see the film they are watching - instead the camera cuts between audience members plus Sally reacting as they watch the film, the orchestra playing, and Joe - who is not watching the film at all, but rather he's glaring in a steady gaze at Sally and her "date" in front of him.

[Lencho of the Apes]

I have to finish it tomorrow, but Linda (Dorothy Davenport, USA) looks like it's going on my list -- I always assumed Davenport was a one-trick pony who shot her wad (mixed metaphor) with a movie or two about her husband's drug habit and OD, but the yellow journalism angle was just the beginning of her career; she was a real filmmaker. I like this version of rural USA pov so much more than Griffith's, or even Borzage's Lucky Star foolishness. And there's a lot of sisterhood. It's 1929, though, so women crushed into wretched, raggy worn-out victims because patriarchy.

Other standouts: Piccadilly was great, The Manxman was unexpectedly lyrical for Hitch, looks like peak Asquith. Flight by Capra was not great, but it had a really! awkward! homosocial bonding sequence that tickled me so much it left a lasting impression. Two Marines get their wrassle on, A gives B a spanking and B throws his legs into the air. Pure filth, to appropriate a phrase.

[rischka]

thx for the update. why is dorothy davenport billed as 'mrs wallace reid' on posters how dreadful for her. i really need to check her out

'a mrs wallace reid production' he was long dead by then, she was using it for name recognition?

yay it's on youtube

[greennui]

it is a sinister story!

This feels close to my reading of it all.

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY…

Ask an American to name a British silent feature film and, without skipping a beat, they will probably say The Lodger. Ask them to name a second title—no Hitchcock this time— and they will take a bit longer before recalling something called A Constant Nymph. Ask for a third title and, nine times out of ten, you will have stumped them.

First of all, you have got to stop interrogating your friends with obscure pop quizzes. It’s weird. But second, you have probably realized that British silent features are not terribly well-known. Slowly but surely, that is starting to change. Mr. Hitchcock is no longer the only game in town.

A Cottage on Dartmoor was one of the very last silent films to be produced by a British concern. Like the rest of the world, sound was taking over the British film industry but the silents had one last burst of greatness before the end came. Directed by Anthony Asquith (of The Importance of Being Earnest and Pygmalion fame), the film has been building quite the reputation of late as a very fine suspense film with style to burn.

So, is A Cottage on Dartmoor a forgotten treasure or are modern critics barking up the wrong tree? (Or am I using mixed metaphors?) Let’s dive in.

Ah, moors! What would we do without you? The Bronte sisters would be sunk, that’s for sure. Moors were made for the movies. Moody, broody, barren and harshly beautiful, they just scream that something gothic, gloomy or dangerous is about to occur.

In this case, the latter. A prisoner (Uno Henning) has escaped from Dartmoor Prison and he is racing across the wild landscape toward a lone cottage. Inside, a young mother (Norah Baring) is putting her baby to bed. She goes downstairs to fetch her work basket but senses that she is not alone. She turns and sees the prisoner standing in the shadows. Seven minutes into the movie, we get our first dialogue card and the film jumps into a flashback.

The escaped prisoner is Joe, a barber who works at a swank tonsorial parlor in the city. The young mother is Sally, a popular manicurist who spiffs up customer’s nails while Joe clips and shaves. It is clear from the beginning that something is very wrong. Sally enjoys friendly banter with her customers but Joe glowers at her every smile. He does his best to keep the men away from her, using his barbering work as an excuse.

Most clients enjoy flirting with Sally but it ends there. That day, though, a new client comes into the shop. He is Harry (Hans Adalbert Schlettow), a prosperous farmer with more than a few rough edges. He may not have fine city ways and his nails are appalling but Sally sees that there is a genuinely sweet man under the hayseed exterior. Harry, for his part, is utterly charmed by Sally and is soon finding every excuse he can to get a manicure.

Joe is, of course, seething at his new rival. Sally sees how lonely he looks, feels sorry for him and finally agrees to go out with him. However, the date is a disaster. Joe is just too possessive and intense. Sally finally manages to get rid of him and resolves to never make the same mistake again.

The next morning, Joe sends Sally flowers with a card asking her to wear one and give him hope. The card gets lost in delivery and Sally innocently wears one of the flowers to work. Harry is there, waiting for his manicure. Joe believes that one date and one flower on the lapel mean that Sally is his. He watches with growing rage as Sally and Harry continue their courtship.

(If you think it unlikely that the young and lovely Norah Baring would fall for the older, stolid Schlettow, you should check out Mantrap. There, Clara Bow’s flapper manicurist falls head over heels for… Ernest Torrence?)

Stalking ensues but what finally pushes Joe over the edge is seeing Sally’s new engagement ring. This is especially bad timing as Harry is in Joe’s chair getting a shave. Joe’s sanity has frayed to the breaking and he strikes. Harry is injured but not dead. Sally screams that Joe is a murderer. Joe vows to come back and finish the job—on both Harry and Sally.

And we return to the present. Now we know what the escaped convict is doing in Sally’s house. What comes next? You’re just going to have to watch the movie and see.

Before I get to the analysis proper, let me clear up a little misconception about this film.

Some plot synopses of this film state that Sally was Joe’s girlfriend at the beginning of the story. That is not so. Sally rejects his overtures and makes it clear that she sees Joe as nothing more than a friendly co-worker. His possessiveness and sense of entitlement make Joe a classic sufferer of Nice Guy™ Syndrome. (“I was nice to you! You owe me love!”) His bizarre fixation on communicating with Sally through archaic means (language of flowers!) further convinces me that the shoe fits.

Later, against her better judgment, Sally feels sorry for Joe, relents and agrees to go out with him. Once they are alone, his strange behavior flares up and she clearly is afraid of him. Trying to be nice, Sally begins to play the piano to keep him at a distance but he fixates on the title of some sheet music. My Woman. He starts to make his move. His creepy, creepy move. The entrance of a hard-of-hearing pensioner saves Sally from further unpleasantness.

One mercy date does not a girlfriend make. This scenario is incredibly realistic, by the way. Social norms, frankly, encourage women to enter dangerous situations. “Let him down easy. He’s so sad. Give him a chance. So what if he seems to be barking mad!” All while her sixth sense is screaming that peril awaits. If you don’t understand any of this, read The Gift of Fear. If you are nodding sagely, read The Gift of Fear. (If you are a guy, just know it is the one book pretty much every girl receives when she comes of age. At least all my friends did. Maybe we come from paranoid families. Thank goodness.)

I would be interested to learn the reasons why the writers of these synopses believe that Sally was ever Joe’s girlfriend. It would be a fascinating study in psychology and perceptions of gender roles. Perhaps they sympathize with Joe a little too much. Or maybe they just didn’t bother to actually watch the movie. Because, you know, old. Silent. Blech. (If you think everything could have been avoided if Sally had just been nicer to Joe, go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.)

To say that A Cottage on Dartmoor is flashy is the understatement of the century. Asquith basically put every silent cinema visual device in a big bag, shook it and then tossed it onto the screen. Fancy compositions, a mobile camera, double exposures, visual glimpses into the character’s thoughts, rapid cuts, flashes, twirls… Every bell and whistle you can imagine and more besides. You see, Asquith was a devotee of the silents. He was sad to see them go. It is one of the few films made during the sound transition that mourns the loss of silence so overtly.

The characters of A Cottage on Dartmoor are aware of this. They laugh uproariously at a Harold Lloyd silent short but then fall into enraptured silence as the talkie feature plays. The scene is ambiguous. Talkies entertain but what has been lost?

That’s not to say the film is flawless. Asquith overplays his hand at certain points. I, for one, could have done with less of Uno Henning leaping into the frame during the opening chase across the moors. Once was a jolt. Twice spoils the effect by drawing attention to its mechanics. The same with his flashy tricks with mirrors. Once or twice is clever. Repetition makes the effect too precious by half. And then the film has Harry go to the theater and sit in seat 13. Get it? Get it?

Of course, Asquith was still very young, both in years and in motion picture experience. He was all of twenty-six when he directed this picture. The gaudiness is born of youthful excitement, not aged pomposity. Asquith is clearly having a gleeful time playing with his new toy, silent cinema. In any case, the vast majority of his tricks work very well. Subtle they ain’t but their brashness has charm. I particularly admired his close-ups of the performer’s expressive hands, all of which furthered the story and gave insight into the psychology of the characters. Reminded me of Victor Seastrom.

All the style in the world would be of no use if the cast was unworthy. The astute Asquith had to have been aware that the age of the international cast was almost over. Nowadays, if performers from assorted nations wish to act together, they need a script that accounts for their different accents. In the silent era, actors from all over the world came together and could play—anything they darn well pleased! Asquith assembled an English leading lady, a Swedish leading man and a German second lead. Such casting would not have been possible even a few months later (unless the film went the dubbing route, which sometimes worked but usually didn’t).

Uno Henning gets most of the attention and rightly so. He is the central figure in the story and his breakdown must be believable in order for the rest of the film to work.

Joe needed to be played by forceful actor and everyone knows the best place to find a dark brooder is Sweden. They grow them intense in that neck of the woods! Uno Henning could not have been more perfect for the role. He manages to both repel the audience and intrigue us. We pity him even if we do not sympathize with him. His shift from worst-date-ever to homicidal maniac to repentant escapee is a fascinating study in the power of silent screen acting.

Henning plays Joe as a man who, on the surface, has a calm and almost prim demeanor. Quickly, though, we see that the composed surface is held in place by the very thinnest veneer. Dark thoughts, hatred and murderous violence are churning beneath, peeking out here and there and finally bursting free with a terrifying shatter. I cannot emphasize enough how utterly perfect Henning is in this role. Here is a man whose sanity is held together by a few threads and we are watching them snap, one by one. (Asquith does actually show a breaking thread at one point. I am on the fence about it.) Mr. Henning, you have my deepest respect.

(Spoiler alert for this paragraph) I particularly was impressed with the scene where Joe decides to allow himself to be shot. He holds a blazer, which was meant to be used to disguise him during his escape, and the jacket of his prison uniform. As he looks at a picture of Sally, he drops the blazer, rejecting escape. Then, he drops the jacket, rejecting surrender. It’s clear that he means to create a third option. He sees a guard in the distance and focuses on the rifle he is holding. He smiles. The interplay between Asquith’s direction and Henning’s performance is marvelous. Without a single title card, we know exactly what is happening in Joe’s head. And, selfish to the end, Joe makes sure he dies in Sally’s arms. Because giving your beloved PTSD is what true affection is all about!

I also quite liked Norah Baring as Sally. She is a pleasant, gentle young lady who finds herself trapped in a bizarre nightmare. Would being meaner to Joe have prevented the sad events? Perhaps but it may also have set him off all the sooner. She is stuck in a no-win situation that remains all too real today. Baring does a wonderful job of conveying her characters emotions for the first two acts. It’s just a pity that the script calls for her to forgive Joe later in the tale. Um, why?

Hans Adalbert Schlettow plays Harry, the unsophisticated farmer who wins Sally’s heart. Schlettow does well, though his role is not as meaty as those of his co-stars. Basically, he just has to come off as a nice guy, the genuine article this time. His wooing is eager but not pushy and he never behaves in a way that makes Sally uncomfortable. I do think that some viewers may offer sympathy to Joe simply because Uno Henning is the more handsome of the two men but close viewing will soon remove any doubt as to who the real nice guy is.

Like his fellow German star Harry Liedtke, Schlettow stayed in Germany during and after the rise of the Third Reich. Both men were casualties of the Second World War. Material on Schlettow is scarce but the German edition of Wikipedia (take that source as you will) describes him as passionately pro-Nazi, an anti-Semite and an informer.

Generally, the simple story chugs away to the tragic ending, though it also has a few holes. For one thing, it relies a little too heavily on Joe having a case of the dropsies. He drops his movie tickets, which forces Sally to invite him to her boarding house. Then, he drops the note from his bouquet, the one that requests that Sally wear one of the flowers to give him hope.

As mentioned before, while the story during the flashback is on firm psychological ground, the present plot goes a bit wonky if you think about it too much.

Joe grabs Sally but before he can carry out his threat, the prison guards knock on the door. He collapses, realizing that he is going back to prison. Instead of calling for the guards, though, Sally opens the door to her baby’s nursery and has Joe hide in there.

No. Just, no. This guy was trying to kill her a second before and now she is leaving him alone with her child? What is this? It’s not one of those “she felt regret for the pain her beauty caused” plot twists, is it? Please tell me it isn’t. I hate those.

In spite of these flaws, though, anyone watching A Cottage on Dartmoor is in for a real treat. The film moves quickly, there is always something interesting to see and Uno Henning is a wonder to behold as the disturbed Joe.

It is also a splendid example of late British silent film. The British film industry had a hard time recovering from the First World War. The French industry received a shot in the arm from the arrival of talented Russians fleeing their country’s revolution. Germany’s post-war woes spurred it to make bigger, better and more unique films and the anything-goes world of the Weimar Republic was a playground for a new crop of directors. The British studios? They were a bit slower to jump back in the game but some of their silent era offerings still have the power to wow.

I know there are a few conspiracy theories floating around about how the British industry was nobbled by, from what I gather, some kind of international conspiracy. Please. The British film industry took a little longer to recover from the war but when it did get its magic back, it more than made up for lost time. Instead of inventing conspiracies, it’s much more constructive to draw attention to the wonderful movies that Britain did make during the silent era.

No industry could ask for a better ambassador than A Cottage on Dartmoor. It’s stylish, well-acted and completely intriguing. I’m not asking you to break up with Hitchcock. Just maybe add some variety to your movie collection.

https://moviessilently.com/2014/08/03/a ... lm-review/

[greennui]

thx for the update. why is dorothy davenport billed as 'mrs wallace reid' on posters how dreadful for her. i really need to check her out

'a mrs wallace reid production' he was long dead by then, she was using it for name recognition?

yay it's on youtube

Yeah, it seems like she used it for marketing and her first films were about drug addiction and whatnot.

[niminy-piminy]

i tend to perceive flirtatious heroine from "A Cottage on Dartmoor" as a feminine counterpart to flirtatious hero from "The Song of the Scarlet Flower" (Teuvo Tulio, 1938).
in "The Song of the Scarlet Flower", Olavi is a flirtatious womanizer who in the course of his seductive games stumbles upon a girl who takes his deceiving flirts a bit too seriously and ultimately doesn't become an obsessive/stalking freak (like Joe) but (for a change) commits suicide.
it brings a cathartic effect on Olavi who realizes he can't mess up with other people's feelings, honestly seeks his true love and a happy end unfolds.
tho, after reading the review (and recalling some details more vividly — f.e. misinterpreted flower signal) i must admit i am probably a bit unfair to Sally (calling her she-Olavi).
she was maybe not actively contributing to the deranged response of Joe who was maybe full-fledged wacko right from the start and she might have her good (materialist) reasons to pick Harry, while Harry was maybe not a completely absent-minded instrument of Sally's vile scheme to push the delirious Joe over the edge but maybe had some warm (materialist) feelings to Sally too.
i would need to rewatch the film to reassess Sally's and Harry's motivations and deeds.
in any case, Sally's ultimate display of "affection" to deranged Joe was meta-humiliating.
she was able to resist showing false affection to deranged Joe at the start (not to give him false hopes) but ultimately became "affectionate" to him because she pitied his derangement (and maybe felt some guilt) and thus ultimately reinforced his grand delusion by making him believe his tireless stalking efforts bear the fruits of love.
anyway, it was a sick melodrama (and maybe not such a bad movie after all).

[rischka]

thx for the update. why is dorothy davenport billed as 'mrs wallace reid' on posters how dreadful for her. i really need to check her out

'a mrs wallace reid production' he was long dead by then, she was using it for name recognition?

yay it's on youtube

i'll still take borzage's fairytale foolishness but this was excellent melodrama. linda was a lil too saintly perhaps. noah beery was the brother of wallace beery i'm guessing. thx again lencho, i'll have to check more of her work. this is why i love this website ok one of the reasons

[rischka]

and thx for these shorts too evelyn! a treasure

[Lencho of the Apes]

fairytale foolishness

You know I love me some Borzage...

[...]

Flight by Capra was not great, but it had a really! awkward! homosocial bonding sequence that tickled me so much it left a lasting impression

Well, I'm glad someone else finally got around to watching it, but homosocial bonding? Flight is totally gay, with surface text so flimsy it barely pretends to obscure the blatant subtext. I mean, the main character is nicknamed "Lefty" and mocked for running the "wrong way" in the big game. He's despondent and hides out in the men's room to escape the ridicule, where he is propositioned by a Marine named Panama, the person and the canal, to look him up if Lefty is ever near the base. Lefty of course follows Panama and joins the marines. When boot camp starts he makes a big deal to one of the other recruits about knowing Panama, saying something to the effect of "wait til he gets a load of me." as the camera has him gleaming with excitement looking at Panama. Panama doesn't appear to remember him, which leaves Lefty crestfallen and causes the other recruit to mock Lefty by saying something like, "Yeah, he's sure nuts about you." That's all in the first ten minutes and ignores so many other little bits that makes the movie so enjoyable to watch, in my book, for how flamboyantly they flout the straight dynamic. The spanking scene just provides the icing on the cake, um, so to speak. (Well, the end scene where Lefty finally has to take the cockpit and Panama yanks out his stick to show his faith in Lefty is pretty good too.)

Oh, and if anyone wants to be a stickler for "intent" Ralph Graves who wrote and starred in it was bisexual or gay and had some history with this sort of ridicule, though about a different film made with Dorothy Azner about a bowery bum adopting a baby:

When asked his opinion of it, Hughes' uncle, novelist and film director Rupert Hughes, said, "It's nothing. No plot. No build up. No character development. The acting stinks. Destroy the film. If anybody sees it, you and that homo Graves will be the laughing stock of Hollywood."[citation needed] Hughes took his uncle's advice and ordered the screening room projectionist to burn the sole copy. Graves later claimed he and Hughes had engaged in a sexual relationship while collaborating on Swell Hogan

(Hope that didn't come off as harsh, I just have a fondness for Flight and feel obligated to stand up for it since it gets so little attention and deserves at least a place in queer film history.)

[rischka]

fairytale foolishness

You know I love me some Borzage...

oh i do know now i wanna watch flight...

[sally]

jeez i wish you could have all stood up for it like a week ago, it's getting pretty tight now unless thoxans is still taking it easy

[Evelyn Library P.I.]

I don't have as much time to watch movies anymore, and I didn't get to nearly what I wanted to for this year. Filing it away in memory to return to '29 next time the year poll isn't a year I'm interested in, so that I can feel I've given it its due. For now, here's 20 preferred titles in four tiers of five:

Autumn Mists (Dimitri Kirsanoff)
The Love Parade (Ernst Lubitsch)
Liberty (Leo McCarey)
Ethnographic Films (Zora Neale Hurston)
Black and Tan (Dudley Murphy)

The Hole in the Wall (Robert Florey)
A Straightforward Boy (Yasujirō Ozu)
Disque 957 (Germaine Dulac)
Desert Nights (William Nigh)
Taro’s Toy Train (Yasuji Murata)

Mount Fuji: The Movement of Clouds (Masanao Abe)
A Pair of Tights (Hal Yates)
Seven Keys to Baldpate (Reginald Barker)
Border Romance (Richard Thorpe)
Hell’s Heroes (William Wyler)

The Flying Scotsman (Castleton Knight)
Sound Test for Blackmail (Alfred Hitchcock)
Bouncing Babies (Robert F. McGowan)
Big News (Gregory La Cava)
Going Ga-Ga (Hal Yates)

[Angel]

I remember Flight as a well-directed but poorly written film and Dirigible, only two years later, as a more successful achievement. However it was included by Peter Bogdanovich in his short-lived series The Golden Age of American Talkies: The Love Parade (Ernst Lubitsch), Hallelujah! (King Vidor), Applause (Rouben Mamoulian), Blackmail (Alfred Hitchcock), Thunderbolt (Josef von Sternberg), Salute (John Ford), Flight (Frank Capra), They Had to See Paris (Frank Borzage) and Dynamite (Cecil B. DeMille).
Just to add my two cents: The hidden (talkie) gem of the year is The Locked Door.

[sally]

blocking all you last minute recommend lunatics (and not wading into dartmoor cuz ptsd flashback of the time some crazy told me i had to be his girlfriend cuz he was dying and locked me in a room and this was before mobile phones so had to yell out the window for someone to go get the police to get me out, embarrassing)

but....1929 seems to be a big year for napoleon??? if we count context and the shadow of his hat in monte cristo, he also crops up in devil-may-care (it has songs, shudder) napoleon auf st helena (written by gance but great choice to get lupu pick, him of the claustrophobic chamber kammerspielfilm to direct the emperor's waning days, and werner krauss is iconic (i mean no one can be dieudonne ♥) as fat grumpy drab defeated napoleon - altho who knows how good the film actually is, quality of available print is awful & i suspect it's been quite mucked around with) and then there's grune's waterloo, with charles vanel in the role which i haven't watched yet because i can only take so many dreadful prints at once

[Searchlike]

I don't have as much time to watch movies anymore, and I didn't get to nearly what I wanted to for this year.

