Lars Hanson Movies

Swedish actor Lars Hanson, best known to American audiences for his sensitive performances in such silent classics as The Scarlet Letter and Flesh and the Devil, heads the cast of Intill Helvetets Portar. The title translates as Till the Doors of Hell, a not-so-oblique reference to the precariousness of the postwar Atomic Age. Hanson plays Victor Barring, who at the beginning of the film wins a Nobel Prize for his efforts in the field of atomic research. Barring's assistants, appalled by the possibility of an A-bomb apocalypse, band together to prevent him from continuing his work. Posing several controversial questions, Intill Helvetets Portar provides no easy answers, assuming that the audience is intelligent enough to formulate its own opinions. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Based on a play by Helge Krog, Pa Solisdan (On the Sunny Side) was one of Gustav Molander's most popular films. Lars Hanson stars as wealthy Harold Ribe, who steals naïve provincial girl Eve (Ingrid Bergman) away from lothario novelist Joachim Brink (Edvin Adolphson). Feeling that Eve lacks sophistication, Harold introduces him to his city friends, only to find himself battling for the girl's attentions with another man. Meanwhile, Brink finds solace in a romance with Harold's sister Kajsa (Marianne Lofgren). In 1936, American critics were impressed by most of the cast, though they tended to ignore newcomer Ingrid Bergman in her first starring role. Pa Solisdan was remade for Swedish television in 1966. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this drama, an impoverished Irishman decides to turn an IRA colleague into the cops to receive a desperately needed reward that will allow him to escape to America with his mistress. Unfortunately his plans go awry and the young man is filled with guilt by his friends who once held his high ideals. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The Wind, Victor Sjostrom's final American film, is a western only in its locale: its symbolism-laden story of physical and spiritual repression, culminating in a violent, hysterical outburst, has more in common with the European or Scandanavian cinema than with the usual MGM product. Lillian Gish plays a sheltered Virginia girl who heads to Texas to live with her male cousin and his family. Upon arriving at her new home-actually little more than a squalid shack-she is treated as an unwelcome interloper. Even worse is the omnipresecent wind, which howls ceaselessly all around. To quell the jealousy of her cousin's wife, Lillian marries cowboy Lars Hanson, but this impulsive union seems foredoomed from the start. During Hanson's absence, Lillian is visited by former suitor Montague Love. With rape on his mind, Love laughs derisively as Lillian aims a pistol at his midsection. His laughter ceases when she pulls the trigger (the killing is subtly conveyed by a cutaway to a sand-covered plate, which jiggles slightly from the impact of the shot). In near hysteria, she drags the dead man outside and buries him, the mercilessly wind whipping and buffetting her about. Locking herself in the shack, Lillian looks out the window--and, in fascinated horror, sees Love's body "emerging" from the constantly shifting sands. In the film's original ending, Lillian goes completely mad, wandering blindly into the desert. Preview audiences were revolted by this denoument, so the film now ends with Larson's return and a happy reconciliation (reportedly, director Sjostrom's original cut is still available from European sources). In later years, Lillian Gish recalled The Wind as the toughest, most unpleasant picture she ever worked on. The location scenes were shot in the Mojave Desert, where the combination of relentless heat and artificially induced windstorms made working conditions virtually intolerable. At one point, Ms. Gish absentmindedly clutched the metal handle of her car's door-immediately incurring a second-degree burn. Adapted by Frances Marion from a novel by Dorothy Scarborough, The Wind, despite its artistic merit, was a box-office disappointment, resulting in a parting of the ways between Lillian Gish and MGM. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Lars Hanson had recently appeared as Reverend Dimmesdale in The Scarlet Letter when he was called on once again to play a man of the cloth. Anson Campbell (Hanson), however, has his doubts as he studies for the ministry -- he loves the sea at least as much as he loves God. Bess Morgan (Pauline Starke) is scorned by the villagers as a wicked, sinful woman, but the open-minded Campbell sides with her. This horrifies the straight-laced townsfolk, and Campbell signs on with a ship in disgust. It turns out to be a convict ship, and Bess is on board. She had promised Campbell she would change her ways, and she hold fast to this, even when the Captain (Ernest Torrence) tries to force himself on her. Rather than allow him to have his way with her, she kills herself. Her steadfastness renews Campbell's faith, and he establishes the first gospel ship, thus blending his two loves. He returns home to wed his sweetheart, Mary Phillips (Marceline Day). ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

A bulky, verbose novel by Herman Suderman was the source for the exquisitely silent Flesh and the Devil. On leave from the Austrian army, lifelong friends John Gilbert and Lars Hanson return to their loving families. At a reception in Hanson's honor, Gilbert makes the acquaintance of the hauntingly beautiful Greta Garbo, whom he'd previously glimpsed for a few fleeting seconds at the railway depot. Those few seconds were enough to thoroughly captivate Gilbert, thus paving the way for a feverish sexual liaison with Garbo. Gilbert is shocked to discover that Garbo is married to aristocrat Marc MacDermott, who challenges Gilbert to a duel--on the proviso that the "official" reason for their argument is a disagreement at cards, so that McDermott will suffer no disgrace. Gilbert kills the husband on the field of honor; as punishment for his unmilitary conduct, he is "invited" to accept a post in Africa. Honoring his promise to the late McDermott, Gilbert reveals his love of Garbo to no one, not even his dearest friend Hanson. As he departs for his five-year exile, Gilbert asks Hanson to look after the "bereaved" Garbo. Pardoned after three years, Gilbert returns home, only to discover that Garbo has remarried--to Hanson. Minister George Fawcett, evidently the only person to know of Gilbert's tryst with Garbo, advises Gilbert to give up his friendship with Hanson so as to avoid the temptation of cuckolding his best friend. But when Hanson falls seriously ill, Garbo begs Gilbert to renew the friendship. He does so, not suspecting that Garbo merely wants to trap him in her web again. Gilbert is caught in a compromising position by the distraught Hanson; he regretfully challenges Gilbert to a duel, to be fought on their favorite childhood playing site, "The Island of Friendship". As Hanson nervously aims his weapon at the repentant, unresisting Gilbert, he realizes that he can't go through with the duel. The two friends embrace, begging one another's forgiveness...while Garbo, who has belatedly headed across the frozen lake to prevent the duel, comes to an icy end. While the overly intense "male bonding" between John Gilbert and Lars Hanson tends to evoke knowing chuckles when seen today, Flesh and the Devil otherwise holds up quite well. Clarence Brown's innovative directorial touches still seem fresh after years of imitation by lesser talents. Ostensibly a John Gilbert vehicle (he receives sole over-the-title billing), Flesh is utterly dominated through sheer force of personality by the divine Garbo; in anyone else's hands, her enigmatic, impulse-driven temptress would have been just another cardboard vixen. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Known under a variety of titles, The Atonement of Gosta Berling is an excellent representation of the Swedish silent cinema. Long, complex, and elaborately produced, the film nonetheless never loses sight of the human elements which motivate the story. Lars Hanson stars as Berling, a defrocked priest whose rebellious attitude hides a greater sense of idealism than most of his "pious" contemporaries. Among the women in Berling's life is a supposedly married countess, played with instinctive brilliance by a young, awkward, chubby Greta Garbo. Overflowing with betrayals, revenge, and regeneration, Atonement of Gosta Berling has enough plots for ten films. American audiences generally saw a severely truncated version, running approximately half the film's original length. What was left was enough for MGM to invite director Mauritz Stiller and star Greta Garbo to Hollywood, though in typically callous big-studio fashion, Garbo was retained while Stiller was permitted to wither on the vine. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi