A.D. Sears
- 1918
Thomas Santschi and Colin Campbell, respectively the star and director of the 1914 hit The Spoilers, once more joined forces for The City of Purple Dreams. Santschi plays a bum who is accidentally bumped by an auto driven by wealthy Bessie Eyton. Only mildly upset by the accident, Eyton is appalled by Santschi's grungy, slovenly appearance. After being severely reprimanded by the girl, Santschi decides to clean up his act-not to mention his neck and feet. This angers his skid-row girlfriend, anarchist Fritzi Brunette, who plots an explosive revenge. The City of Purple Dreams was based on a novel by Edwin Baird. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
- 1917
This lesser Constance Talmadge vehicle puts her in a Western forest setting. A corrupt corporation sends claim jumpers to steal land from the homesteaders and Jess (Talmadge) urges the people of the township to fight them. A government inspector (A.D. Sears), disguised as a claim jumper, settles on Jess's land and she shoots him. Then she winds up nursing him back to health -- the rest is easily guessed. They fall in love and he brings justice to the bad guys. When this film was made, it hadn't been that long since Talmadge had made her mark in Intolerance, and she doesn't live up to the potential she showed then. It took a couple more years, and quite a few more films, for her to hit her stride. This film is also known as Girl of the Timberclaims. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide
- 1916
Veteran Biograph leading man/director Wilfred Lucas essays the title role in Hell-to-Pay Austin. A rough-and-tumble lumberman, Austin nonetheless has a sentimental side. When the minister father of winsome Briar Rose (Bessie Love) dies of excessive drinking, the girl is unofficially adopted by Austin and his fellow timber jockeys. Her influence transforms old "Hell-to-Pay" from a carouser-brawler to a pious Christian. And of course, once Briar Rose reaches marrying age, she takes Austin as a husband. If Hell-to-Pay Austin were available today, it might prove an eye-opener to film fans who remember Wilfred Lucas only as the stentorian prison warden in Laurel & Hardy's Pardon Us (1931). ~ 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
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
- Starring:
- Lillian Gish, Mae Marsh, (more)
- 1916
The lines of demarcation are clearly drawn in the Douglas Fairbanks vehicle Reggie Mixes In. We know that Reggie (Fairbanks) is rich because he's the best-dressed person in the picture. We know that the criminal gang is a criminal gang because of their grimy costumes. And we know that W.E. Lowery is the head of the crooks because he wears a cap and pin-striped jacket. Well, that's the sort of visual shorthand that silent filmmakers had to indulge in. For the record, Reggie Mixes In is all about a millionaire's effort to prove his grit by taking a job as a saloon bouncer. He falls for slum girl Bessie Love, defends her virtue, arranges for her to inherit a fortune, and it's smiles all around at the end. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
Supervised by D.W. Griffith, Martyrs of the Alamo was directed by Griffith's loyal but considerably less inspired assistant William "Christy" Cabanne. The film never lags in its action sequences, notably the climactic siege of the Alamo. Only in the dramatic scenes does the film cry out for Griffith's masterful touch. Of interest is the casting of Griffith "regulars" Walter Long, Tom Wilson, Alfred Paget and John Dillon as, respectively, General Santa Anna, Sam Houston, Jim Bowie and Colonel Travis. Comedy relief is in the hands of Augustus Carney, the once-popular star of the "Alkali Ike" comedies. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
- 1915
Based on a controversial novel by Robert Ellis Wales, The Penitentes was inspired by a real-life religious cult which thrived in 17th-century Mexico. A group of fanatical Roman Catholics were so dedicated to their beliefs that they staged actual crucifixions on Good Friday. Not all of the victims of this practice were willing ones, which is why the film ends with a "race to the rescue" not unlike the climax in D.W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation. Indeed, The Penitentes was directed by Griffith assistant Jack Conway, who did an excellent job of emulating "The Master." Some have suggested that The Penitentes was written to stir up animosity against such present-day religious sects as the Mormons, but chances are that most viewers accepted the film on face value as a rip-roaring adventure yarn (with the requisite dash of romance, of course). Unfortunately, this film is sometimes confused with the much-later exploitationer Lash of the Penitentes. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
- 1915
Wallace Reid and Dorothy Gish were already screen favorites when they starred on this "Mutual Masterpicture." Dosia Dale (Gish) is a young heiress from Kentucky whose uncle (F.A. Turner) has squandered her fortune. As she comes of age, the uncle realizes that he must get rid of her so he has her committed to a fake insane asylum run by Protheroe. Until she is locked in a barred room, Dosia doesn't realize her peril. She drops a note from the window which winds up in the hands of Ford, a young reporter (Reid). Ford figures out where the note came from and has himself committed to the same asylum by pretending to be a naval officer who is suffering a nervous breakdown. He locates Dosia, but Protheroe and the uncle figure him out and lock him up with Dosia. Ford's pal Cuthbert notifies the police and when they arrive, a shoot-out at the asylum ensues. The home catches fire and Ford and Dosia escape over the roof. Both Protheroe and the uncle are shot to death, and there are hints of a romance warming up between the young people. ~ Janiss Garza, All Movie Guide
