Underworld (1927) |
3 SILENT CLASSICS BY JOSEF VON STERNBERG
UNDERWORLD (1927), THE LAST COMMAND (1928),
THE DOCKS OF NEW YORK (1928)
Criterion Collection, Blu-ray, Release Date Oct 15, 2019
Review by Christopher S. Long
The adjective “poetic” was attached
to Josef von Sternberg from the very start of his directorial career,
a potential death sentence for an aspiring Hollywood filmmaker. But
little about von Sternberg's career was typical.
The plucky teen immigrant (born in
Vienna in 1894, emigrated with his family to New York in 1901)
dropped out of high school and worked a series of odd jobs,
eventually finding his way into film in the pre-Hollywood movie mecca
of Fort Lee, NJ where he learned how to splice, edit, write, operate
a camera, and virtually every phase of filmmaking. After a few
returns to Europe and a stint in the U.S. Army, von Sternberg
relocated to Hollywood where he continued to hone his craft in
various supporting capacities.
He impressed many in the industry with
his vast knowledge of the craft of filmmaking, but he wasn't content
to methodically climb the ladder of success. He launched a bold
attempt to spring directly into the director's chair, shooting a
micro-budget independent film called “The Salvation Hunters”
(1925). Praised for its “poetic” qualities and evocative imagery
it naturally flopped, but generated buzz all around town and drew
attention from no less a luminary than Charlie Chaplin.
Chaplin was impressed by von
Sternberg's ability to communicate both story and character
psychology in images, and tapped von Sternberg to direct a project
for him, though not one in which The Tramp would act. Chaplin was
apparently dissatisfied with the result (though he made no public
comment) and chose not to release the picture. This would have proved
a debilitating setback for many ambitious up-and-comers but the
resourceful von Sternberg (the regal “von” was added by a
Hollywood publicist, by the way) bounced back quickly.
Within a year, von Sternberg grabbed
hold of an unexpected opportunity to direct another film, a gangster
picture from a script by the hard-boiled journalist Ben Hecht. Hecht
was by far the biggest name attached to the project, but that didn't
stop von Sternberg from doing a major rewrite, enraging Hecht who
initially demanded his name be removed from the film. Hecht was
presumably more sanguine when he received the first-ever Oscar for
Best Writing on an Original Picture.
In “Underworld” (1927), George
Bancroft plays Bull Weed (I like to think his little brother's name
is Dick), a boorish bank robber and gangster who runs into a drunk
(Clive Brook) during one of his heists and arbitrarily takes it upon
himself to redeem the man, now dubbed Rolls Royce. Bull sets up Rolls
with some cash and his own apartment and darn if he doesn't clean up
nice. Maybe too nice, as Rolls begins to draw the attention of Bull's
lovely girlfriend, Feathers (Evelyn Brent).
It's a pulpy story with seemingly stock
characters, but one of the hallmarks of the three films in this set
is the surprising nuance with which even minor characters are imbued.
Bull is a brute and a loudmouth – even in a silent film you can
hear the beefy Bancroft bellowing – but during a protracted scene
where he waits to kill a friend in a jealous fit of rage, he stops to
feed a kitten by dipping his finger in a milk bottle and letting the
kitten lick the drops. Feathers is named for her fondness for wearing
feathered boas, but she turns out to be more than just a kitschy
gangster's moll when she torments herself over whether to pursue her
own happiness or loyalty to a man who helped rescue her from the
streets.
“Underworld” turned into a surprise
hit with theaters forced to add midnight showings to accommodate
demand. It is frequently given credit for kicking off the craze in
gangster films, though it's difficult to pinpoint its influence that
directly. It certainly made stars of the three leads as well as of
von Sternberg, the former boy genius of “Salvation Hunters” now
all grown up into a top-line Hollywood powerhouse.
He followed up his break-out with
another hit, “The Last Command” (1928), featuring the
Swiss-German star Emil Jannings as an aging, enfeebled Hollywood
extra cast to play the part of a Russian general in a picture about
the Russian Revolution. Shaking with essential tremor, he tells his
fellow extras he really was a Russian general, a claim they greet
with open mockery, but an extended flashback reveals that he was
telling the truth.
Or at least his truth. “The Last
Command” (story by Lajos Biro) nests illusions within illusions
like a Matryoshka doll, beginning with the opening title cards
proclaiming “Hollywood – 1928! The Magic Empire of the Twentieth
Century!” Jannings' character is cast to play a general in a movie
that no doubt relates, a phony, sanitized version of Russian history,
but surely his memory of events told in flashback are just as biased
and divorced from reality. When he finally gets to the film set and
is asked to pretend to be a general, his potentially fatal mistake is
to treat the process as far too real.. Jannings (later a Nazi
collaborator, but at this point in time just admired as a great
actor) is sensational, a portly, blustering special effect in his own
right, and he would win the first-ever Best Actor Oscar. Von
Sternberg's mark was all over that inaugural Award ceremony.
