This towering cinematic achievement is easily one of the greatest examples of silent era hokum that I have ever experienced. Joseph Schildkraut and Norma Talmadge are star-crossed lovers in Northern Africa wearing very silly clothes. I am entranced.
Welcome to a new variation of After the Silents, in which I examine the careers of silent movie personnel in the sound era. For this outing, I’m going to be periodically sharing my reviews of Twilight Zone episodes that feature veterans of the silent era. Today’s guest of honor is a personal favorite of mine: Joseph Schildkraut.
A rare chance to see father-son acting dynamos Rudolph and Joseph Schildkraut share the screen in a Hollywood production. Joseph plays a wastrel prince while Rudolph plays his equally dissolute father, the king of a small kingdom in Central Europe.
After a very long hiatus, video reviews are back! You have probably learned by now that I adore kitsch and I will be reviewing one of the zaniest, kitschiest films of the silent era: Cecil B. DeMille’s The Road to Yesterday.
Bessie Love is an American college girl who discovers that she is the heiress to a fortune in an obscure little kingdom. While enjoying a last fling in Paris before her inevitable arranged marriage, she runs in Joseph Schildkraut, who is also enjoying a last fling in Paris before his inevitable arranged marriage. I wonder what will come of this.
Continue reading “Young April (1926) A Silent Film Review”
“So as I was saying…. hello? Hello? That’s it…”
Cecil B. DeMille’s first feature from his shiny new studio, The Road to Yesterday is the epic tale of two couples, marital strife, a fiery train wreck, flappers, ministers and a touch of time travel. You know, keeping things simple. It is also notable as the film that started William “Hopalong Cassidy” Boyd on his path to stardom.
This scene cracked me up so much! It’s from The Road to Yesterday, a spectacularly cheesy DeMille film from 1925. Vera Reynolds is on the run from Joseph Schildkraut (it’s a long story) and he does not like to be ignored. The look on Schildkraut’s face is just so perfect for the scene. Can’t put my finger on it but I never was very good at analyzing the why’s of funny.
I would like to say that this is one reason why I wish canes, walking sticks, scepters, riding crops and the like would come back in style for daily use. Think of all the mischief you can cause with one of these things!
Status: 35mm prints held by The Library of Congress and the Czech Film Archive.
The Song of Love is one of those films that is more famous for what went on behind the camera. First, there was drama on the set. Joseph Schildkraut got most of the blame but I think he was just annoyed about being decked out in spit curls and ballet flats.
Anyway, news reports about the Talmadge-Schildkraut collaboration went from this:
But I still blame those spit curls.
Don’t worry about Mr. Schildkraut, by the way. He ended up just fine.
And the film was Frances Marion’s third and final attempt at breaking into directing. Marion was, of course, a popular and successful screenwriter. The first film she directed was The Love Light (which, for the record, I hated), starring Mary Pickford and Marion’s husband Fred Thomson. Marion was hit by a falling arc lamp while making The Song of Love and frequent Norma Talmadge collaborator Chester M. Franklin filled in while she recovered.
The scenario was adapted by Marion as well. Norma Talmadge’s character is named Noorma-hal. Noorma-hal. This is going to hurt, isn’t it? I wonder if any scenarios exist for Poola-hal Negri? Or Doorothy-hal Gish? Or Doouglas-hal Fairbanks?
Okay, I’ll stop.
The plot involves a dancing girl (Talmadge) who falls for an undercover French agent (Schildkraut). When a villainous rebel chieftain (Arthur Edmund Carewe) captures Mr. Schildkraut (spit curls and all), Miss Talmadge must spring into action to save the man she loves. All while (naturally) wearing teensy little costumes. Feminism!
Photoplay was mildly enthusiastic:
Norma Talmadge steps slightly out of character one always thinks of her as dignity incarnate to become Noorma-hal, a passionate, lovely dancing girl of the desert. Although a different Norma she is always charming, always warmly sympathetic. Torn between the faith of her ancestors and the love of a man who has confessed to being a spy, the girl is forced to tight a great battle with herself.
Variety less so:
Outside of Miss Talmadge there isn’t an awful lot to “The Song of Love.” It is another of those desert stories, the same type more or less that went out of fashion a little over a year ago as far as the big first-run houses were concerned, at any rate. There is a lot of sand, some of the sheik stuff, some hard riding and gunplay, and above all Norma slips through a dance.
Just because a film was written by a woman, directed by a woman, and starred a woman… well, that doesn’t make it feminist. This is a fact some film historians seem to ignore. However, while it doesn’t work as an empowerment film, it looks like there are other advantages to this movie. Frankly, it looks like a kitschy riot! Here’s hoping we get to see it soon!
Joseph Schildkraut (1896-1964)
Country of birth: Austria