Erich Von Stroheim Movies

Though filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim's notorious profligacy had made him virtually unhirable in the US by 1929, screen-star Gloria Swanson still had faith in him. She poured a great deal of her own money in Von Stroheim's last silent film, Queen Kelly, and agreed to play the leading role to insure box-office success. When production began, Stroheim had not quite completed his script: all he had was the premise of a young Irish convent girl named Kitty Kelly (Gloria Swanson) being seduced by a German nobleman (Walter Byron) who was slated to marry the mad Queen (Seena Owen) of a tiny European principality. Brandishing a whip, the loony Queen drives the hapless Kitty from the palace. It was after shooting had started that Von Stroheim filled Swanson in on the rest of the plot: Kitty was to inherit all the worldly possessions of her aunt in German East Africa. Arriving to take charge of the estate, Kitty would learn that she was proud possessor of a string of brothels. Realizing that such a plot device would never get past the American censors, Swanson reacted in horror; she frantically called her money men in America and screamed "There's a madman in charge!" In the final release version of Queen Kelly, hastily completed by Swanson to recoup her losses and ultimately released in Europe, Kitty Kelly was forced into a marriage with brothel manager Tully Marshall, a tobacco-juiced stained degenerate. She ultimately returns to the nobleman who'd seduced her, is driven from the palace by Queen Owen, and commits suicide. This version contained dialogue sequences, and one musical interlude, sung by star Swanson. Despite its tawdry plot, Queen Kelly was beautifully photographed; its most famous shot, of Swanson praying in church, her face framed by flickering candles, was excerpted in the actress' much-later talkie Sunset Boulevard. The currently available restored version of Queen Kelly uses still pictures and explanatory titles to fill in the footage that has decomposed over the years. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Having alienated virtually all the major Hollywood studios, filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim turned to independent entrepreneur Pat Powers for funding for his 1927 epic The Wedding March. Set during the Austro-Hungarian Hapsburg regime, the film stars director Von Stroheim as wastrelly Prince Nikki, who is advised by his parents to marry into money if he hopes to keep up his sumptuous lifestyle. During the Corpus Christi festival (much of which is lensed in early Technicolor), Nikki spots the beautiful peasant girl Mitzi (Fay Wray) in the crowd. The two fall in love, but happiness eludes them: Nikki is slated to marry the homely, clubfooted daughter (ZaSu Pitts) of a millionaire corn-plaster manufactuer, while Mitzi's erstwhile boy friend, a mean-spirited butcher (Matthew Betz) who despises the aristocracy, promises dire consequences to Nikki for compromising Mitzi. Despite his dissipated, debauched lifestyle, Prince Nikki develops into the most sympathetic character in the film. As it now exists, The Wedding March is one of Von Stroheim's best films; incredibly, it was originally the first half of a two-part production (the second half, The Wedding, no longer exists). Released by Paramount, the film did excellent business during its first week-then dropped off precipitously, one of several factors which caused an irreparable rift between Von Stroheim and his new benefactor Powers. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Frank Norris' powerful Zola-esque novel McTeague was first filmed in 1915. While filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim would insist that he'd been enthralled by the book since it first came out in 1902, it is more likely that he didn't make the novel's acquaintance until seeing that 1915 film. Whatever the case, Von Stroheim vowed that, if he ever had enough Hollywood clout, he'd produce the "definitive" version of McTeague. After scoring an enormous financial hit with Foolish Wives, he had just that clout, and, in 1923, he began work on what he hoped would his masterpiece.

Stripped to its bare essentials, McTeague tells the story of a brutish, but basically good-natured, miner named McTeague (played by Gibson Gowland), who finds his true calling in life by taking over the practice of a traveling dentist. Setting up shop in San Francisco, McTeague falls in love with Trina (ZaSu Pitts), the daughter of German immigrants. It happens that Trina is the girlfriend of McTeague's best pal Marcus (Jean Hersholt), who is mildly resentful, but ultimately forgiving, when McTeague and Trina are married. Always seeking out an opportunity to better herself, Trina buys a lottery ticket. When the ticket pays off and she wins a fortune, the previously even-tempered Trina undergoes a complete personality change, metamorphosing into a grasping, greedy, miserly shrew, hoarding huge sums of money while her husband must get by on his meager earnings as a dentist. Trina's sudden windfall sparks a change in both McTeague and Marcus, as well; driven to distraction by his wife's avarice, McTeague turns into a violent beast, while Marcus boils with jealousy over losing the now-prosperous Trina to McTeague. Pushed too far, McTeague ultimately murders Trina and escapes to the desert with her money. Appointed a sheriff's deputy, the envious Marcus heads out to bring McTeague in, and the two men catch up with one another in the middle of Death Valley. Their water supply gone, their packhorse dead, McTeague and Marcus begin a fight to the death. McTeague manages to shoot and kill Marcus -- only to discover that Marcus has manacled himself to McTeague. Utterly defeated, he sits benumbed on the scorching rocks, awaiting madness and a horrible death.

