Film Spectator (1927-1928)

Page Four February 5, 1927 sidered as a group, they are the greatest contribution ever made to the advancement of that art. From th« flambouyant treatment of the passionate story in Variety, the theatrical use of the camera, consistent with the tending of a theatrical story; to the lofty and inspired treatment of the Faust story, rising to sublime heights to match the majesty of the theme, covers an extraordinary range of expression and fixes the place of the screen among the high arts. Pommer came to Hollywood to make pictures for Famous Players-Lasky, a company in a position to have given him all the intellectual and technical co-operation that a combing of the world would bring to light. Hampered as he was in Europe by the necessity of keeping within the financial restrictions of his organization, he made a record unequalled by any other producer in the world; unhampered in this country he could rise to greater heights and lend still further dignity to screen art. Will he be unhampered? In the answer to that question lies the reason why Erich Pommer is the most interesting man in pictures. That he was hampered is the only possible construction to put on his break with Paramount. » ♦ Can Our System Assimilate Genius? Motion pictures are organized in this country so that it is difficult for a definite personality to register itself. Many times in The Spectator I have recorded my high opinion of B. P. Schulberg as a producer, and certainly he is one of the finest fellows in the business. He it is under whom Pommer was working in this country. I know of no American who has a better picture mind that Schulberg, but he is part of the American system of making pictures, a multiple mind system that robs productions of all individuality. An American system that does not permit an American unhampered expression on the screen scarcely will readjust itself to grant the privilege to a foreigner. Several times I have charged the industry with an inability to learn by experience. I believe Pommer’s success abroad will mean nothing to Hollywood. He was induced to come here on account of his extraordinary achievements in Germany under a certain system, and was expected to duplicate those achievements under another system that was forced on him. His presence here puts on trial our method of making pictures. Can this method assimilate a real artist and allow such artist to express himself ? I doubt it. If Pommer’s American-made pictures do not possess the merit of those he made in Germany it will be our system’s fault, for the six pictures that I enumerated in the preceding paragraph remove any doubt of his ability. We have several one-picture men in this country, but none who has turned out six which have arrested the attention of the world. Pommer has supervised two pictures here. Hotel Imperial and Barbed Wire, both starring Pola Negri. The former is the better motion picture, but the latter will have greater audience appeal. While both will rank among the foremost pictures of the year, neither comes up to the standard set by The Last Laugh, Variety or Faust. They do not possess the same artistic appeal as the German-made ones and will not be regarded as such valuable contributions to screen art. But in the two, in which he had the assistance of such capable directors as Mortiz Stiller and Rowland Lee, Pommer reveals to us again the brilliancy of Pola Negri as an actress. That much he has done, something that American directors without his supervision have been unable to do in the years that have elapsed between the arrivals of Pola and Pommer in this country. He also has made his two pictures notable for the pictorial excellence that characterized those which he made abroad. That both of them would have been better pictures if he had been allowed the same freedom he enjoyed in Germany seems a reasonable presumption. * * * One That Pommer Made in Hollywood Barbed wire is a succession of beautiful scenes, exquisite works of art such as Pommer always uses in telling his stories. Bert Glennon’s camera work reaches the high degree of excellence he achieved in Hotel Imperial. The lighting is particularly effective and Rowland Lee is to be commended for his sense of composition. The direction all the way through is masterly. One sequence is particularly notable for its depth of human appeal. It opens with a shot showing the German and French soldiers fraternizing in No Man’s Land, the spell of the Christmas spirit blotting out animosities engendered by the war. Later we see how the prison camp celebrates Christmas, the whole sequence being handled in an impressive manner. The story of Barbed Wire is an adaptation by Jules Furthman of Hall Caine’s “A Woman of Knockelow”. The original is a story of an English girl falling in love with a German incarcerated in a prison camp on the Isle of Man. The picture places the camp in France and makes the girl French, keeping Pola Negri more in character, as there is nothing about her to suggest the English. She gives a remarkable performance, responding nobly to Lee’s direction. Pola is a superb actress. The story sags in the middle, probably due more to faulty editing than to any weakness in the story itself. There is nothing the matter with the scenes, for there is not a poorly presented sequence in the whole production, but for perhaps a reel there is little to hold the interest of an audience which derives its entertainment from the story and none from beautiful scenes capably directed. Undoubtedly a great deal of thought was expended on the ending, and while I did not like it, I can not suggest how it could have been improved. Inherently the ending has great strength. Her neighbors are incensed at the French girl for declaring her love for the German, splendidly played by Clive Brook, who is ideal in the part, and are on the point of driving her from home when her brother, blinded in the war, appears. The physically sightless man is the only one who can see the folly of the senseless antagonism, and he makes a long speech, broken into several titles, that are good propaganda, but poor motion picture entertainment. It makes the ending drag. But the picture as a whole is a splendid example of screen art, notwithstanding its few deficiencies, and demonstrates the wisdom of Paramount’s action in securing the great picture mind of Erich Pommer to supervise its foreign players, and the folly of not retaining him to continue it. Clyde Cooke plays a comedy party in a manner that makes it one of the big features of the picture. Those splendid artists, Claude Gillingwater and Gustav von Seyffertitz contribute perfect performances, and Einar Hanson, as Pola’s brother, adds to the