In “The Docks of New York” (1928),
released just at the end of the silent era, von Sternberg reunited
with George Bancroft, who plays Bill, a ship's stoker on leave for
one night in New York. He falls for dance-hall girl Mae (Betty
Compson) and has to decide which siren call plays loudest for him,
the open sea on his next job or the love of a good woman. Hyper-macho
Bancroft is utterly convincing as the sweaty, coal-stained stoker who
spends all his time around other sweaty, coal-stained men and
therefore has no idea how to act around women except in the most
straightforward, obvious way (I'm talking sex, people!) But maybe
he's enough of a man to learn.
Those trademark character touches
create more special moments. Witness the scene where a very impressed
Mae ogles Bill's bulging, tattoed forearms with undisguised lust. Or
how a seemingly minor supporting player, an ill-treated wife (Olga
Baclanova), suddenly takes center stage from Bill and Mae, living out
the aphorism that everyone sees themselves as the main character of
the story.
Von Sternberg's poetic leanings are on
full display in all three films. The heavy chiaroscuro design of “The
Docks of New York” (cinematography by Harold Rosson) transforms a
single night ashore into a moody character in its own right. Harsh
beams of solid light knife through inky blackness, sometimes from
lampposts above, sometimes from indoor spaces that erupt into the
nighttime outside, promising sanctuary or perhaps threatening a
different brand of meance. In other shots, a curtain of hazy,
smoke-filled light blankets the background, sealing the docks off
from the rest of the world.
Many scenes in these films possess that
same hermetic quality. Von Sternberg has a knack for creating secret
spaces, faerie ring subcultures that exist only for a moment in time.
“Underworld” presents the Gangster's Ball where all the criminals
set aside their quarrels for a night of hard-drinking camaraderie. In
“The Last Command” a doomed train rumbles through the Russian
night, its passengers oblivious to their fate. In “The Docks of New
York” the denizens of a seedy bar unite to celebrate a wedding in
their own unique style: “One of us! One of us!”
Von Sternberg was at his creative peak
and made a seamless transition into the talking picture era, most
famously in his films with Marlene Dietrich, starting with “The
Blue Angel” (1930). His directorial career would begin to decline
by the end of the 1930s and curtailed significantly after World War
II. The three films in this set alone are enough to explain why Josef
von Sternberg is regarded as a great and true one-of-a-kind artist.
Video:
The films are presented in their
original 1.33:1 aspect ratio. I don't own the original 2010 DVD
release as a comparison point, but reviews indicate that those were
presented in a picture-boxed format which provided a slim black
border around the image that was designed so it would look OK on
older TV sets. Never mind that. Picture-boxing is dead, and these new
high-def transfers are not picture-boxed. The 2K high-def transfers
all look fairly strong to me, especially “The Docks of New York”
which relies so heavily on chiaroscuro lighting – the
black-and-white contrast needs to look sharp and it does.
Audio:
Each of the three silent films in this
Criterion boxed set offers listeners the option of two different
scores. Robert Israel provided new scores for each movie that were
composed specifically for the original 2010 Criterion DVD release of
this set. “Underworld” and “The Last Command” also arrive
with scores by the Alloy Orchestra, scores composed for festival
screenings in the late 2000s. “The Docks of New York” also has a
Donald Sosin score that debuted in 2008.
The LPCM mono mix treats all the scores
quite well, providing robust, enjoyable listening experiences for all
of them. Audio on the extras is solid as well.
Extras:
This Criterion boxed set includes three
separate keepcases which are stored in an outer cardboard case, with
the square-bound insert booklet tucked alongside the discs. Each film
is on a separate Blu-ray in each keepcase.
The extras are relatively modest in
this set. All extras are copied from the old 2010 DVD set and no
extras have been added for this Blu-ray re-release.
On the “Underworld” disc, we get a
2010 video essay (36 min.) by UCLA film professor Janet Bergstrom.
It's jam-packed with information about von Sternberg's early career,
and the unusual path he took to directing his break-out gangster hit.
Bergstrom finds a way to pack a few hours worth of information into a
fairly short running time.
On “The Last Command” we get a 2010
video essay (35 min.) by Tag Gallagher titled “Von Sternberg 'Til
1929” which covers what the title indicates. Gallagher provides
more stylistic analysis, tracing out common motifs and themes in all
three films included in this set. Because of that, you might not want
to watch this until you've seen “The Docks of New York.”
On “The Docks of New York” disc, we
get a 40-minute interview with von Sternberg that originally aired on
Swedish television in 1968, just a year before the director's death.
Von Sternberg wasn't always the most reliable narrator of his own
career, but he's always an engaging speaker.
The thick, square-bound insert booklet
is attractively designed. It's also loaded, starting with separate
essays about each film, by author Geoffrey O'Brien (“Underworld”),
film professor Anton Kaes (“The Last Command”) and critic Luc
Sante (“The Docks of New York”). The booklet also includes Ben
Hecht's original story for “Underworld” as well as a short essay
about the film scores included here, and an excerpt from von
Sternberg's autobiography concerning working with Emil Jannings.
Final Thoughts:
Fans spoiled by Criterion's jam-packed
“Dietrich and Von Sternberg in Hollywood” boxed set from last
year might find this Blu-ray upgrade of the old 2010 set somewhat
lacking by comparison. Each film is only accompanied by a single
extra, but we still get two scores for each movie and the movies
themselves are pretty great, which is more than enough to recommend
this set.
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