Cento anni fà 6 – USA 1909 I: L'anno miracoloso di D.W. Griffith

A Hundred Years Ago 6 – USA 1909 I: The Miracle Year of D.W. Griffith.
Presentano Gian Luca Farinelli, Camille Blot-Wellens, Béatrice [Valbin-Constant?], Mariann Lewinsky. Grand piano: Gabriel Thibaudeau. Viewed in Bologna, Cinema Lumière 1, 30 June 2009

- The tribute to Griffith's annus mirabilis was sabotaged by the terrible quality of the prints. The original negatives exist at MoMA, but for some reason good prints of Griffith's films are rare.
- In 1909 Griffith directed 142 films. Quoting Tom Gunning's introductory text to the program: "Griffith had discovered the powers of parallel editing in 1908, but in 1909 he truly explored its diverse uses from suspense, to political commentary, to psychological exploration. But if editing supplied Griffith's major narrative tool, his attention to the image, to composition and lyrical beauty expanded as well."
- Griffith discovers the landscape as an image of the soul, "soulscape"

The Country Doctor. US 1909. D: D.W. Griffith. DP: Billy Bitzer; CAST: Frank Powell, Florence Lawrence, Mary Pickford, Linda Arvidson, Kate Bruce, Gladys Egan, Adele De Garde, Stephanie Longfellow; PC: Biograph. 35mm. 287 m. B&w. From: MoMA. - Ok print.
The Cricket on the Hearth. US 1909. D: D.W. Griffith. Based on the tale (1845) by Charles Dickens; DP: Billy Bitzer, Arthur Marvin; CAST: Charles Inslee, Owen Moore, Violet Mersereau, Herbert Prior, Linda Arvidson, Mack Sennett; PC: Biograph. 16mm. 73 m. B&w. [Announced: From: MoMA.] - From LoC paper print, titles missing, terrible print, incomprehensible without the titles, impossible to appreciate the visual quality.
Pippa Passes. US 1909. D: D.W. Griffith. Based on the poem by Robert Browning (1841); DP: Billy Bitzer, Arthur Marvin; CAST: Gertrude Robinson, George Nicholls, Adele De Garde, James Kirkwood, Mack Sennett, Tony O’Sullivan, Linda Arvidson; PC: Biograph. 16mm. 11’. From: LoC. - A terrible, scratched print based on a paper print, without titles, incomprehensible, impossible to appreciate the visual quality. - This story is famously based on the transforming power of music. As the pianist missed this idea completely, the live music was another obstruction to the reception of Griffith's film.
The Red Man’s View. US 1909. D: D.W. Griffith. DP: Billy Bitzer; CAST: James Kirkwood, Arthur Johnson, Owen Moore, Lottie Pickford, Alfred Paget, W. Chrystie Miller, Dorothy West, Kate Bruce; PC: Biograph. 35mm. 296 m. B&w. [Announced: From: MoMA.] - "Restored" by LoC, seemingly from a paper print, weak visual quality.

