Duvivier’s silent films

Author(s):  
Ben McCann

This chapter will look at Duvivier’s first forays into filmmaking, and chart the development of the Duvivier ‘touch’ over a decade of working in silent film. It will explore the visual aspects of the silent films and allow continuities and consistencies to be traced between these early works to show a director developing a singular style and then refining it in the later, more technically accomplished films post-1930. In 1925, Duvivier joined the production company 'Film d’Art’, where he worked for nine years, and where he honed his expertise on collaborating groups of artists and technicians on a number of consecutive projects. Such collaborative working methods would serve him well throughout his career. The chapter also pay close attention to those silent films which had a religious subject - Credo ou la tragédie de Lourdes (1924), L’Agonie de Jérusalem (1927) and La Vie miraculeuse de Thérèse Martin (1929) - a film about the Carmelite saint Thérèse of Lisieux. The chapter concludes with an in-depth look at Duvivier’s most famous silent film, Au Bonheur des dames (1930), an adaptation of Emile Zola’s classic novel, starring Dita Parlo.

Author(s):  
Esther Pia Wipfler

ABSTRACTThe “Luther film” is still a little-examined source for the Protestant self-image, despite the fact that the medium was employed since 1911 to portray the history of the Reformation. Of the four known silent films on the subject, two are preserved only as copies of a late censored version. There is a clearly recognizable paradigm shift in the portrayal of the reformer over the twenty-year span of these Luther films. Luther is transformed from the romantic aesthete of the “Wittenberger Nachtigall” in 1913 to the hero of the “deutschen Reformation” in 1927. Concerning the earliest films, made in 1911 (“Doktor Martin Luther”) and 1913 (“Wittenberger Nachtigall” renamed “Der Weg zur Sonne” in 1921), the circumstances of and grounds for production are no longer entirely clear. Most likely they were primarily concerned with commercial enterprise, but at the same time they reflected the spirit of the Luther-Renaissance in a popular way. Nevertheless the importance of the silent movie for the transfer of the patterns and images of Lutheran iconography into film cannot be underestimated. A fundamental difference from the later films is the focus of the earlier films’ biographical narrative upon Luther’s wedding. This approach would not be used again until after World War II. The influence of the church can first be demonstrated in the Luther film of 1923. The initiative for the film - in light of the meeting of the Lutheran World Assembly in Eisenach on August 21, 1923 - probably came from the Baron von den Heyden- Rynsch, who was at that time head of the Eisenach city Bureau for Art, Sport and Tourism. The highest church authorities supported the production in two ways: they offered scriptwriting advice and also eventually allowed the film to be distributed through the Evangelical Picture Association (Evangelische Bilderkammer|). However, the resulting film received mixed reviews. This was due not only to deficiencies in the acting, but also to the tentative portrayal of the film’s religious subject matter. “Luther. Ein Film der deutschen Reformation” (1926-1927) was much more professionally and lavishly produced. It completely served the national Protestant propaganda of the Evangelical League (Evangelischer Bund|), which founded the production company. The chairman of the League, the Berlin cathedral pastor and university professor Bruno Döhring, had a decisive influence on the script. The film, which would be in wide release until 1939, effectively extended the cultural conflict between the two leading churches, Catholic and Lutheran. It would finally lead to the sort of denominational conflicts that halted the tradition of Luther films in Germany. (Translation by Heather McCune Bruhn, Pennstate College)


2020 ◽  
Vol 17 (1) ◽  
pp. 72-83
Author(s):  
Agnieszka Cieślak

Abstract Bronisław Mirski (b. 1887 as Moszkowicz in Żyrardów near Warsaw, Poland – d. 1927 in El Paso, Texas) belongs to the substantial group of Polish émigré artists of Jewish origin. A violinist and conductor educated in Europe, he permanently settled in the United States at the end of 1914 under the name of Nek Mirskey and soon began working as a music director in movie theatres. He was in charge of the musical settings for elaborate artistic programmes composed of silent films as well as music and stage attractions. His first widely acclaimed shows were presented at the Metropolitan Theatre of Harry M. Crandall's chain in Washington, D.C. Based primarily on the American press of 1921–23, this article discusses Mirski's work methods and his involvement in improving the quality of live musical accompaniment for silent films. The work that he continued till the end of his life places him among the foremost musicians of the silent film era.


2018 ◽  
pp. 208-223
Author(s):  
Maite Conde

This chapter undertakes a close reading of the Brazilian experimental silent film Limite, made in 1930 by Mário Peixoto. It pays close attention to the context of the film’s production: Peixoto’s contact with the world of cinephilia in Brazil and his links to the European avant-garde. In doing so, it analyzes the film’s style in the light of Germaine Dulac’s emphasis on cinema’s visual rhythms. Rather than providing us with a story or even presenting us with the psychological state of mind among its characters, it shows how Peixoto’s film “thinks” in pictures, movements, and angles, trying to intertwine diverse visual fields by using certain symbolic themes and variations. The chapter this shows how Limite accomplishes what Dulac had demanded in 1927: the “real” filmmaker should “divest cinema of all elements not particular to it, to seek its true essence in the consciousness of movement and visual rhythms.”


2013 ◽  
Vol 10 (3) ◽  
pp. 563-583 ◽  
Author(s):  
Laraine Porter

Referencing a range of sources from personal testimonies, diaries, trade union reports and local cinema studies, this chapter unearths the history of women musicians who played to silent film. It traces the pre-history of their entry into the cinema business through the cultures of Edwardian female musicianship that had created a sizeable number of women piano and violin teachers who were able to fill the rapid demand created by newly built cinemas around 1910. This demand was further increased during the First World War as male musicians were called to the Front and the chapter documents the backlash from within the industry against women who stepped in to fill vacant roles. The chapter argues that women were central to creating the emerging art-form of cinema musicianship and shaping the repertoire of cinema music during the first three decades of the twentieth century. With the coming of sound, those women who had learned the cinema organ, in the face of considerable snobbery, were also well placed to continue musical careers in Cine-Variety during the 1930s and beyond. This article looks particularly at the careers of Ena Baga and Florence de Jong who went on to play for silent films until the 1980s.


