Silent Vengeance (And Confusion)
Today's review: The Eagle, a silent movie from 1925.
I was recommended the silent movie The Eagle by some commenters here on Livejournal when I mentioned I wasn’t all that familiar with Rudolph Valentino’s work. It took awhile, but I finally managed to track down a copy and give it a shot. While I liked the movie well enough, I have to admit I didn’t end up paying all that much attention to Valentino’s performance, mostly because I kept getting distracted by other elements.
The story takes place sometime in the late 1700’s; I know this because it’s set in Russia, which is ruled by an unnamed Czarina (Louise Dresser), but who is very obviously meant to be Catherine the Great. While she is a character in the story, though, our real hero is Vladimir Dubrovsky (Valentino) a young soldier who starts off as part of the Czarina’s army, but gives it up thanks to a) the Czarina attempting to seduce him, and b) the news that his father has somehow been tricked out of most of his property by a man named Kyrilla (James A. Marcus). Upon the death of his father (indeed, the way it’s shot, it appears to be literally after his father passes) Vladimir rallies the servants and tenants of his lands and declares vengeance on Kyrilla, taking on the mantle of “The Black Eagle” and acting as a Robin Hood type. It turns out that Kyrilla has a beautiful daughter named Mascha (Vilma Bánky), and that he’s hired a French tutor for her, so Vladimir decides to kill two birds with one stone and impersonates the tutor*. This naturally turns into a situation where Vladimir is torn between love and vengeance. You probably won’t predict the resolution to this particular incarnation of that conflict, though.
While I’ll try to be fair to this movie and assume that some of the things I’m about to discuss may have been dealt with in scenes that weren’t in the version of the movie I watched, I have to admit that there are bits of this movie that don’t always make sense. Like I said in the summary, there appears to be zero passage of time between the death of Vladimir’s father and his swearing vengeance against Kyrilla, to the point where I don’t think there’d even been a funeral yet. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but it felt a little rushed. Something similar happens after Vladimir arrives at Kyrilla’s house in the guise of the tutor; once he’s been accepted into the household, we abruptly jump ahead an indeterminate amount of time. We can infer that he and Mascha are continuing to develop feelings for each other and that the Eagle has continued to send warning notes to Kyrilla, but it’s very much “tell don’t show”, or rather “assumptions based on knowledge of tropes”. This also extends to the actual reason for the title-we don’t actually see that much of Vladimir being the Eagle, at least in regards to his helping the poor and wearing his mask. Even a montage would have been sufficient, but mostly what we get is exposition by intertitle and two short scenes. It does still tie in to the plot, it was just that I’d been expecting more. But the biggest issue for me is the use of the Czarina. She gets a lot of screentime in the beginning, then disappears entirely until the end, with only a few written royal decrees appearing in the meantime to remind us that she exists. It almost winds up feeling like she’s part of an entirely different movie, to the point where her reintroduction comes across as a Deus ex Machina (twice, actually). It’s a shame, really; she had verve, presence, and cut quite a striking figure in her military garb. I would have liked to see a lot more of her.
There are some other elements that leave me scratching my head as well. Kyrilla proves himself to be a villain early on by apparently keeping a bear in his cellar, which he uses to get rid of people who have outlived their usefulness to him. While for some reason this strikes me as completely believable in this particular setting and context, the way it’s shot and framed made it difficult to tell if he actually uses the bear as a murder weapon or just to scare people. It wasn’t until he tried the trick a second time that I realized it was the former. Some of this is probably down to not wanting to be too gory for the audience, but a little more clarity would have been nice. I’m also a bit boggled by one of the decisions Vladimir makes. After going to all the trouble to come up with a secret identity, complete with black mask, and with his stated primary goal of bringing down Kyrilla, he then proceeds to send a warning note to Kyrilla of his intent, using not only his alias but his last name. I guess he’s banking on the fact that Kyrilla doesn’t know what he looks like, but that still strikes me as an incredibly stupid and dangerous move. Besides, what was the point of coming up with a secret identity if you’re just going to reveal yourself like that? Then there’s the ending, which while clever, has two problems. One is, as I hinted above, that it relies on a Deus ex Machina. The other is that it doesn’t actually tie up one of the major plot threads. I suppose you can infer that it was tied up, but I felt like we deserved a little more closure. It would have made the ending a bit more satisfying.