BEFORE THE LONELY VILLA

Before The Lonely Villa: tracking down the origins of the telephone thriller and alternating editing and crosscutting / parallel editing.
E-subtitles in Italian, grand piano: Stephen Horne, viewed at Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, Pordenone, Cinema Verdi, 8 October 2008.
The Lonely Villa. US 1909. PC: Biograph. D: D.W. Griffith; DP: G.W. Bitzer, Arthur Marvin; cast: David Miles (husband), Marion Leonard (wife), Mary Pickford (daughter), Gladys Egan, Adele De Garde, Owen Moore, Mack Sennett; 850 ft /16 fps/ 14 min; print: LoC. - Tom Gunning: "Mr. Cullison has responded to a false note telling him to meet his mother-in-law at the train station, and left his wife and daughters alone in their large country house. The note was sent by a gang of thieves to draw him out, and they have proceeded to burglarize the villa. The wife and daughters hear unexplained noises and discover the attempt to break into the house. At that very moment, the husband calls to say he has car trouble and learns of their plight. As he speaks to his wife, the burglars cut the telephone wires. Desperate, the husband enlists the aid of a policeman and, his car still out of commission, commandeers a gypsy wagon for a race to the rescue. Meanwhile, the burglars have broached the doorway and penetrated into the various rooms of the villa, and burst through the doors the wife has barricaded. They clear the last obstacle and are snatching the pearl necklace from Mrs. Cullison’s throat when the father arrives with the policeman and the family is saved." – Tom Gunning [DWG Project # 150]. - A brilliant image, no titles in this print.
Le Médecin du château / Der Arzt des Schlosses / The Physician of the Castle [GB] / A Narrow Escape [US]). FR 1908. PC: Pathé. D: ?; 367 ft /16 fps/ 6 min; print source: BFINA / Josef Joye Collection. Deutsche Titel (in the beginning?), English titles (in the end?). - Not a top print but from a source with a good definition of light. - Henri Bousquet: "Dr. Amy is unexpectedly called to the castle by a message delivered by an unknown person. No sooner has he left than two thieves break into his house. The doctor’s wife seeks refuge in the study; from there she calls her husband by telephone. She piles some furniture against the door, well knowing that this will only briefly keep out the malefactors. But on receiving the call the doctor has leapt into his car and returns home at full speed. On the way he meets two game-keepers and takes them along with him. They arrive just as the two bandits enter the office. After a brief struggle they capture the two villains.” – Henri Bousquet (Catalogue Pathé)
Terrible angoisse. FR 1906. PC: Pathé. D: Lucien Nonguet; 78 m /16 fps/ 4 min; print: AFF/CNC. - (Pathé catalogue supplement, March 1906): “A brilliant lawyer, on holiday, is suddenly called to the Palace of Justice. During his absence, burglars break into the house and the lawyer’s wife has only time to run to the telephone to call her husband. While she is telling him about the presence of the malefactors, they leap at her throat and strangle her, together with her little son. Hearing nothing from the other end of the phone line, the unhappy lawyer guesses what is happening, and, crazed with grief, rushes home; he throws himself upon the corpses of his beloved spouse and his child.” (Pathé catalogue supplement, March 1906). - AA: a soft image in this print (digimastered?).
The Watermelon Patch. US 1905. PC: Edison. D: Edwin S. Porter, Wallace McCutcheon [Sr.? Jr.?]; cast: Florence Auer?; 35mm, ?? ft., ?’ (16 fps); fonte copia/print source: Museum of Modern Art, New York. No intertitles. - André Gaudreault, Philippe Gauthier: "The Watermelon Patch contains one of the rare prototypes of cross-cutting (in early cinema). The film’s storyline can be summarized as follows: two whites chase a small group of blacks caught stealing watermelons from a field. The film’s action is so convoluted, and its narrative secondary to attraction to such a degree, that it is not easy to identify the alternating structure present in it. But this structure truly is present in the film, even if it is far from jumping out at us. Alternating editing is a discursive configuration whose minimal form is the recurrence of each term in two series. In other words, it is impossible to speak of alternating editing when only one of the terms recurs (A-B-A). At a minimum, it requires that each series recur (A-B-A-B). Cross-cutting, for its part, is only one of the forms of alternating editing within which series of events supposedly unfold simultaneously in the narrative universe suggested by the film. Thus, in our view, The Watermelon Patch is a true example of cross-cutting. (...) Here, then, is a film which demonstrates a degree of narrative planning and sophistication quite rare for 1905. It is the true prototype of cross-cutting, for which film historians of every generation have been searching for many years now. And it is the prototype of cross-cutting despite the fact that it is just as much a worthy representative of the paradigm of attraction." – André Gaudreault, Philippe Gauthier. - An important discovery in the research of alternating editing (montage alternant), and crosscutting or parallel editing (montage alterné) as illuminated in Gaudreault and Gauthier's essay in The Griffith Project 12 book. - Also a disturbingly racist film.

Potselui Meri Pikford

The Kiss of Mary Pickford. SU 1926. PC: Mezhrabpom-Rus / Sovkino. D: Sergei Komarov; SC: Sergei Komarov, Vadim Shershenevich; DP: Y. Alexeiev; AD: S. Kozlovsky, D. Kolupaev; AN: Y. Merkulov; cast: Igor Ilinsky (Goga Palkin), Anel Sudakevich (Dusia Galkina), Mary Pickford (herself), Douglas Fairbanks (himself), Vera Malinovskaya, Nikolai Rogozhin, M. Rosenstein, Abram Room, M. Rosenberg, N. Sisova, Y. Lenz, A. Glinsky; orig. l: 1715 m /2o fps/ 68 min; print: La Cineteca del Friuli (Fondo Gastone Predieri), duration of screening 60 min, Ukrainian intertitles with e-subtitles in English and Italian, grand piano: Günter A. Buchwald. Viewed at Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, Pordenone, Cinema Verdi, 6 October 2008. - The print of this Ukrainian version is not very good, with a duped look. - David Robinson: "A month after the premiere of Sparrows, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks took off for a European holiday, and on 20 July 1926 arrived in Moscow. At Yartsevo, 330 versts from their destination, the train was stopped to allow a press conference. From the moment of their arrival, they were constantly mobbed by vast, adoring crowds. The suggestion by some writers that there was a foredoomed official attempt to achieve a news blackout on the visit seems unfounded. In fact, in the wake of the New Economic Policy it was a moment when tourism to the USSR was being actively encouraged. Doug and Mary proved ideal Western tourists, and were publicized as such. An autograph was inscribed, “We are delighted with the wholehearted reception accorded us – charmed with enthusiasm of the Russians – truly a great people”. They voiced their enthusiasm for the new Soviet wonder film, The Battleship Potemkin (Bronenosets Potyomkin), told interviewers how much they admired Lenin, and said that their strongest desire was to meet Trotsky.
Inevitably they were invited to visit the Mezhrabpom-Rus studios. At that moment Miss Mend (Miss Mend) was almost certainly still in production, which would explain the presence in the studio of Sergei Komarov and Igor Ilinsky, who both have prominent roles in Otsep’s film (completed and released in three parts in October 1926). The two seized the opportunity offered by the ceremonial visit of the American stars. Myth has it that Komarov posed as a newsreel cameraman, which is possible, though in any event it would not have been too difficult to arrange the crucial shot of Pickford bestowing a kiss on Ilinsky. Ilinsky (1901-1987) had leapt to national popularity as Petya Petelkin, the lottery-winning hero of Yakov Protazanov’s comedy The Tailor from Torzhok (...), and would certainly have been presented to Pickford as a rising young star, so that a kiss and a camera record of it were easy to arrange as a publicity shot. In the course of the next year, Komarov and his co-scenarist Vadim Shershenevich concocted a story to build around both the kiss and actuality material of the adoring crowds in the streets of Moscow.
The plot they came up with casts Ilinsky as Goga Palkin, the ticket-taker in a movie theatre. Goga is in love with Dusia, but she dreams only of film stars, and tells him that she will only reciprocate his love if he becomes famous. He gets into the film studio, and after a variety of adventures is involved in a stunt which requires his being hung from the studio ceiling. But in the excitement of the arrival of Doug and Mary, everyone rushes out, forgetting Goga’s plight. When the visitors come into the studio however, they notice him above them: Mary decides he is the new Harry Piel, and rewards him with a kiss. Now at last he is famous, and Dusia gives him her hand. The satirical edge in the depiction of Hollywood style and the follies of fan-worship is softened by amiable envy.
Goga is the kind of clumsy hero which brought Ilinsky great popularity. Primarily a stage actor, Ilinsky worked from 1920 to 1934 with Vsevolod Meyerhold. His intermittent film appearances began auspiciously with Aelita (1924), and subsequently included The Doll with Millions (Kukla s millionami, 1928), the only other film directed by Komarov (...) Komarov (1891-1957) was a favourite actor of Kuleshov, Pudovkin, and Barnet, with one or other of whom most of his films were made up to the mid-1940s. (...)" – David Robinson. - Soviet comedy revisited: a charming little film with funny clowning, I seem to remember having seen a better print from Gosfilmofond in the 1980s.

