Archive for Thelma Todd

When Saturday Comes

Posted in FILM, MUSIC with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 22, 2018 by dcairns

On Saturday we’ll be in Bo’ness at the Hippodrome Silent Film Festival. Time and budgetary constraints mean I’m not seeing any of the shows before then, since I’d have to travel through by train and then bus and that can get expensive in addition to the (reasonably-priced) cost of the films themselves. But to compensate for that, on Saturday we aim to see EVERYTHING.

10.30 a.m. SAVING SISTER SUSIE with Dorothy Devore, and THE KID REPORTER with Baby Peggy. Neil Brand at the piano.

Lunch.

13.30 FEN DOU (STRIVING). This one’s a gamble because I haven’t been blown away by the little Chinese silent cinema I’ve seen (not even the acclaimed THE GODDESS), but when else will I get a chance to see it? Plus the music, by Stephen Horne & Frank Bockus, is sure to be excellent. The movie itself could be a masterpiece, and is almost certain to be better than hanging around on a cold Saturday in Bo’ness until —

16.30 DER SCHATZ (THE CASTLE). Music by Alois Kott. Pabst’s first feature and one of his most expressionistic films. Should be awesome on the Hippodrome’s big screen.

18.30 Dinner at the Bo’ness Railway Station (home of vintage steam trains that appear in nearly every British period movie) and a screening of THE GREAT K&A TRAIN ROBBERY with Tom Mix on the station platform.

20.00 Double-bill of THE PENALTY with Lon Chaney and Benjamin Christensen’s SEVEN FOOTPRINTS TO SATAN (pictured) with Thelma Todd, for which I’ve written the programme notes. Graeme Stephen & Pete Harvey will be accompanying the former, with Jane Gardner & Roddy Long (THE NORTHLEACH HORROR) scoring the latter.

And then, hopefully, we get a lift home, or at least as far as the Linlithgow train station…

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The Sunday Intertitle: The Mute Todd

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on March 11, 2018 by dcairns

Delighted to be writing screening notes for this year’s Hippodrome Festival of Silent Film — this time, I’m covering a horror double feature of Lon Chaney in Wallace Worsley’s crime-shocker THE PENALTY and Thelma Todd in Benjamin Christensen’s surreal nightmare comedy SEVEN FOOTPRINTS TO SATAN, at last visible in a pristine restoration. It’s revealed as a very beautiful piece of work, raising the cinema of sensation to gloriously absurd heights. (The version I’ve quote from here is much sharper than the YouTube source, but it’s not the new cleaned-up print.)

I’m guilty of something of a misstatement in the video essay for Dreyer’s MICHAEL I just completed. I say that Benjamin Christensen’s Hollywood films lack the weirdness of HAXAN. Not true in this case!

I’ll republish my notes here after the show if that’s OK with the Hippodrome.

Gas-s-s-s

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 9, 2018 by dcairns

 

UNACCUSTOMED AS WE ARE (1929) was the first Laurel & Hardy talkie — I’ve been reading about their career in Randy Skretvedt’s magisterial Laurel and Hardy: The Magic Behind the Movies. Leo McCarey had left Roach to do features, but he left behind a backlog of story ideas which the boys continued to film for some time after his departure.

This story is one of Leo’s “My God! My husband!” farce plots, but it plays a little differently because it’s all much slower. L&H, under Leo’s tutelage, had already slowed their pacing right down, but this is pure early talkie drag here, and it’s a beautiful thing.

Lewis R. Foster & Hal  directed, no doubt with considerable input from Stan. Four cameras rolled on every take, their perspiring operators sealed with them in sound-proofed boxes. The results are inevitably static as well as being slow, the viewer always situated outside the set, looking in. But there’s a spirit of innovation nonetheless.

Always shield the genitals when talking to the wife.

Improvisation! From the start, the boys mistrusted the scripted lines credited to H.M. “Beany” Walker, and would ad-lib their way through them to maintain an air of life and spontaneity. And rehearsal was avoided: “What do you want to do, ruin it?” Stan would say. The speech here has much of the labored, school-play quality of the boys’ Spanish German and French productions, where they had to learn their lines phonetically. But still, there’s a life and an uncertainty to it (like IS uncertainty).

Overlapping dialogue! The reliably ferocious Mae Busch, as Mrs. Hardy, tears into her husband, who protests, resulting in a domestic babel of considerable volume and duration, dialogue as noise.

Rapping! Ollie turns the radio on and Mae’s dialogue starts to sync with the resulting music.

Offscreen noise! The full glory of Ollie’s offscreen crash-landings may not be here yet, but a series of gas explosions erupt from the Hardy kitchen, two of them propelling Ollie bodily out into the living room, the third sending Thelma Todd out with her dress ablaze. Reviewers picked up on an offscreen exit in BROADWAY MELODY the same year, where a character can be heard, but not seen, getting into a car and driving off. Stan & Ollie discovered an even better use for the cost-saving, Ozu-style strategy.

Fucking big flame thrower! Ollie’s involuntary entrances are followed by impressive gouts of flame at ceiling-level. Looks pretty dangerous. The fact that there IS no ceiling probably helped them pass the nonexistent health & safety laws.

More offscreen noise! People start getting beaten up out in the hall with increasing frequency as the film nears its very funny conclusion. One of Leo’s favorite situations was fart-at-the-dinner-table embarrassment. Here, instead of flatulence, it’s Thelma beating the crap out of Edgar Kennedy next door. Then, when we hear Kennedy bopping Ollie’s nose, the echoing wail of off-mic distress is easily as terrifying as those of Cagney’s victims in THE PUBLIC ENEMY.

The flaws and the virtues combine beautifully. The boxy, distant framing, so flat and square, adds hilarity to Edgar Kennedy’s expressionistically posed bulk. There are lessons here, I feel.