Most of these are relatively small quibbles, however. Overall, I thought the movie was pretty decent, with a few things I liked quite a bit. This being set in the 1700’s, the costumes are very nice. The romance between Mascha and Vladimir, especially as Mascha begins to figure out who the Black Eagle is, is fairly well-handled; I particularly like one exchange that revolves around a bible. There’s a neat effect where we see words in Russian (and later French) fade into an English translation-it’s one thing to happen during intertitles, but when it happens on screen, I’m extra impressed, especially given the technology at hand in the 1920's. And while I’ve already said my piece about the Czarina, Mascha also gets a moment where she proves herself to be brave and determined, making me even more disposed to like her character. They don’t quite stand out on their own, but together, they stand a reasonable chance of making it onto my “Best Female Characters” list. Which for me, is generally high praise.
While I wouldn’t use this movie to try to introduce people to silent movies, I do think that people who already enjoy silents should give this one a look. Despite my complaints, it’s pretty fun and fairly charming, and you’ll probably find at least one thing that’s memorable or worth talking about. And at least it’s more lighthearted than a lot of stories that are set in Russia…
Note: while fact checking the names of the actors and characters on IMDB, I was surprised to discover that one of the Cossacks helping the Eagle was Gary Cooper. Certainly his was the most recognizable name on the cast list other than Valentino. Though I’m guessing, since his role was uncredited, that that wasn’t the case at the time…
*I should mention that the two of them had met and exchanged some flirty looks twice prior to this point, one of which was when Vladimir was in his Eagle disguise, so this decision doesn’t come completely out of nowhere.
I was recommended the silent movie The Eagle by some commenters here on Livejournal when I mentioned I wasn’t all that familiar with Rudolph Valentino’s work. It took awhile, but I finally managed to track down a copy and give it a shot. While I liked the movie well enough, I have to admit I didn’t end up paying all that much attention to Valentino’s performance, mostly because I kept getting distracted by other elements.
The story takes place sometime in the late 1700’s; I know this because it’s set in Russia, which is ruled by an unnamed Czarina (Louise Dresser), but who is very obviously meant to be Catherine the Great. While she is a character in the story, though, our real hero is Vladimir Dubrovsky (Valentino) a young soldier who starts off as part of the Czarina’s army, but gives it up thanks to a) the Czarina attempting to seduce him, and b) the news that his father has somehow been tricked out of most of his property by a man named Kyrilla (James A. Marcus). Upon the death of his father (indeed, the way it’s shot, it appears to be literally after his father passes) Vladimir rallies the servants and tenants of his lands and declares vengeance on Kyrilla, taking on the mantle of “The Black Eagle” and acting as a Robin Hood type. It turns out that Kyrilla has a beautiful daughter named Mascha (Vilma Bánky), and that he’s hired a French tutor for her, so Vladimir decides to kill two birds with one stone and impersonates the tutor*. This naturally turns into a situation where Vladimir is torn between love and vengeance. You probably won’t predict the resolution to this particular incarnation of that conflict, though.
While I’ll try to be fair to this movie and assume that some of the things I’m about to discuss may have been dealt with in scenes that weren’t in the version of the movie I watched, I have to admit that there are bits of this movie that don’t always make sense. Like I said in the summary, there appears to be zero passage of time between the death of Vladimir’s father and his swearing vengeance against Kyrilla, to the point where I don’t think there’d even been a funeral yet. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but it felt a little rushed. Something similar happens after Vladimir arrives at Kyrilla’s house in the guise of the tutor; once he’s been accepted into the household, we abruptly jump ahead an indeterminate amount of time. We can infer that he and Mascha are continuing to develop feelings for each other and that the Eagle has continued to send warning notes to Kyrilla, but it’s very much “tell don’t show”, or rather “assumptions based on knowledge of tropes”. This also extends to the actual reason for the title-we don’t actually see that much of Vladimir being the Eagle, at least in regards to his helping the poor and wearing his mask. Even a montage would have been sufficient, but mostly what we get is exposition by intertitle and two short scenes. It does still tie in to the plot, it was just that I’d been expecting more. But the biggest issue for me is the use of the Czarina. She gets a lot of screentime in the beginning, then disappears entirely until the end, with only a few written royal decrees appearing in the meantime to remind us that she exists. It almost winds up feeling like she’s part of an entirely different movie, to the point where her reintroduction comes across as a Deus ex Machina (twice, actually). It’s a shame, really; she had verve, presence, and cut quite a striking figure in her military garb. I would have liked to see a lot more of her.
There are some other elements that leave me scratching my head as well. Kyrilla proves himself to be a villain early on by apparently keeping a bear in his cellar, which he uses to get rid of people who have outlived their usefulness to him. While for some reason this strikes me as completely believable in this particular setting and context, the way it’s shot and framed made it difficult to tell if he actually uses the bear as a murder weapon or just to scare people. It wasn’t until he tried the trick a second time that I realized it was the former. Some of this is probably down to not wanting to be too gory for the audience, but a little more clarity would have been nice. I’m also a bit boggled by one of the decisions Vladimir makes. After going to all the trouble to come up with a secret identity, complete with black mask, and with his stated primary goal of bringing down Kyrilla, he then proceeds to send a warning note to Kyrilla of his intent, using not only his alias but his last name. I guess he’s banking on the fact that Kyrilla doesn’t know what he looks like, but that still strikes me as an incredibly stupid and dangerous move. Besides, what was the point of coming up with a secret identity if you’re just going to reveal yourself like that? Then there’s the ending, which while clever, has two problems. One is, as I hinted above, that it relies on a Deus ex Machina. The other is that it doesn’t actually tie up one of the major plot threads. I suppose you can infer that it was tied up, but I felt like we deserved a little more closure. It would have made the ending a bit more satisfying.
Most of these are relatively small quibbles, however. Overall, I thought the movie was pretty decent, with a few things I liked quite a bit. This being set in the 1700’s, the costumes are very nice. The romance between Mascha and Vladimir, especially as Mascha begins to figure out who the Black Eagle is, is fairly well-handled; I particularly like one exchange that revolves around a bible. There’s a neat effect where we see words in Russian (and later French) fade into an English translation-it’s one thing to happen during intertitles, but when it happens on screen, I’m extra impressed, especially given the technology at hand in the 1920's. And while I’ve already said my piece about the Czarina, Mascha also gets a moment where she proves herself to be brave and determined, making me even more disposed to like her character. They don’t quite stand out on their own, but together, they stand a reasonable chance of making it onto my “Best Female Characters” list. Which for me, is generally high praise.
While I wouldn’t use this movie to try to introduce people to silent movies, I do think that people who already enjoy silents should give this one a look. Despite my complaints, it’s pretty fun and fairly charming, and you’ll probably find at least one thing that’s memorable or worth talking about. And at least it’s more lighthearted than a lot of stories that are set in Russia…
Note: while fact checking the names of the actors and characters on IMDB, I was surprised to discover that one of the Cossacks helping the Eagle was Gary Cooper. Certainly his was the most recognizable name on the cast list other than Valentino. Though I’m guessing, since his role was uncredited, that that wasn’t the case at the time…
*I should mention that the two of them had met and exchanged some flirty looks twice prior to this point, one of which was when Vladimir was in his Eagle disguise, so this decision doesn’t come completely out of nowhere.