SPARROWS - OPENING MUSICAL EVENT

Turvattomat. US 1926. PC: The Pickford Corporation. P: Mary Pickford. D: William Beaudine. Story: Winifred Dunn. DP: Charles Rosher, Hal Mohr, Karl Struss. CAST: Mary Pickford (Mama Molly), Gustav von Seyffertitz (Mr. Grimes), Walter “Spec” O’Donnell (Ambrose). Orig. l: 7763 ft. Print: LoC (restored 2006), 7763 ft /21 fps/ 95 min, tinted, original in English, e-subtitles in Italian, viewed at Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, Pordenone, Cinema Verdi, 4 September 2008.
Score composed by Jeffrey Silverman. Performed live for the first time by Orchestra Sinfonica del Friuli Venezia Giulia. Conducted by Hugh Munro Neely.
The conductor on the score: "This performance marks the premiere of a new symphonic score for Sparrows by Jeffrey Silverman, a Los Angeles based composer. (...) For this new score, the composer has employed an expansive harmonic palette that is as atmospheric, in its own way, as the fantastic settings designed by Harry Oliver for the film itself. The orchestra employs a compact woodwind section, full brass, percussion, piano and harp, in addition to a relatively large string section."
Jeffrey Vance and Tony Maietta: "Sparrows is Mary Pickford’s masterpiece. Both Charles Chaplin and Ernst Lubitsch—two of her most critical and contentious contemporaries—praised it as her finest work. Although Pickford had greater commercial successes as well as films that garnered more critical acclaim, Sparrows is her most fully realized and timeless work of art. The film’s superb performances, gothic production design, and cinematography are all at the service of a suspenseful, emotionally-compelling story anchored by a central performance imbued with pathos, humor, and charm.
Throughout the early 1920s, “America’s Sweetheart” longed to eschew “the little girl with the golden curls” and expand her range in adult roles and more ambitious productions. Her two forays into this arena, Rosita (1923) and Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (1924), found success at the box office, but to Pickford they were disappointments, as they failed to surpass the greatest of her previous releases. Her first venture back into the world of pre-adolescence, Little Annie Rooney (1925), was such a commercial hit that Pickford reassembled much of the same team for a follow up. Originally entitled Swamp Babies, the film was in actuality a daring departure for Pickford: a suspenseful drama with a darkly gothic visual style, which quickly became known during production as The Baby Farm.
Baby farms, places where the children of unwed mothers, prostitutes, or deserted wives were boarded for hire and then often sold like commodities to adoptive parents, were notorious rackets in certain sections of America in the 1920s. From this contemporary scandal, Winifred Dunn created a melodrama which, as Edward Wagenknecht and others have previously noted, contains several Dickensian touches in its focus on abused children, background of mysterious misdeeds, and in the demonic Mr. Grimes (Gustav von Seyffertitz) who owns the farm, a character fully the equal of Dickens’ Mr. Squeers from Nicholas Nickleby. Pickford plays “Mama Molly” the eldest child and guardian of the farm’s little “sparrows.” (The film’s title is drawn from a passage in the Gospel of Luke: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God.”)
Three acres of the Pickford-Fairbanks Studios Hollywood lot were transformed into a gothic nightmare, the centerpiece being a bubbling swamp, under the supervision of art director Harry Oliver. Six hundred trees were acquired; pits were created and filled with muddy water, sawdust, and burnt cork to effectively achieve the stylized look of the production. The cinematography was greatly influenced by German stylized cinema as a result of the German UFA studios having engaged the services of Pickford’s favorite cinematographer, Charles Rosher, as photographic consultant on F.W. Murnau’s Faust (1926). Pickford also retained two additional cinematographers: Karl Struss and Hal Mohr. The three men produced beautiful, painterly images for Sparrows that are the equal of the very best films of the period. (Rosher and Struss subsequently photographed Murnau’s Sunrise [1927]). Sparrows had a supporting cast of eleven children under the age of ten and required director William Beaudine’s skill with them, just as he demonstrated with the many children that populated the cast of Little Annie Rooney.
Pickford was thirty-three years old in 1925. Despite the public's continual clamor for "Little Mary,” she undoubtedly realized that her days of portraying pre-teens and adolescents were drawing to a close. This knowledge uniquely informs her portrayal of Molly with a beguiling wistfulness and in the last of her little girl roles, Pickford is a revelation. She always understood that the motion picture experience was an intensely intimate one between viewer and screen, and through her superbly modulated performance, she reaches the highest levels of silent communication with her audience. Nowhere is this assertion more exquisitely demonstrated than in the sublime sequence in which Molly, attempting to nurse one of her desperately ill “sparrows” back to health, awakens from what she assumes is a Divine Hallucination of Christ taking the child to Heaven. Upon awakening and finding the infant dead in her arms, a river of emotion washes over her face. Through her large expressive eyes one sees her confusion, distress, devastating realization, and finally, calm resignation and knowing gratitude that the child has gone to a better place. It is a virtual primer in the art of silent screen acting.
One of the most lyrical and moving scenes in the film, the sequence in the final cut evolved from something quite different. Surviving outtakes depict an earlier conception in which a phosphorescent angel takes the dead body from Molly’s arms. The effects shots were completed, but were ultimately rejected from the final version which tied more clearly to earlier plot points of the film. (Molly had earlier been shown reading a tattered illustrated booklet of the Christian Scripture).
Pickford’s own maternal feelings were never more evident to her than when she made Sparrows. Although she confessed in her autobiography that she “had maternal designs on every baby that played with me on the screen,” she was inordinately fond of Mary Louise Miller, who plays baby Doris Wayne. Pickford desperately wanted to adopt the cherubic Miller, and newspapers reported that Pickford offered her parents a million dollars to adopt her. Miller’s parents refused to part with their child. Correspondence survives between Pickford and Miller well into the 1970s; Pickford signed her letters to Miller as “Mama Molly” until the end.
The most celebrated scene in Sparrows involves Molly (with Baby Doris on her shoulders) and her flock of children making a desperate attempt at freedom across a crumbling, low-hanging branch above an alligator-infested swamp pursued by Mr. Grimes and his vicious dog. The scene is also famous for apocryphal stories—principally told by Pickford herself—that it had been rehearsed with live alligators before an incensed Douglas Fairbanks put an end to it. Contradicting Pickford was Hal Mohr, who photographed the sequence and spoke of his use of split screen for this scene. Mohr carefully counted each turn of the camera’s crank and a script supervisor maintained a detailed continuity record of when the alligators lept or snapped their jaws so that Pickford and the children might recoil properly at the precise moments. The superb Library of Congress restoration print clearly reveals that the snapping mouths and movements of the alligators for this scene are being manipulated by an ingenious system of wires. Although these revealing shots may at first appear to shatter the carefully constructed illusion,the cumulative effect makes the incredible craft of the original filming all the more impressive. (...)
It was the opinion of the public, however, that Pickford cared about most, and they were uneasy about the film. Pickford told Kevin Brownlow in 1965, “My picture Sparrows wasn’t too successful, comparatively speaking, because of an error of judgment. We tried to put too much drama into it….it was so terrifying for many people seeing babies in such danger that Sparrows didn’t do as well as it might have done.” Sparrows had a production cost of $463,455.00 and its domestic gross was a respectable $966,878.00.
In retrospect, it is now clear that Sparrows was a great film released at the wrong time. The very qualities which made many filmgoers, and even its star, uneasy in its initial release are the same attributes which gave it resonance in later years. Thanks to the Library of Congress restoration, Sparrows can finally be viewed in its full pictorial glory, and gain reappraisal as one of the masterworks of the silent cinema. It is also the perfect introduction for twenty first century film audiences to the magic of Mary Pickford." - Jeffrey Vance and Tony Maietta
A beautiful print of a familiar film (I included it in my MMM Film Guide on the 1100 best films in 2005), and a magnificent score.

