Charles Belcher Movies

Long before he became established as Hollywood's favorite headwaiter, character actor Gino Corrado enjoyed a brief fling at stardom. Billed as Gene Corrado, he played a courageous French army captain in the 1926 cheapie Modern Youth. Tired of warfare and bloodshed, Corrado sheds his uniform and heads to America, there to start life anew as a peace-loving civilian. Instead, he is pressed into duty as a secret agent for the U.S. and shipped off to a revolution-torn banana republic. With swashbuckling panache, Corrado rescues heroine Olive Kirby from her villainous uncle, pausing only to dispatch a soldier or two with his trusty sword. So what does all this have to do with a title like Modern Youth? ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The advertising tag "four years in the making" is usually so much press-agent puffery. In the case of the 1926 silent version of Ben Hur, it was the unvarnished truth--and the filmmakers had the scars to prove it. The story behind the film is now part of Hollywood folklore: the cast and production crew changes (star George Walsh summarily dumped in favor of Roman Novarro, director Charles J. Brabin replaced by Fred Niblo, writer-supervisor June Mathis-who'd spearheaded the project in the first place-abruptly fired); the hundreds of thousands of dollars spent on the troublesome location shooting in Italy--money that was lost when most of the footage proved unusable; the extra expenditure of refilming in Hollywood; and the huge chunk of the film's profits eaten up by the 50% royalty deal set up with theatrical producers Klaw and Erlanger, who controlled the rights to General Lew Wallace's novel. The end result reflected the turbulent production conditions: Ben Hur is an extraordinarily uneven experience, with moments of cinematic brilliance and pulse-pounding thrills alternating with long stretches of stagey boredom. The film follows the original Wallace story to the letter: Judah Ben-Hur (Novarro), a wealthy Jew living under the reign of the Caesars, is betrayed by his best friend, ambitious Roman centurion Messala (Francis X. Bushman). Ben-Hur's family is sent to prison, while he himself is condemned to the galleys. During a violent sea battle, Ben-Hur saves the life of galleon commander Quintus Arrius (Frank Currier). The grateful commander adopts Ben-Hur as his son and bankrolls his desire to become a champion charioteer. Thirsting for revenge, Ben-Hur agrees to race against his old nemesis Messala. The latter is fatally injured during the race; with his dying breath, Messala reveals that Ben-Hur's family, previously reported dead, are actually alive--but living as lepers. The story is subtitled A Tale of the Christ because, at various junctures in his life, Ben-Hur has been touched by the hand of Jesus. Ben-Hur must totally embrace Christ's edict of love and forgiveness before he can be reunited with his family. As Jesus is crucified in Jerusalem, Ben-Hur's mother (Claire McDowell) and sister (Kathleen Key), having also embraced the Christian philosophy, are miraculously cured of their leprosy. Most of these plot elements, together with the romance between Ben-Hur and the lovely Esther (May McAvoy), reappeared in the 1959 remake of Ben-Hur--which, fortunately, did not include the ridiculous subplot involving the alluring Iras (Carmel Myers), who attempts to seduce Ben-Hur just before the big race. The film's highlights--the sea battle, the now-legendary chariot race--were produced on a far grander scale than in the 1959 version; unfortunately, both highlights took place in the first half of the picture, leaving the viewers with a rather dreary, drawn out denouement (the remake wisely placed the sea battle in part one, and the race in part two). The Technicolor Nativity sequences were condemned in 1926 as being in poor taste, but when seen today are beautifully handled and restful on the eye (oddly, no one complained about the nude female revellers during a later Technicolor pageant scene!) Ben Hur cost $4 million and grossed $9 million on its first release. The aforementioned royalty arrangement left MGM with only a $1 million take. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Percy Schwartz (Matt Moore) has no desire to go into his father's garbage can manufacturing business. He'd rather write screenplays and marry his sweetheart, Ruth Rand (Patsy Ruth Miller). When he proposes, Ruth insists on getting the consent of her uncle and guardian (Charles Belcher). Dr. Rand thinks Schwartz is a weakling and tests his courage with the help of Kotah (Bertram Grassby), his Indian servant who is also in love with Ruth. Suddenly, Schwartz finds himself at the mercy of a group of mad scientists, but he makes his escape with the help of his friend, street cleaner Diploma (Tom Wilson, playing in blackface, was incomprehensible and offensive to modern-day audiences, but considered quite funny in the 1920s). Ruth has been kidnapped, but Kotah has double-crossed his master and the kidnapping is for real. He takes her on a boat, but Schwartz uses a plane to rescue her. Dr. Rand becomes convinced of Schwartz's bravery and he gives his blessings to the union. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Both animal and human nostrils flare, and passion reigns in this classic romantic tragedy with Rudolph Valentino. Valentino is Juan Gallarde, an aspiring bullfighter, married to his loving childhood sweetheart Carmen (Lila Lee). But as his fame rises as a matador, so does his hot Spanish blood, and he succumbs to the passionate embraces of the sultry Doña Sol (Nita Naldi). When Juan is gored by a bull, his bullfighting fame is cut short, and Carmen returns to his side to nurse him back to health, and, as he struggles to regain his strength and make a comeback in the bullring, Carmen is there for him. At last he returns to the bullring, but in the stands, Juan sees Doña Sol with another lover. His attention distracted, a furious bull charges him and he is killed, dying in the arms of Carmen. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

This comedy-drama starring Anita Stewart was unusual in that instead of marrying the handsome leading man, the heroine winds up with his father. As an infant, Rose (Stewart) was cast onshore after a shipwreck and taken in by an old sailor. The sailor raises her, and after his death, Rose goes to work in a Fifth Avenue flower shop. The good-looking but dissolute Elliott Schuyler (Rudolph Cameron) meets her there, and invites her out for a ride in his car. She goes, but repulses his amorous advances. Elliott, who has been drinking, hits his head and is knocked unconscious. Rose goes to his millionaire father, Peter Schuyler (Thomas Holding), to tell him of his son's death, but Elliott comes to and arrives home while she is still there. The young man takes up with a chorus girl, and when Peter tries to buy her off, she uses the money to pay one of his son's gambling debts. Rose, meanwhile, is befriended by an elderly lady who tries to start a romance between her and Elliott. The ploy is nearly successful, and the couple go so far as to become engaged. But Elliott decides he is unworthy of her and marries the chorus girl. Peter disinherits him, but Rose helps father and son to reconcile. Along the way, she and Peter fall in love and they marry. This picture was based on the novel by Countess Barcynska. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Johnston MacCulley's 1913 adventure yarn The Curse of Capistrano was given its first filmization in Douglas Fairbanks' 1920 The Mark of Zorro. Fairbanks plays the outwardly foppish Don Diego de la Vega, the son of wealthy Spanish Californian rancher. In reality, Don Diego is the dashed masked-and-caped Zorro, who wages a one-man war to rescue his fellow citizens from the tyranny Captain Juan Ramon (Robert McKim). The lovely Lolita (Marguerite de la Motte) despises the namby-pamby Don Diego, but loves the devil-may-care Zorro, never dreaming (until the end, of course) that the two men are one. In turn, Lolita is loved by Captain Ramon, who is as ruthless in his domestic dealings as he is in his political weight-throwing. Noah Beery Sr. plays Sgt. Garcia, a buffoonish minion of Ramon's who eventually casts his lot with Zorro--after being bested time and again by the hero's swordplay. Best scene: Zorro insouciantly challenging Ramon's soldiers to capture him while he wines and dines at a local cantina. At the time he made Mark of Zorro, Fairbanks was best known for his peppy contemporary comedies. He hoped that Zorro would be an interesting temporary change of pace for him, never dreaming that the film's popularity would lock him into the swashbuckling mode for the rest of the silent career. In 1925, Fairbanks starred in a sequel, Don Q, Son of Zorro; the original film has, of course, been remade many times since 1920. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi