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CinemaRian Blog

  • Hamlet (1948, Great Britain, Sir Laurence Olivier) ***

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    Hamlet  (1948)

    Sir Laurence Olivier's Hamlet is a brilliant, difficult, and to a degree, unreasonably dark movie. It's hard to deny that the picture works, but by the end, you wonder if the journey was really worth taking, as this must be one of the most effectively gloomy films ever committed to celluloid.

    It's impossible to watch Olivier's film and not compare it to the numerous other screen adaptations of Shakespeare's most famous play, most notably the 1996 masterpiece by Kenneth Branagh. Branagh is not a better actor than Olivier (only Marlon Brando could possibly hold that title), but he made a movie that was brimming with the energy of life, one that fully explored the metaphysical concepts in the original play.

    Olivier's goals are more mundane- he's most interested in the psychological and archetypical elements of the play, so the movie is far shorter than Branagh's and its smaller in scope. More than one critic has referred to the settings as claustrophobic. It's as if these characters exist in an entire world unto themselves- an interior world, with a lot of fog and humidity. There is no escape from this dysfunctional family- there is literally no where to go.

    Despite the opening narration, Olivier interprets Hamlet's problem as not so much being unable to make up his mind as much his being unable to function as an adult. He has genuine love for his mother Gertrude (Eileen Herle) and late father (significantly, voiced by Olivier). But it's the love of a young child who worships his god-like parents. Hamlet's problem is not that he's poorly negotiated the inevitable separation trauma because he's never separated- at least while his father was still alive.

    This is made exceedingly clear by the film's most dominant relationship, between Hamlet and his mother. It's significant that Herle was born thirteen years after than Olivier. The fact that Gertrude is so young and that Hamlet feels such affection for her is made obvious, and this makes his hatred of Claudius (Basil Sydney) even more basic and primitive. This was an interesting approach to take, but it means that Hamlet's relationship with other characters suffer. The quasi-romance between the prince and Ophelia (Jean Simmons) is DOA, and his friendship with Horatio (Norman Wooland) is undeveloped as well.

    And although Olivier's performance is of course brilliant (you can bet he deserved the Best Actor Oscar he won), I was ambivalent about many of his directorial choices. The intellectual tone of the picture, combined with the sadness and angst in the movie's atmosphere, make for a movie that is obviously made a genius, but also one that is at times difficult to sit through. The movie is rarely boring, but after spending more than an hour with these super-serious people and their Freudian problems I was ready for it to lighten up a bit and it never did.

    This is where Olivier's film suffers the most in comparison to Branagh's. The contemporary film had such an energy to it, that even in the more tragic moments you felt that at least the characters were really alive. In this picture, it's as if they are hypnotized, waiting for their psychologist to wake them up and send them to a more lively world.

    Hamlet (1948)


  • Secrets of a Soul (1925, Germany, G.W. Pabst) **1/2

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    Based on the title, you should expect a lot from Secrets of a Soul. After all, hasn't mankind been searching for the secrets of the soul since time immemorial? But alas, the "secrets" we find are actually just a lot Freudian psychobabble. A better title would be Secrets of the Id.

    According to the helpful special features that accompany the Kino DVD, Ufa studios and director G.W. Pabst were genuinely interested in making a film based on Freud's theories and even tried to hire the shrink himself to be a consultant on the picture, but Siggy declined. They did manage to convince his disciples Karl Abraham and Hans Sachs to serve as consultants, and, according to some sources, even rewrite the script. I find that idea plausible as the movie is structured more like a case study than an actual narrative.

    After an intertitle informs us that "no important factual information has been changed", the story begins. Martin Fellman (Werner Krauss) is a seemingly typical middle aged chemist who is content with life. His wife (Ruth Weyher) is good catch- she genuinely cares for him and is a lot younger and hotter than he is. One day he receives word that his cousin Erich (Jack Trevor) will be visiting. That day, Martin is shaving the back of his wife's neck when they hear a commotion from the street- someone is murdering a young woman with a knife.

    From that point forward, Martin has serious problems. He is unable to hold a knife, even to cut food to eat with, and when ever his wife is around blades he has an overwhelming desire to kill her. Finally, this interferes with his job (as he starts dropping beakers with chemicals in them) and he visits his local psychologist, Dr. Orth (Pavel Pavlov), who of course solves his problem.

    Howe exactly Dr. Orth does this I am not sure. A movie like this is essentially a mystery, so we expect a lengthy explanation from the good doctor that will probably include a reference to Martin's mother. However, all we are told is that the problem is somehow tied to Erich. Okay, but how? This is somewhat like Sherlock Holmes identifying the criminal, but never explaining why or how the bad guy did it.

    The movie alternates between a fairly classical style in which Martin goes through his daily life and his nightmares and memories, which are shot in a very metaphorical, expressionist style. These sequences are kind of weird but also kind of funny, which is how a lot of modern psychologists think of Freud's theories, making the movie a period piece that has little relevance today. And am I the only who finds it ironic they hired a guy named Pavlov to play the therapist? Woof, woof.

    Geheimnisse einer Seele (1925)


  • Man of a Thousand Faces (1957, USA, Joseph Pevney) **

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    The life of Lon Chaney, Sr. does not easily lend itself to a biopic. For one thing, a great deal is not known about his personal life, and little of what we do know is not dramatically interesting enough to make a movie. The actor was genius, perhaps the greatest of the silent era, and certainly it's greatest makeup artist, but he apparently had enough self-awareness to not believe his own publicity and buy into the movie star myths that destroyed the lives of so many other stars.

    The fact that the life of a man so talented could be apparently so mundane is a problem for a biopic, so Man of a Thousand Faces feels free to add typical biopic cliches and pointless subplots. It milks the two really interesting things about the personal life of Chaney (played here by James Cagney) for all their worth. The first is the fact that his parents were deaf, which was certainly helpful in the training of a silent screen actor. The second is that his first wife, Cleva (Dorothy Malone) attempted suicide, which prompted Chaney to relocate to L.A. just as movies were beginning to be accepted as an art form.

    But although this movie is about an actor, it doesn't demonstrate any real knowledge of acting. We are told repeatedly that the movie's Chaney had a sympathy for people who were "born different". Why? Because his parent's were deaf? Although growing up in an environment of visual communication must have helped him (and it would be interesting to see how), lots of people have deaf parents they are all not brilliant actors. What made Chaney so great?

    The movie does not even try to answer that question and instead spends a ridiculous amount of time dealing with his parents and their deafness, and according to this film, being hearing impaired is about one step above leprosy. An early scene shows Cleva so shocked and embarrassed at being around Chaney's parents that she runs out of the room at Christmas dinner and considers aborting her baby because he/she might be deaf. Come on! Does Joseph Pevney really expect the audience to sympathize with her?

    There's also all the obligatory Hollywood biopic scenes- the talent agent (Jim Backus, Mr. Howell from Gilligan's Island) suddenly comes up with a brilliant marketing campaign, hence the title of the film, Chaney stays late after midnight working on a makeup, hurting his marriage, Cleva comes back to talk to his second wife (Jane Greer), the deathbed reconciliation between father and son (which never happened, as they were never estranged).

    There are other problems with the movie too. When you are casting someone as a truly great actor you have basically two plausible choices. You can cast another truly great actor (Sir John Gielgud bore a resemblance to Chaney and would have been a great choice) or you can cast a total unknown the audience is unfamiliar with. Cagney was in many way a great actor, but he was not in Chaney's league and he was nowhere near as versatile. Cagney could never loose his frantic, speed-of-lighting energy, so it's hard to accepting as someone who apparently an introvert in his personal life. It's been written that Lon Chaney, Jr. was interested in playing his dad, and that also might have been an interesting choice.

    Finally, demonstrating just how great a makeup artist Chaney was, the recreations shot thirty years later are nowhere near as good Chaney's original designs. Watch the unmasking scene from The Phantom of the Opera and compare it to the version here you'll be stunned at just how good Chaney a makeup Chaney was able to do in 1925.

    Making a film about a great actor is not a bad idea, but Man of a Thousand Faces was ill conceived from the beginning, and the mistakes continued right through post-production. The final film is not terrible, but it's predictable, maudlin, a few steps below mediocre, which is the kind of movie that the real Lon Chaney, Sr. would have had nothing to do with.

    Man of a Thousand Faces (1957)


 

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