Author(s):  
Ross Schnioffsky ◽  
Richard Thompson

John Wayne’s film career began in Hollywood silent films in the late 1920s and, in one sense, ended in 1976—a half-century later—with his last film, Don Siegel’s The Shootist (1976). Wayne died three years later, having become not only an actor, but also a film director and the head of his own production company. By then he had also become a major cultural figure, a carrier of myth, an icon of a certain Americanness, and this iconic status continues today; he and his work continue to be cited, commented upon, analyzed, and evaluated, as this article documents. He acted in different genres but became identified mainly with two: the Western (he spent the 1930s making quickie B Westerns) and, with the advent of World War II, military and quasi-military films. When this identification began, those genres were generally dismissed as sophomoric and were not taken seriously; with the rise of serious film studies in the 1960s and 1970s in Europe and North America, these genres and Wayne’s contribution to them became valued. After World War II, as the hegemony of the major studios began to fade, Wayne was one of the first actors to form his own independent production company, which eventually became Batjac Productions. He had always learned everything he could on set about all aspects of filmmaking. As an actor, Wayne was a thoughtful craftsman from early in his career (something overlooked by commentators until much later). In the postwar period, he chose roles that increasingly complicated his characters—retaining his earlier outward strength and independence, but now adding a very dark, sometimes tragic set of contradictions, first, in Red River (1948) and then The Searchers (1956), The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1961), and other films. The rise of authorship criticism enhanced this acknowledgment, emphasizing his long collaboration with John Ford and his key films with Howard Hawks. His acting performances began to attract serious attention: Writers began to investigate Wayne’s representation of masculinity, including his characters’ relations to both male and female sexuality. From the late 1940s, Wayne, now a major public figure, became politically active, first, in the anticommunist days of the Hollywood blacklist and, later, in other conservative causes (e.g., the Vietnam War). His controversial public political stances became a separate issue, overshadowing his other work. Wayne’s work continues to be justified by the amount of writing currently devoted to it.


Author(s):  
Julie Brown

This chapterexamines questions about musical scores of silent films. It highlights the ephemeralityof exhibition practices for the silent film and describes the reconstruction and exhibition of “special scores” composed for individual films. It discusses the main objectives for undertaking a project to resynchronize a “special score” with a silent film and identifies the elements of an “edition” of a silent film score that could have meaning in various forms.


2020 ◽  
Vol 12 (1) ◽  
pp. 61-77 ◽  
Author(s):  
Claus Tieber ◽  
Anna K. Windisch

Martin Marks holds an almost unique position to talk about silent film music: he is a scholarly musician and musical scholar. Besides his canonical book on the history of silent film music (1997), he has been playing piano accompaniments for silent films regularly for nearly four decades. In this interview we asked Martin about the challenges and complexities of choosing and creating music to accompany musical numbers in silent cinema. Martin relates how he detects musical numbers and he expounds his decision-making process on how to treat them. His explanations are interspersed with engaging examples from his practical work and based on both his scholarly knowledge and on his musical intelligence. He talks about the use of pre-existing music as well as about anachronisms in choosing music written many decades after a film was first released. In sum, this interview delivers detailed and informed insights into the difficulties and pleasures of accompanying musical numbers or other types of diegetic music in silent cinema.


2018 ◽  
Vol 2 (2) ◽  
pp. 70-88
Author(s):  
Catherine Morris

This creative essay examines how visual culture and Alice Milligan’s re-animation of the Tableaux as a radical form of theatre practice operated as a link between ideas of national culture and revolutionary feminism in Ireland. But the tableaux had other elective affinities too. Theatre, photography and the magic lantern were the most immediately obvious of these; but cinema and art installation are by now also recognizably among them. The moving cinematic image is in fact a series of still pictures which give the effect of movement. As silent films became more popular in Ireland in the early years of the twentieth century they were called ‘living pictures’, the name also used to describe tableaux. But even in the era of the early silent film, directors often suspended action to jolt the viewer into another interpretative realm. We see this in Griffith’s 1909 film A Corner in Wheat — where a shot of a bread queue looks like the film has stopped. Early photography was vital to Alice Milligan’s practice: she raised funds for the first magic lantern for the Gaelic League (first used in Donegal); travelled the country taking photographs of people and sites; projected glass slides as part of community tableaux shows; and Maud Gonne’s early play Dawn uses 3 of her tableaux. During the 1897 royal visit to Dublin, James Connolly, Milligan and Maud Gonne used a magic lantern to project onto Dublin’s city walls photographs of famine that they had witnessed in the west of Ireland.


Author(s):  
Julie K. Allen

This chapter examines how Nordic silent films circulated as far away from Scandinavia as in Australia. This far-flung distribution chain was facilitated and hampered by political and economic developments on both sides of the globe. In the 1910s, the Copenhagen-based Nordisk Film Company was the second largest exporter of films in the world. Distributed primarily by Pathé Frérès and Nordisk, Swedish and Danish silent films played to great success all over the continent of Australia. Early Nordic stars, in particular Asta Nielsen and Valdemar Psilander, were beloved. As products of neutral countries, Danish and Swedish films continued to circulate internationally during the war. By the time silent film was rendered obsolete by sound film, the distribution of Nordic film in the Pacific was largely a thing of the past. The chapter reconstructs the circulation of these films from remaining traces including newspapers of the period


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