Filming at actual locations (the murder scene was shot at a locale where a real murder had occurred, while the sweltering Death Valley sequence was, likewise, made there), Von Stroheim remained doggedly faithful to the Norris original, shooting every page word for word. The end result ran 40 reels, or roughly 10 hours of screen time. Then came the corporate intrigues. Von Stroheim, who had begun the film through the auspices of the old Goldwyn studios, now had to contend with the newly formed Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer regime. Production head Irving Thalberg argued logically that no audience would sit still for ten hours of unrelenting realism. Von Stroheim reluctantly responded by paring his film down to 20 reels, but it was still far too long and depressing for MGM's taste. The director's friend Rex Ingram weeded out two more reels, warning Von Stroheim that "If you cut out another inch, I'll never speak to you again." At this point, MGM, feeling that too much money had already been spent on the project, took McTeague away from Von Stroheim and ordered June Mathis to whittle the picture down to ten reels. It is this version, retitled Greed, that was released to the public in late 1924.

Far from the financial disaster that MGM always claimed it was (the film actually posted a small profit), Greed was still too overpowering for many observers. Critics and audiences were sharply divided, some hailing the film as a work of unbridled genius, others dismissing as "an epic of the sewer." Von Stroheim, angered that his baby had been "butchered," refused to ever see the ten-reel Greed. When viewed today, the film retains its raw dramatic power; the continuity gaps and clumsy transitional titles that once seemed so unforgivable are generally ignored by contemporary audiences. Still, Greed is not a happy, high-kickin' production. Though a rewarding experience, it remains very rough sledding for those accustomed to traditional, conservative entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Best known today as the film which cost director Erich Von Stroheim his job at Universal Studios, Merry Go Round contains enough Von Stroheim touches to suggest that "official" director Rupert Julian merely tied together the film's loose ends. The titular merry-go-round is owned by the unspeakable George Siegmann, who inflicts all sorts of casual cruelties upon organ-grinder Mary Philbin. In addition to enduring Siegmann, Philbin must decide whether or not Austrian-count Norman Kerry truly loves her, or is merely toying with her in the months before his arranged marriage with countess Dorothy Wallace. The latter seems to be the case when Kerry goes through with his marriage. While fighting in the Franco-Prussian war, Kerry fortuitously comes across Philbin's dying father (Cesare Gravina), who roundly chastises the count before expiring. After the war, an impoverished and widowed Kerry tries to make amends to Philbin, who by now is herself engaged to hunchbacked circus performer George Hackathorne. A happy ending is in store for all concerned except the villainous Siegmann (remember him?), who suffers an appropriately grisly demise. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Made in between his two classics, Blind Husbands and Foolish Wives, this drama from director Erich von Stroheim centers on a restless American wife married to a rich but unsuccessful playwright who reels after his newest work is rejected. The trouble begins when she finds herself strongly attracted to a handsome army officer and begins an affair. Unfortunately, the scandal hits the paper, though no names are mentioned. Upon reading about it, the playwright is suddenly inspired and uses it to beef up his play. He has no idea that his wife is involved until opening night. The play is a smash hit thanks to his wife's philandering, but she is utterly humiliated. She gets a headache and asks her husband, who still doesn't know, to escort her home. Instead he asks her lover to do it. As the party goes on, the truth theatens to come out. ~ Matthew Tobey, All Movie Guide