Katie Melua: Mary Pickford

GB 2007. PC: Dramatico. Song written, produced, and arranged by Mike Batt; vocals, guitar: Katie Melua; music video, 3’08”, DVD 4x3 PAL, source: Edel Italia, Milano.
Russell Merritt: "The rhymes will have you jabbing a sharpened pencil in your ear, but how many 20-somethings hit the charts with a song about the formation of a silent film company? Katie Melua, Europe’s best-selling female pop artist, goes one better: she makes it light-hearted (some would say light-headed), good-natured, and wonderfully entertaining. “Mary Pickford”, about the creation of United Artists, is the breakout song from her latest album, Pictures. It is best enjoyed, as we’re showing it here, as a music video, where the bouncy jingle is enhanced by scenes from Pickford, Fairbanks, and Griffith movies, and the famous footage of the Big Four signing their contracts and cavorting for newsreel cameras. The song was written by Melua’s manager, Mike Batt. The trigger – like many of Batt’s songs – was evidently some Big Book of Fantastic Facts. In this case, the Fantastic Fact was that Mary Pickford ate roses as a beauty aid (you could check this yourself in Scott Eyman’s Pickford biography). But far from setting up satire, the rose-eating introduces the first of our four artist-heroes as pioneer independents, yesteryear superstars having a fine time creating a company that they will control. This is not the picture we might expect from someone growing up at a time when United Artists has become the depersonalized subsidiary of a multi-national consortium. But in this song United Artists stands for heroic, independent filmmakers going off on their own. The movie clips in the video capture the mood: Mary playing with Mack Sennett in An Arcadian Maid and posing in curls for Sparrows; Griffith fighting a stuffed bird in Rescued from an Eagle’s Nest, walking out of a split set in At the Crossroads of Life, rehearsing his actors in Way Down East, and playing war correspondent in Hearts of the World; Fairbanks strutting in The Thief of Bagdad, swirling his cape in Don Q, and sparring with Mary in Taming of the Shrew. Chaplin alone gets no film clips, but makes up for it by clowning in costume with Fairbanks at the UA signing." – Russell Merritt

The Dawn of a Tomorrow

Nattens skuggor [the title on print]. US 1915. PC: Famous Players Film Co. Original distributor: Paramount. Presented by Daniel Frohman. D: James Kirkwood. SC: Eve Unsell - based on the novel (1906) and play (1909) by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Starring Mary Pickford (Glad) David Powell (Dandy), Forrest Robinson (Sir Oliver Holt), Robert Cain (his nephew). Considered lost, a Swedish print of the film was found in 2005. Originally 1339 m, cut by the Swedish censor, preserved from a tinted print with Swedish intertitles, 1283 m /17 fps/ 66 min. Grand piano: Matti Bye. Presenta Jon Wengström. Viewed at Lumière 1, Bologna, 5 July 2008. - In the opening scene Mary is a bit like Eliza in Pygmalion / My Fair Lady. - "The poorest girl of London, and happiest" meets "the richest and the unhappiest man in England". The slum girl is surrounded by the rich young Holt and the poor Dandy. Mary overhears the burglary plan of her friends, and because of her plea Dandy withdraws. Mary also stops also an evicted lady from drowning, quoting the Sermon on the Mount. Mary meets the old, mortally ill Sir Oliver on a railway platform disguised as a poor man; she preaches him the sermon of life. - Typical Mary Pickford material, but mediocre and uninspired, far from the 10-20 great Mary Pickford masterpieces.

Rosita

Rosita / Rosita. US (c) 1923 Mary Pickford Company. D: Ernst Lubitsch. SC: Edward Knoblock - treatment by Norbert Falk, Hanns Kräly - based on the play Don César de Bazan (1844) by Philippe Francois Pinel Dumanoir and Adolphe Philippe Dennery. DP: Charles Rosher. AD: William Cameron Menzies, Svend Gade. COST: Mitchell Leisen. Starring: Mary Pickford (Rosita), Holbrook Blinn (the King), Irene Rich (the Queen), George Walsh (Don Diego). Originally 2682 m /20 fps/ 117 min. Surviving Russian print 2242 m /2o fps/ 98 min. A Digibeta presentation of the film with Russian intertitles, e-subtitles AA, Cinema Orion, Helsinki, 19 Feb 2008. I have seen this film maybe six times, and this was not the worst presentation, although in Digibeta. This magnificent production (cinematography by Rosher, art direction by Menzies, costumes by Leisen) would deserve the best possible restoration one day, based on all surviving material. No masterpiece, but a fascinating turning-point for both Pickford and Lubitsch. Pickford wanting to break out of her woman-as-girl formula, and Lubitsch making his big entrance in Hollywood. This is a continuation to the Dubarry-Boleyn-Pharaon cycle of Lubitsch, and his last such spectacle. It looks great, and in the Sevilla Carneval Lubitsch shows his talent in mounting lively crowd scenes (interesting to see the similarities here to his previous films). There are also the nice small touches such as the close-up of the imprisoned Rosita's hand touching secretly Diego's and the Queen's small pocket mirror turned into a spyglass. It is interesting to compare Mary Pickford with Pola Negri as Carmen and Bergkatze; Mary is good, but Pola would have been better. Mary is at her best in the end, after the fake execution of Don Diego, as she shocks the king with her intensity. Adult scenes include the lovers' night in prison and Rosita's attempted assassination of the King. Holbrook Blinn is no Jannings as the King, but Irene Rich is very good with her telling looks as the Queen.