Misfortunes of Imaginary Beings: 12/03/17

A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Camille (Ray C. Smallwood, 1921)

Alla Nazimova in Camille

Marguerite Gautier: Alla Nazimova
Armand Duval: Rudolph Valentino
Gaston Rieux: Rex Cherryman
Count de Varville: Arthur Hoyt
Prudence: Zeffie Tilbury
Nichette: Patsy Ruth Miller
Nanine: Elinor Oliver
Armand's Father: William Orlamond
Olympe: Consuelo Flowerton

Director: Ray C. Smallwood
Screenplay: June Mathis
Based on the novel and play by Alexandre Dumas fils
Cinematography: Rudolph J. Bergquist
Art direction: Natacha Rambova
Costume design: Natacha Rambova

It's hard to judge from her performance in this silent version of Camille why Alla Nazimova (billed in the film, which she produced, as just "Nazimova") was so celebrated an actress, especially if you've seen Greta Garbo's performance in George Cukor's 1936 version of the Dumas fils story. To us, Nazimova's Marguerite Gautier is camp: a series of pouts and poses, with lots of swooning backbends, and an unfortunate hairdo that looks like a cross between an afro and an explosion in a wig factory. But it's very much Nazimova's movie: Her Armand is Rudolph Valentino, but she constantly upstages him, even to the extent of cutting the usual ending of Camille, in which Marguerite and Armand are reunited for her great resurgence of life just before she expires. In this Camille Marguerite dies unreconciled, with just the faithful Nanine and the just-married Gaston and Nichette as witnesses to her last swoon. It's as if she foresaw Garbo's grand demise and knew she couldn't compete. What the film mostly has going for it are the set and costume designs of Natacha Rambova (who may have been Nazimova's lover and who did marry Valentino). At some point, a decision was made to update the story from the 1840s to the 1920s, so Rambova's designs for Marguerite's Paris haunts are a fascinating version of Art Deco with touches of Art Nouveau and some hints of Aubrey Beardsley's drawings. Marguerite breathes her last in a round bed under a rounded arch in her Paris bedroom, which has a round window outside of which snow is falling. But Rambova seems less interested in Marguerite and Armand's country idyll, and the cottage is a rather drab affair, very obviously a three-walled stage set, and one that the director, Ray C. Smallwood, unimaginatively treats as such. As for Valentino, he's his usual handsome and dashing presence, but deprived of his final scene he makes less impact on the film than usual. In short, this Camille is a briefly tantalizing glimpse at some legendary figures, but not much of a drama.