On the heels of his masterpiece, Intolerance, which dramatized the futility of war born out of prejudice, director D.W. Griffith shifted gears for this film. Intolerance had proven a financial disaster for Griffith, so he signed with producer Adolph Zukor to release his next film. He came upon the subject matter on a trip to England to promote Intolerance. The British government, desperately looking to America for help in fighting the Germans in the first World War, persuaded Griffith to make a propaganda picture. Set in France, it's the portrait of a village overrun by the Germans during the hostilities. Griffith begins the story in 1912 with a slow developing romance between The Boy, Douglas Gordon Hamilton (Robert Harron) and The Girl, Marie Stephenson (Lillian Gish). A street singer known as The Disturber (Dorothy Gish) tries to come between them, but she settles for her own romance with Monsieur Cuckoo (Robert Anderson). In the summer of 1914, The Boy and M. Cuckoo answer the call to arms, forcing the postponement of The Boy and Girl's wedding. The film's second half cuts back and forth between the battlefield and the home front (which in this case are separated by only a few miles). By the time the film was completed, the United States had already entered the war, and over the years its extreme portrayal of German soldiers has been trimmed, the first time at the request of the wife of President Woodrow Wilson. In fact, Griffith included shots of American troops helping out in the story's final battle and then marching off to return home. The version viewed for this review, running 115 minutes, included a brief prologue with footage of Griffith touring the battlefields in France, where some documentary footage was shot, though most of the film was made in Southern California, and the director meeting with British prime minister David Lloyd George. Also notable is the appearance in small parts of future filmmaker Erich Von Stroheim as a German soldier, future character actor Ben Alexander as The Boy's youngest brother, and future entertainer Noël Coward as a young villager pushing a wheelbarrow. ~ Tom Wiener, All Movie Guide

Even though World War I had just reached its end, the war films kept coming. While The Heart of Humanity had a similar plot to D.W. Griffith's Hearts of the World, it was by no means some cheap knock-off. Director Alan Holubar worked hard (sometimes too hard for this post-war era) to make the battle scenes as authentic as possible. The story centers around Nanette (Dorothy Phillips), an American girl living in a small Canadian village, who is in love with John Patricia (William Stowell), the eldest of five brothers. The war interrupts their romantic idyll, as everyone goes overseas to Belgium and France. Nanette becomes a Red Cross nurse and is terrorized by the evil Prussian Lt. von Eberhard (Erich Von Stroheim, who played a similar, but smaller role in Hearts of the World). It is up to John to save her from the Hun's advances. It was in this film that Von Stroheim, who had become famous for his wicked portrayals of German officers, was billed as "The Man You Love to Hate." This was his first movie for Universal; he would be both director and star of the next one, Blind Husbands. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide

The first collaboration between producer Joseph M. Schenck and his wife Norma Talmadge was also their first huge success. The film's title character (played by Talmadge) is a pianist graduate of the Moscow Conservatory. An evil Baron (L. Rogers Lytton) lusts after her, and through his machinations she winds up in jail. She escapes, only to be shipwrecked on the coast of England, where she meets and falls in love with Gerald Mordaunt (Earle Foxe), who is also a classical pianist and composer. They marry, but to finance the performance of a composition of Gerald's, Panthea is forced to become involved with the Baron. The Baron dies, however, and Panthea is re-arrested upon returning to Moscow. She and Gerald wind up in Siberia together, with the hope that the English consulate will get them a formal release. According to Anita Loos, Norma's mother, Peg Talmadge, came up with the idea of acquiring the Monckton Hoffe play from which this film was made. But it doesn't matter, really, who thought of combining Norma Talmadge with the role of a beautiful, long-suffering woman -- the shoe fit, and she wound up specializing in such roles for the rest of her career. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide

Hero Gerald Ackland (Edward Earle) is not inclined to wait for America's entry into WWI. Long before his own country's official declaration, he heads to France to defend the Forces of Democracy against the Kaiser's hordes. While flying his airplane across enemy lines, our hero is forced to bail out, whereupon he locates a conveniently abandoned machine gun. As German bullets whizz around him, he remains at his post, mowing down the enemy with ruthless determination. Even in 1917, audiences didn't swallow the fabricated heroics of For France, so the producer felt obliged to insert a shot of the American flag at the end, just so he could claim that his film ended with a standing ovation. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Sometime during the shooting of the landmark The Birth of a Nation, filmmaker D.W. Griffith probably wondered how he could top himself. In 1916, he showed how, with the awesome Intolerance. The film began humbly enough as a medium-budget feature entitled The Mother and the Law, wherein the lives of a poor but happily married couple are disrupted by the misguided interference of a "social reform" group. A series of unfortunate circumstances culminates in the husband's being sentenced to the gallows, a fate averted by a nick-of-time rescue engineered by his wife. In the wake of the protests attending the racist content of The Birth of a Nation, Griffith wanted to demonstrate the dangers of intolerance. The Mother and the Law filled the bill to some extent, but it just wasn't "big" enough to suit his purposes. Thus, using The Mother and the Law as merely the base of the film, Griffith added three more plotlines and expanded his cinematic thesis to epic proportions. The four separate stories of Intolerance are symbolically linked by Lillian Gish as the Woman Who Rocks the Cradle ("uniter of the here and hereafter"). The "Modern Story" is essentially The Mother and the Law; the "French Story" details the persecution of the Huguenots by Catherine de Medici (Josephine Crowell); the "Biblical Story" relates the last days of Jesus Christ (Howard Gaye); and the "Babylonian Story" concerns the defeat of King Belshazzar (Alfred Paget) by the hordes of Cyrus the Persian (George Siegmann).

Rather than being related chronologically, the four stories are told in parallel fashion, slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity. The action in the film's final two reels leaps back and forth in time between Babylon, Calvary, 15th century France, and contemporary California. Described by one historian as "the only film fugue," Intolerance baffled many filmgoers of 1916 -- and, indeed, it is still an exhausting, overwhelming experience, even for audiences accustomed to the split-second cutting and multilayered montage sequences popularized by Sergei Eisenstein, Orson Welles, Jean-Luc Godard, Joel Schumacher, and MTV. On a pure entertainment level, the Babylonian sequences are the most effective, played out against one of the largest, most elaborate exterior sets ever built for a single film. The most memorable character in this sequence is "The Mountain Girl," played by star on the rise Constance Talmadge; when the Babylonian scenes were re-released as a separate feature in 1919, Talmadge's tragic death scene was altered to accommodate a happily-ever-after denouement. Other superb performances are delivered by Mae Marsh and Robert Harron in the Modern Story, and by Eugene Pallette and Margery Wilson in the French Story. Remarkably sophisticated in some scenes, appallingly naïve in others, Intolerance is a mixed bag dramatically, but one cannot deny that it is also a work of cinematic genius. The film did poorly upon its first release, not so much because its continuity was difficult to follow as because it preached a gospel of tolerance and pacifism to a nation preparing to enter World War I. Currently available prints of Intolerance run anywhere from 178 to 208 minutes; while it may be rough sledding at times, it remains essential viewing for any serious student of film technique. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The most successful and artistically advanced film of its time, The Birth of a Nation has also sparked protests, riots, and divisiveness since its first release. The film tells the story of the Civil War and its aftermath, as seen through the eyes of two families. The Stonemans hail from the North, the Camerons from the South. When war breaks out, the Stonemans cast their lot with the Union, while the Camerons are loyal to Dixie. After the war, Ben Cameron (Henry B. Walthall), distressed that his beloved south is now under the rule of blacks and carpetbaggers, organizes several like-minded Southerners into a secret vigilante group called the Ku Klux Klan. When Cameron's beloved younger sister Flora (Mae Marsh) leaps to her death rather than surrender to the lustful advances of renegade slave Gus (Walter Long), the Klan wages war on the new Northern-inspired government and ultimately restores "order" to the South. In the original prints, Griffith suggested that the black population be shipped to Liberia, citing Abraham Lincoln as the inspiration for this ethnic cleansing. Showings of Birth of a Nation were picketed and boycotted from the start, and as recently as 1995, Turner Classic Movies cancelled a showing of a restored print in the wake of the racial tensions around the O.J. Simpson trial verdict. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

This the second full-length film version of Henrik Ibsen's stage tragedy Ghosts (the first was a Russian production directed by Vladimir Gardin) starred Henry B. Walthall as the benighted hero Oswald. In the original play, Oswald inherits his father's syphilis: in the film, he falls heir to his dad's alcoholism and epilepsy. This alteration aside, the film builds inexorably to Ibsen's startling denouement in which Oswald discovers that Regina (Loretta Blake), the woman he loves, is actually his own half-sister. (Mary Alden), who like Walthall had previously co-starred in D.W.Griffith's The Birth of a Nation, was here cast as Mrs. Alving. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide