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thomas-hamilton65
Reviews
La mille et deuxième nuit (1933)
Mosjoukine's second talkie
Ivan Mosjoukine plays a heroic soldier to the despotic Caliph who becomes disillusioned with his treatment of the slaves in his kingdom and fights to free them.
Similar to plot lines in previous Wolkof-Mosjoukine collaborations the difference with this film is that it was produced in 1932 and therefore has synchronised dialogue, something of a challenge to the film-makers since Mosjoukine, one of the biggest silent stars, spoke very little French and even when learning lines phonetically had a marked Russian accent.
In Sergent X this issue was elided by casting him as an immigrant, learning the language as the picture progressed. However, whilst this worked well as a one off, it couldn't be done on every film.
So in his second talkie Mosjoukine's character appears as a somewhat exotic outsider, a man of action and few words. During his initial escape from the Caliph, he dives off a cliff into the sea and is rescued by a young fisherman, who becomes his compatriot and gets to do some of Mosjoukine's talking for him. The court of the Caliph also gets a great deal of the dialogue and there's a surprising musical number midway through the action. Interestingly Mosjoukine's real life wife Nathalie Lissenko appears as his love interest in this, and like her husband speaks relatively little.
The film plays like an old fashioned English pantomime, with exaggerated villains and fawning underlings very much in the Chu Chin Chow mould. It's pleasant, expensive, occasionally exciting, with dazzling bejewelled costumes by Boris Blintsky and must've seemed completely irrelevant in a period when Renoir, Clare, and Pagnol were rapidly approaching their best work.
Mosjoukine, is still very effective in his scenes, and particularly so in a climactic duel to the death with the Caliph. When he does speak, his voice is resonant and authoritative - and to a non French speaker like myself his speech sounds remarkably clear. However since there's so much for the film to show with a musical number, scenes of slave auctions and villainous plotting from the Caliph, Mosjoukine is quite often off screen.
I'm not sure how this film fared at the box office. It was released in an original French version and also a dubbed and slightly re-shot English version both of which I have viewed. Since Mosjoukine immediately moved on to two disastrous talkie remakes of his silent hits "Casanova" and "Enfant d'Carnival" - neither of which I've seen at the time of writing - one can only assume his box office draw was slipping.
The English version which I saw first is interesting for a few unrelated reasons. Of the French cast only Mosjoukine is billed in the credits and all the voices are dubbed by English actors who are credited with their respective parts. Mosjoukine's voice double is particularly inappropriate, supplied by Jack Livesey, brother to Roger. His voice is much too light and prissily English for the darkly glowering Mosjoukine.
The French version which I only saw in the last few weeks features some casual nudity - some of the slaves are topless in the slave auction scene (they are discretely veiled in the English version.) and the duel scene at the end is slightly longer but otherwise it's identical.
Der weiße Teufel (1930)
Final Silent Flourish for the Great Mosjoukine
During the early to mid 1920's Russian émigré Ivan Mosjoukine rose to great prominence as the preeminent star of French silent cinema, not only a popular draw at the box office but an exceptionally expressive and charismatic actor, who could flourish in both art-house and mainstream cinema.
Such was his stardom that in 1926 Abel Gance's first choice for the title role in Napoleon was none other than Mosjoukine - who whilst flattered could not commit to the lengthy production. Instead Mosjoukine starred in Michel Strogoff and Casanova, two vehicles which whilst less well known today were considerable box office successes at the time.
However after the second of these Mosjoukine made a major career misstep when, with a Universal contract, he left France for what he hoped would be Hollywood stardom. However only one film came from this, "Surrender", which, although interesting and well made, totally failed to establish him as a viable US attraction. Returning to Europe, his standing there had declined somewhat and he struggled to reestablish himself.
White Devil was the last of 5 German & Italian vehicles and might well have returned the actor to his former stature, were it not for a technical revolution that was sweeping through the industry.
For this film is the first of Mosjoukine's to include a synchronised soundtrack. The film boasts an effective score - with compiled elements and original music by Michael Lewin, Marc Roland & Willy Schmidt-Gentner - some sequences of singing and whistling, and a range of sound effects... but no dialogue.
It's likely that the film was initially shot silent then retrofitted with sound in order to make it more attractive in a rapidly changing market. As such it comes off very well, with an exciting and action packed plot and a meaty role for it's expressive and versatile star.
Mosjoukine stars as a fiery Caucasian captain Hadscht Murat who quarrels with his leader (initially over a perceived insult to the leader's daughter and then more seriously over the fate of some prisoners) and apparently defects to fight for the despotic Czar Nicolai I (Fritz Alberti) and becomes involved with Neidowa (played by Lil Dagover - beautiful but rather wasted in a smallish part)
Hoping to use Murat as a go-between in his plans to conquer the Caucasus, the Czar ruler finds that our hero is not so easily manipulated. Rescuing Neidowa from the Czar's clutches, Murat leads a people's revolt against the despotic regent.
Alexandre Wolkof directs with great style and visual flare in a film that represents the European silent tradition at it's finest and most dynamic. This has some wonderfully atmospheric cinematography - right up there with Sunrise & Docks of New York. Mosjoukine himself gives a moving and potent performance as the noble Murat and the film ranks amongst his best,
SPOILERS AHEAD
In this, the 7th of 9 collaborations between writer/director Wolkof and Mosjoukine, Mosjoukine's character again suffers a protracted - and in this case violent - on-screen death. It's quite a sight as he takes volley after volley of gunfire from the enemy hordes - disdainfully dispatching two or three of the more foolhardy soldiers, before his own men come to the rescue and rush to the side of the apparently dead Murat, who nevertheless rouses himself for a final ride home. In other hands this scene could have been laughable but Mosjoukine plays it with such passion and conviction that any laughter is stilled.
Perhaps it was the material or perhaps it was from a sense that an era was coming to an end but the final scene, with Murat's child and new love gathered round the dying hero ranks as one of his most powerful moments on screen, with an especially touching fade out as the sun sets and the light fades from Murat's eyes. No more eloquent comment could have been made on Mosjoukine's own subsequent decline.
NB - The film boasts some interesting credited and uncredited participants who would go on to great things:
Michael Powell, not credited, was apparently the stills photographer on this, two years before his first quota quickie as a director.
Peter Lorre also apparently appears in this, although having watched the movie a number of times I've yet to spot him.
One who is credited is Anatole Litvak who would go on to have a great career in Hollywood in the 30's and 40's.
Another interesting credit is the 11 year old child actor Kenneth Rive who plays Murat's son. Rive would grow up to become one of the most important distributor's of European Art Cinema in the UK, introducing the works of Bergman, Truffaut & Goddard to English speaking audiences. Many years later, David Robinson would screen White Devil for the now 80 year old Rive, and it was apparently a touching moment - the child on screen and the old man with a still unlined face watching as he acted opposite a cinema legend.
Le sergent X (1932)
Mosjoukine's first Talkie is better than expected
Viewed at the Archive Francaise in the Bois D'Arcy outside of Paris several years ago.
One of the greatest stars in French cinema during the preceding 12 years, and the initial choice of Abel Gance for Napoleon, Ivan Mosjoukine faced a new and difficult challenge in Sergeant X. In this film Mosjoukine, a Russian who had never mastered the French language, would be required to speak on screen for the first time.
The same situation had already occurred with a number of well regarded European actors in Hollywood films eg Emil Jannings, Conrad Veidt & Lars Hanson. In each of these cases the actors in question returned to their native countries and continued their careers either permanently (or in the case of Veidt) until their English had improved enough to permit their return. However this was not an option that was open to Mosjoukine - an Russian expatriate who left shortly after the revolution and then spurned later invites to return.
Sergent X was therefore an attempt to accommodate the non French speaking Mosjoukine in a French speaking (and presumably German speaking in that version) role. Cleverly the film makers have Mosjoukine play newly arrived immigrant Jean Renault, whose words of French come from a phrase book he carries. Mosjoukine could then learn and speak his few lines phonetically. This was a method that worked well for such famous stars as Bela Lugosi (an actor bearing a strong facial resemblance to Mosjoukine).
The film begins with Jean, having been separated from his wife, Olga, who was with child when he last saw her, arriving at her Paris apartment, having traced her after years searching. He hesitantly asks the maid when her mistress will return and is asked to wait. However as he waits he sees the photograph of a man in uniform - Chardin - and discovers from a note left on her dresser that Olga has remarried.
Renault flees the apartment before Olga returns. With a broken heart, he does what all forlorn lovers do and joins the Foreign legion to forget. He is assigned to a remote outpost in Africa and there becomes Private X, an anonymous legionnaire who manages to lose himself in the discipline and camaraderie there. (During these scenes his French gradually improves.)
One day a new captain arrives at the outpost. Jean recognises the Captain as Chardin. With Chardin is his wife Olga and their young son, who Jean realises is his own.
Much soul searching results for Jean. Should he announce his identity to Olga and his son, or should he take a potentially suicidal mission to save the fort from marauding Arabs.
Not perhaps the most original plot line but it serves well for Mosjoukine's talkie debut. Given the long hesitation before filming took place Sergent X suffers from little of the early talkie static qualities that impeded the efforts of others. Indeed Sergent X is a polished and well shot vehicle, with an atmospheric desert setting, an exhilarating burst of rapid fire editing early in the proceedings and some good action photography in the climactic scenes. There are plenty of seductive camera moves to keep the film full of motion and on a technical level the film is fully on a par with Hollywood films of this time (late '31).
The story allows Mosjoukine plenty of opportunities for the sort of expressive visual acting he did so well in his silents. And where he does have to speak the film makers employ a number of techniques to aid him. In the bigger action scenes his dialogue consists of no more than a few words here and there (perfectly believable given his character's lack of English) In the final scenes where his French has improved to the point where he can converse the sequence is broken up into a series of staccato close ups - justified by the dramatic nature of the sequence.
Some sequences are poignant and perhaps a little cruel, for example the scene where Jean tries to speak to his son, but the little boy can't understand him. (Ironically as someone who has a poor command of French and had to watch this film in an unsubtitled print I found Mosjoukine's sharp and clearly pronounced speech easier to follow than most of the native French actors)
Mosjoukine gives a fine performance, his eyes glowing with a soulful pain we've never seen before and unlike some silent actors his voice sounds as we would expect. With a credible and well designed part we don't sense any real problems. However with the main character in a state of existential gloom for over half of the film there's little of the variety of moods Mosjoukine normally displays - in fact he seems like a stereotypically morose Russian. (My wife asked whether Mosjoukine was always like this)
At a certain point I also began to wonder if Mosjoukine's character would ever pull out of his torpor. Fortunately he did and the film ends on a more upbeat note with the newly promoted Sergent X marching his men off to the next fort.
Overall a good vehicle for the star - though a little less suffering might have helped it as a film. Apparently this was reasonably successful at the box office. Mosjoukine had survived the transition. However since his character couldn't learn French in every film the real problem had still to be tackled.
Ivan Mosjoukine ou L'enfant du carnaval (1998)
Fine Documentary
Now virtually forgotten, but once an internationally renowned star, Ivan Mosjoukine finally gets the recognition he deserves in this marvellously detailed documentary.
One of the first major figures in early Russian cinema, Ivan Mosjoukine gave remarkable performances in early versions of "Queen of Spades" and "Father Sergius" (completely convincing as he ages from 16 to 80).
However with the Russian Revolution Mosjoukine and his collaborators were forced to flee to France. Setting up film production in their new home this diverse group of artists made a great contribution to the film industry there, revitalising it with innovative new styles and the charismatic acting (and directing) of the multi-talented Mosjoukine. A decade later Mosjoukine would struggle with French dialogue in his few starring talkies but in the universal language of 1920's cinema this wasn't a problem and he became one of the great Silent Movie stars.
This does a very good job of covering the entire film career of Mosjoukine, with dozens of clips from his earliest ("House of Koloma") through the great French silents, then his unsuccessful attempt to conquer Hollywood (only one film resulted) and finally his struggles with dialogue - not so apparent to non French speakers - in the early sound era to his final film role ("Nichevo").
The film makers can't be faulted for the detail with which they approach his evolution as an actor and there is a great deal of information about his - sometimes less than admirable - private life. The film makers have even managed to interview former colleagues and friends - remarkable considering this was made 60 years after his death.
The only minor flaw with this is that the narrative sometimes goes out of sequence - jumping from a point in the mid twenties to a much earlier stage in Mosjoukine's life. However this is clearly intentional on the film maker's part and doesn't really hurt the documentary as a whole.
All in an extremely impressive piece of work, clearly a labour of love for those involved, though it would be nice to get an English narrated version (since the current English subtitles are on the small side).
Highly recommended
Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter (1968)
Charming and likable 60's curio
I'd never heard of this film before TCM started screening it as a late night filler - and initially woke up in the middle of it when Holloway and co were singing the poignant and totally unexpected The World is for the Young. I actually couldn't get the song out of my head for several days.
After that I kept stumbling across bits of it on different screenings and each time I said to my wife "I kinda like this movie" Tonight I finally managed to watch it from the start and although as a film it doesn't really amount to much it's such a good natured, sweet and enjoyably off kilter movie that it just makes me feel good to see it.
I wanted to see what other people thought and it seems a few reviewers do get it - whereas some others seem to get strangely vindictive and offended.
Yes it's completely out of jaunt with it's year and the Hermits were anachronisms by 1968 but Peter No one (I tried to make his surname come out correct) is perfectly fine in the lead, the supporting cast is great, the brightly coloured widescreen is a pleasure to the eyes.
Guilty pleasure or not I've really warmed to this.