I was going to suggest sticking with short films for a while, but you seem to be doing that already.

While I'd like to throw the I've been busy card myself, truth is I've had time, I just haven't spent it watching films, not even tiny, little ones, but I may still be able to contribute a Top 10 last minute.

Worth repeating, thank you everyone who has been recommending short films, you all belong in movie heaven, unless you like Hallmark Xmas films for some reason in which case I don't think you can save your soul, sorry.

[Lencho of the Apes]

mocked for running

I assumed that bit was riffing on the notoriety of aviator Wrong Way Corrigan... but I see now that Corrigan's comical exploit didn't happen until 1938.

[Lencho of the Apes]

mocked for running

I assumed that bit was riffing on the notoriety of aviator Wrong Way Corrigan... but I see now that Corrigan's comical exploit didn't happen until 1938. Reading the whole movie as gay didn't occur to me. Now The General Line? That's the gayest of he gay. Old Sergei really needed that vacation.

[...]

Now The General Line? That's the gayest of he gay. Old Sergei really needed that vacation.

Heh. Yeah, I'm sure I've probably mentioned it before, but trying to get any read on that movie of "intent" is not happening. I want to believe that it's all hyperbolic exaggeration intended to draw attention to the unreality of the Soviet claims on collectivism in the face of some of its major failings, but the aspect of the "futuristic" technology being the savior of the people, providing endless sources of food, leisure, and sexual release is also a lot of fun to take at least semi-seriously, as Soviet films about farm technology are in a lot of ways truer science fiction than almost anything Hollywood ever put out.

[ofrene]

final with 4 tiers

Autumn Mists
A Cottage on Dartmoor
Finis Terrae
Man with a Movie Camera
Un Chien Andalou

Blackmail
Mother Krause’s Journey to Happiness
Rain
The General Line
The Pearl

Eternal Love
Lucky Star
Pandora’s Box
White Hell of Pitz Palu
Woman in the Moon

Arabesque
Arsenal
Peach Skin
The Love Parade
The New Babylon

[lineuphere]

Final:

Fragment of an Empire (Ermler)
The Love Parade (Lubitsch)
The New Babylon (Kozintsev, Trauberg)
The White Hell of Pitz Palu (Pabst, Fanck)

Lucky Star (Borzage)
Laila (Schnéevoigt)
The Man With a Movie Camera (Vertov)
A Cottage on Dartmoor (Asquith)

Diary of a Lost Girl (Pabst)
Pandora's Box (Pabst)
The Letter (de Limur)
The Shakedown (Wyler)

Turksib (Turin)
The Lighthouse Keepers (Grémillon)
Mother Krause's Journey to Happiness (Jutzi)
Harbor Drift (Mittler)

Asphalt (May)
The General Line (Aleksandrov, Eisenstein)
Black and Tan (Murphy)
The Informer (Robison)

[Lencho of the Apes]

hyperbolic exaggeration intended to draw attention to the unreality of the Soviet claims on collectivism

I lean toward that reading myself, but there's so much happening from one moment to the next that it'd be impossible to think coherently about it without taking extensive notes during several viewings. Really, I guess the gayness of it was limited to the two "collectivism will make you fabulous" sequences -- the one with the tractor driver strutting his stuff Clark Gable/runway style, showing off the elegance of his tailoring and his good taste in accessories, and the haut-glam (complete with chic cloche) makeover that the toothy woman gets right at the end.

[sally]

'flaming canyons' for everyone stuck in the heat

[sally]

final list

the lighthouse keepers
fräulein else
the way of lost souls
finis terrae
a cottage on dartmoor
arsenal
erotikon
in spring
mount fuji - the movement of clouds
the white hell of pitz palu
the wonderful lies of nina petrovna
captain fracasse
sprengbagger 1010
triumph of the heart
sangue mineiro
the informer
the new babylon
la femme et le pantin
la merveilleuse vie de jeanne d'arc
brüder