Buster Keaton Convention

The 15th Annual Damfino Convention will take place October 2 and 3, 2009, in Muskegon, Michigan.

Events include:

- A screening of Buster's classic film, The General

- A walking tour of Buster's former neighborhood in Bluffton.

- A banquet on Saturday night.

- A reception at the train depot in Muskegon.

For more information, tips on places to stay, downloadable registration forms, and more, take a look here.

Hearts of the World

This is one of my favorite Bobby Harron films. He had grown out of supporting-role status and had become a leading man, and a very effective one. He's believable in everything he does here.

It's also fascinating for its authentic battleground footage, shot in WWI France. Griffith could have died while filming it, and some of the soldiers accompanying him one day were killed by a shell that barely missed Griffith and his crew; Lillian Gish reported how shaken and tearful he was when he told them, later that day, what had happened.

Bobby Harron would die in real life two years later, and in this movie, there is a scene where his fiancee (the incomparable Lillian) thinks he has been killed. What she does, in this scene, is something I've never seen anywhere else. I'll let you find out for yourselves. There's the interest of viewing Lillian and Dorothy playing rivals for The Boy, when in real life, Dorothy was the one involved with Harron. Dorothy gives her best performance here; at least, it's the best I've ever seen from her. She's marvelous as the "Little Disturber", who makes a play for The Boy in the beginning, then finding strength of character during the bombardment of her village. Her role is both comic and dramatic. I can't help wondering what she thought of the scene in which Lillian kisses Bobby, the only time I can think of where you can clearly see Lillian kissing her leading man.

The movie contains many surprising scenes: A shot of a civilian victim; the real ruins of a French town after heavy bombing; the trenches; and one shot you wouldn't even see in a modern film, that of a woman breastfeeding her child.

Griffith intended to show the horrors of war, and I think that his own experiences with the first world war made him even more qualified to do so.

Bobby, you were wonderful.

Olive Thomas

Olive Thomas is an interesting (and sad) chapter in silent film. Lillian Gish was the consummate actress. Mary Pickford was the eternal, annoying little girl. Louise Brooks was a sex symbol. Garbo was the lady of mystery.

Olive was the tomboyish character, yet with style and class. Her film career was woefully short - only four years - but by the time she had made her final film, The Flapper, she was a confirmed star.

Olive had one of those rags-to-riches backgrounds. She married her first husband when she was only sixteen, divorcing him a few years later. She moved to New York City and won a beauty contest; this led to her being offered a job in the Ziegfeld Follies. (At late-night parties, Olive would appear wearing only balloons, which the rich men would pop, one by one, with their cigars.)

The film world wasn't far away in those days, with as many films being shot on the East Coast as on the West. Olive made her first film in 1916, and in October of that year, she married Mary Pickford's younger brother Jack. Jack was also in film, though he would never achieve the heights that his sister did. With Olive now a member of the industry, they often found themselves shooting on opposite coasts, putting a strain on their marriage; another problem was caused by Jack's frequent philandering.

In 1920, Olive and Jack sailed for Europe to give their marriage another try. Olive had confided to a friend, not long before this, that she didn't know if she could take being married to Jack any longer.

In the dead of night, in Paris, Olive went into the bathroom and swallowed a solution of mercury bichloride. She woke Jack to tell him what she had done; he administered first aid, and called for help. It was too late; after several days of agony, Olive died in a Paris hospital. She had been blinded by the solution, which had also burned through her vocal cords.

Jack, with Olive's body, sailed for New York. His boat was met by his sister Mary; Jack burst into tears and said, "I've never had to see anyone die before." Olive was buried in the Pickford family plot, but her name wasn't put on the stone.

Her last film, The Flapper, was a perfect showcase for her talent. She played Ginger King, a teenager from Florida who is sent to a boarding school in New York State. The character of Ginger has a real talent for getting into dramatic situations, which she milks for all that they're worth. Olive truly shines in this role, and the film gives us views of a long-gone New York City.

Much has been made of Olive's death, especially in light of the fact that her marriage was on the rocks. Was it suicide? I doubt it. Olive had thought nothing of divorcing her first husband, who, to all accounts, didn't cause her any of the problems that the irresponsible playboy Jack Pickford had. She may have felt that it was her duty to try to make things worth; this is plausible. Yet suicide by means of mercury bichloride is a rash step. (On the other hand, the "Biograph Girl", Florence Lawrence, committed suicide by eating ant paste.)

My feeling is that she got up late one night, thirsty, went into the bathroom, and drank what she thought was water. As for the solution itself, mercury bichloride was used in those days for acne; it was mixed with water and applied to the skin.

It was also used for syphilis, which, evidently, Jack had - and had passed on to Olive.

I think Olive deserves much better than to be relegated to the status of a Pickford in-law. She was very talented, certainly far more talented than the grungy-looking Jack, and I'm sure she would have been one of the greats. Timeline Films has made a very good documentary about Olive; click on the link at the bottom of this page to find out more. (One of the fascinating things about the documentary is that it contains film footage of Olive with two other actresses, sitting on some steps. One actress is Chaplin's one-time leading lady, Edna Purviance. The other is Virginia Rappe, who would die so dramatically the year after Olive did.)

Sad news

I hope that Bob Mitchell's family won't mind me putting this text here:

Bob Mitchell was born in Los Angeles on October 12, 1912. He began piano study at four and pipe organ at the age of ten. He accompanied silent movies beginning in 1924 (at age twelve) until 1928 when sound replaced live music. At eighteen he was the youngest candidate to receive the degree of Fellow of the American Guild of Organists (F.A.G.O.). He was a scholarship winner at Eastman School of Music and the New York College of Music and still found time to sing and play on his own radio show in New York City.

Returning to Los Angeles, he founded the Mitchell Choirboys in 1934 - which continued for nearly 70 years. They performed in some one hundred motion pictures, most notably Going My Way, The Bishop's Wife, and White Christmas. They toured extensively - five times abroad and once around the world, and made thousands of radio and TV appearances.

Bob served overseas in the Navy during World War II, and was pianist/organist for Meredith Willson's Armed Forces Radio Service Orchestra.

He served as staff pianist/organist at several Los Angeles radio stations - KFI, KHJ, KECA, among others, and on TV with Art Linkletter's House Party, The Jack LaLanne Show, and even The Mitchell Choirboys Show. Bob and the choir were featured in the Academy-nominated short film Forty Boys and a Song, and he was honored on Ralph Edwards' This Is Your Life.

Bob was organist for four years for the Dodgers and Angels at the then new stadium, the only person to 'play' for both the National and American leagues at the same time. He was Musical Director for many religious institutions over his 87 years as a professional musician, and most recently regularly exciting his many fans at the Silent Movie Theater (on Fairfax Blvd.), Hollywood. Bob passed away peacefully on Saturday afternoon, July 4, 2009.

The Arbuckle scandal

This, in my opinion, was one of the biggest tragedies ever to strike Hollywood.

Things were going so well for Arbuckle in 1921. He was a famous comedian, he was the first in his field to make a million dollars a year (a fabulous sum now, and truly astronomical then). He had introduced to screen the incomparable Buster Keaton, and in 1921, Buster made his first feature film. The two were good friends, and Arbuckle needed all the friends he could get after all hell broke loose.

In Buster Keaton: A Hard Act to Follow, footage was included of Buster being interviewed about his friend Roscoe (who was NEVER called "Fatty" by his friends; he hated the nickname). Buster said indignantly, "Certainly he was wronged! He was no more guilty of that than I was!"

As for what really happened during the infamous Labor Day party, we may never know. A week later, a would-be starlet was dead, and Arbuckle was blamed for causing her death. The accounts vary wildly; either Arbuckle was a sex fiend who assaulted this poor, innocent young woman, which then led to her death of peritonitis due to a ruptured bladder, or this extremely active young woman, already infected with more than one sexually-transmitted disease, died of peritonitis from a ruptured bladder as the result of a botched abortion, one of several.

Certainly, Hearst was willing to put the blame squarely on Arbuckle. Buster stated that Hearst said - in front of Buster himself - that the Arbuckle affair sold more papers than the sinking of the Lusitania.

When I watch the movies Arbuckle and Buster made together, Buster's genius is obvious, even in his very first role. Arbuckle was no mean hand at physical comedy himself, and he had some pretty good little routines, but had it not been for the storm surrounding him, much of which continues to this day, what would have happened to him? He didn't have the staying power that Buster did, or Harold Lloyd. He did have talent, though, and his joy in making comedy still shines through.

San Francisco Silent Film Festival

It's coming up soon! July 10 - 12 at San Francisco's Castro Theatre, built in 1922.

Click here to see what's playing. I noticed that several of the films on offer were shown at Pordenone last October. Anyone who wanted to attend Pordenone, but couldn't, has the opportunity to see some of the movies that were shown there.

I think we should have more such festivals. Every capital city should have one, and large countries should scatter them nationwide. Each month should bring another festival, and not just a few movies, but a rich offering of silent-era movies.

(On a side note, while I do appreciate the fact that some filmmakers like to make modern-day short silent films, I never get anything out of watching them at festivals. I prefer to have only vintage films shown, and nothing recent.)

This may be the biggest festival until Pordenone this October. I've never been to it myself, so I can't vouch for it, but the combination of silent films and San Francisco has tremendous appeal.

Intolerance

Will you look at that? Will you just look at that?

This is one of my favorite images of all time. The scale of the Babylonian set is breathtaking, as is the pioneering "crane" shot Griffith created. (He had a scaffold built which contained an elevator, on which the camera was placed. The scaffold had wheels, so the cameraman cranked away while the elevator went down as the entire structure was slowly wheeled forward.)

I must say, I'm glad Griffith got huffy and self-pitying after the storm of protest following the release of The Birth of a Nation. If he hadn't gotten it into his head that he'd been dreadfully wronged, he might not have made Intolerance. And we wouldn't have this stunning spectacle to view.

What really gets me is that something this beautiful wasn't carefully maintained and preserved. Nope; it was just a movie set. Get rid of it. It stood at the studio on Prospect Street. Imagine walking past and just drinking in the sight of it! I showed a friend a clip from the movie, pointing out the wall where a chariot was driven. He was impressed - not as much as I am, though.

You just don't see sets like these anymore. CGI, eat your heart out.

Pordenone revisited

More on the festival!

The website has been updated, showing some of the goodies in store for us at this year's Giornate.

I found that several films on the ever-popular character of Sherlock Holmes are going to be shown, the earliest of these from 1909. There are quite a few to choose from.

There are also some early Technicolor films; a few offerings from Carl Theodor Dreyer; an Asta Nielsen retrospective; and more!

It's always sheer joy to go to the Giornate, quickly replace by sheer exhaustion after a day or two, when we have all been sitting, rapt, in a dark room all day, eating high-calorie food at nearby restaurants, staying up late at night and getting up early the next morning. This quickly leads to vertical naps in the screening rooms. It's a rare day when you don't hear someone snoring during at least one movie (one year, someone got in a good one right when the accompanist trailed off; the room was silent for a split second, and then a snore punctuated the screening).

It happens every year. We can't see all the movies we want to see, but by God, we try.