Cesare Gravina Movies

Universal's ruffled cowboy star Hoot Gibson and brunette Virginia Browne Faire played feuding ranchers in this average silent Western co-directed by Henry McRae and Herbert Blaché. The two ranchers get together to fight a common enemy, however, and fall in love. Based on William McLeod Raine's A Daughter of the Dons, this film is remembered only for Boris Karloff playing one of the thugs. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

When Universal's plans to create a popular screen team out of Glenn Tryon and Patsy Ruth Miller fell through, the studio co-starred Tryon with another contract charmer, Marian Nixon, in How to Handle Women. When Prince Hendryx (Raymond Keane) of Volgaria is unable to float a loan during a visit to the U.S., it is understandable; the principal export of Volgaria is peanuts, of which America (or at least Georgia) has in abundance. The Prince decides that the best way to promote his country's product is with a big-time publicity campaign, and to that end he hires press agent Leonard Higgins (Glenn Tryon). Impersonating the prince, Higgins stages a lavish all-peanut society dinner, complete with a chorus of lovely bathing beauties. What this has to do with handling women is anybody's guess, though Higgins does end up winning the hand of heroine Beatrice Fairbanks (Nixon). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

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, Rovi

Released with sound effects and a music score that included the song "When Love Comes Smiling" by Walter Hirsch, Lew Pollack and Erno Rapee, Paul Leni's near masterpiece remains one of the silent era's last great romantic melodramas. Based on Victor Hugo's 1869 novel L'Homme qui Rit, The Man Who Laughs starred German import Conrad Veidt as Gwynplaine, a carnival freak doomed to live life wearing a perpetual grin carved on his face by Dr Hardquannone (George Siegman because his father, Lord Clancharlie (Allan Cavan), had offended England's King James II (Sam De Grasse). Taken in as a child by Ursus, a mountebank (Cesare Gravina), Gwynplaine grows up alongside the beautiful but blind Dea (Mary Philbin). They fall in love but Gwynplaine refuses to marry her because his hideous face makes him feel unworthy. Queen Anne (Josephine Crowell), meanwhile, has ascended the throne and when she learns from her predecessor's evil jester Barkilphedro (Brandon Hurst) that the recalcitrant Duchess Josiana (Olga Baclanova) is in possession of Lord Clancharlie's estates, she decrees that the royal femme fatale must marry Gwynplaine, the rightful heir. Josiana, who has caught Gwynplaine's act incognito and arranged a rendezvous, is at the same time sexually attracted to and repelled by the "Laughing Man," but Gwynplaine, who realizes that the duchess' attraction has legitimized his right to love Dea, renounces his title and follows his heart to the new World. Although Kirk Douglas was long interested in producing a remake, The Man Who Laughs was instead filmed again as L'Uomo che Ride by Italian director Sergio Corbucci in 1966. Corbucci, however, changed the setting from Queen Anne to the infamous sixteenth century Italian court of the Borgias. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

This witty Max Marcin play became an entertaining vehicle for Clara Kimball Young in 1919; in 1927, it became an entertaining program flick for Universal Studios. Here, Betty Compson takes on the part of Nan Carey, the female detective who's out to trap a gang of crooks. The gang is planning to rob a group of wealthy people. What they don't know is that this supposedly rich family is also a gang of crooks with robbery on their minds. Romance transpires between Nan and Tom Palmer (Kenneth Harlan), an unwilling member of the rival gang. This comic crime thriller was nicely done with many amusing touches. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Lew Cody stars as Tony Townsend, a top-hatted "international adventurer" who gets into a heap of trouble when he runs out of money at the fancy French resort of Monte Carlo. Escaping the authorities, the dapper Tony -- who somewhere along the line has been forced to relinquish his trousers as a down-payment for his board bill -- hides out in the hotel room of prim American schoolteacher Sally (Gertrude Olmstead). He persuades her to protect him from arrest, which she does reluctantly. Clearly, these two were meant for each other, though neither realizes this inevitability until the closing scene. Along the way, Tony poses as one Prince Boris, which does not rest well with the real Boris (Roy D'Arcy). This MGM "B"-plus feature was released in Great Britain as Dreams of Monte Carlo. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

According to the Paramount publicity mill, Joseph Hergesheimer wrote this unoriginal tale of California's early days especially for Pola Negri. Like all too many of Negri's Paramount vehicles, this drama was not worthy of her talents. Don Geraldo y Villalon (Joseph Dowling) hates Americans because he believes they robbed him of his mine. While he sequesters himself at his ranchero, his daughter Carlotta (Negri) yearns for excitement. When she insists on attending a ball that is being held at the mine, her father kills himself. Carlotta falls in love with John Basset (Youcca Troubetzkoy), the superintendent of the mine, but he has no use for her. So she goes to San Francisco where she becomes a dancehall girl and attracts the attention of vigilante leader Luke Rand (Warner Oland). He offers to get the mine back for her if she gives him what he wants. Carlotta agrees, but when she realizes that Rand's efforts will mean Basset's death, she helps defend the mine instead. Rand nevertheless comes to collect what he feels that Carlotta owes him, and Basset shoots him. After being exonerated of the villain's death, Basset is united with Carlotta. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Mariposa (Pola Negri) is a dancer in a Spanish café who is discovered by theatrical manager Señor Sprotti (Cesare Gravina) around the same time that Ralph Bayne, a wealthy American (Wallace MacDonald), sees her. Bayne falls in love with her immediately, as does his chauffeur, Dan Murray (Robert W. Fraser). Because of Sprotti, Mariposa is able to come to America, where both Bayne and Murray continue to woo her -- Bayne with a lot more success. Bertha Sedgwick (Gertrude Astor) is also interested in Bayne, and she rivals Mariposa for his affections. She happens to have a husband (Edwards Davis), and when he catches her in Bayne's apartments, Mariposa, who is also there, claims to be the one compromised. Although Bayne offers to marry her, Mariposa has been disillusioned by his behavior, and she chooses Murray instead. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Dorothy Revier plays a woman who decides that all men are scum when her sister dies giving birth to an illegitimate child. Heading to New York, she becomes a Texas Guinan-style nightclub attraction, regarding and treating all males as "suckers." She is reformed, so to speak, by an altruistic young doctor (Cullen Landis). We last see the heroine in charge of a home for wayward girls, with the doctor lovingly at her side. An early effort from fledgling Columbia Pictures. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This bizarre seafaring melodrama starred the ill-fated John Bowers (in 1936 he committed suicide by walking into the ocean, supposedly becoming the inspiration for A Star Is Born). Captain Martin Manning (Bowers) is told he must get his ship, the Sparrow, out of Mariner's harbor -- there is a dark superstition surrounding it. Manning goes to the Mariner's Home to tell the real story behind the ship. Years before, when he was a new mate, the ship's owner, David Rollins (Joseph J. Dowling), wanted to cure his son, Harry (Edward Burns), of a drug problem. The Sparrow's then-skipper, Thorne Wetherell (Spottiswood Aitken), agreed to take the young man on board. When Manning brought Harry to the ship, he discovered that the crew had mutinied and they were under the spell of voodoo practitioner Serpent Smith (Sheldon Lewis). Manning, Harry, and Wetherell's daughter, Marjorie (Marguerite de la Motte), worked together to overcome Smith and the crew. They succeeded and Manning won Marjorie. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

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, Rovi

This second film version of the Victor Hugo novel Notre Dame de Paris (the first was a Theda Bara vehicle, The Dancer of Paris) was a super-duper-spectacular as only Hollywood of the 1920s could make them, but it is never so large that it dwarfs the contribution of its star, Lon Chaney. As the hunchbacked bellringer Quasimodo, Chaney adorned himself with a special device that made his cheeks jut out grotesquely; a contact lens that blanked out one of his eyes; and, most painfully, a huge rubber hump covered with coarse animal fur and weighing anywhere from 30 to 50 pounds. While Quasimodo is but one of many interconnecting characters in the original Hugo novel, he dominates the narrative of this expensive Universal production. Set in the walled city of Paris in the 16th century, the story is set in motion when the evil Jehan (Brandon Hurst), brother of saintly Notre Dame archdeacon Dom Claude (Nigel De Brulier), orders the dog-like Quasimodo to attempt to kidnap gypsy girl Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller). Quasimodo is captured and flogged for his crime, whereupon Esmeralda shows him kindness by offering him water. He reciprocates when Esmeralda, framed on a murder charge by the obsessed Jehan (if he can't have her, no one can), is sentenced to be hanged. Quasimodo grabs a rope and swings down from the towers of Notre Dame, rescues Esmeralda from the gallows, and carries her into the church, shouting "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!" Through a series of convoluted plot twists, Clopin (Ernest Torrence), the king of beggars, leads an army of the Parisian poor to storm the gates of the cathedral and reclaim Esmeralda. Quasimodo defends both the girl and his church by tossing heavy objects and pouring molten lead upon the invaders. This climactic scene was filmed at night, requiring the services of literally every arc light in Hollywood. The Notre Dame set (which wasn't quite as large in real life as it seems on screen) remained standing on the Universal back lot for years after this film was completed, doing background service in the 1925 Lon Chaney starrer The Phantom of the Opera. With Hunchback of Notre Dame, Lon Chaney rose from mere leading player to major star, which led him to even greater success at MGM, where his reputation as "the man of a thousand faces" really got a workout. The story would be remade by in 1939 with Charles Laughton, in 1955 with Anthony Quinn, in 1982 with Anthony Hopkins, and again in 1996 as a sanitized Disney animated musical. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

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, Rovi