I can't help but feel that the world of cinema really lost something when the medium moved from silent films to talkies. There's a simple elegance in creating a picture solely with consideration of the visual element, and making it as rich as possible; even the most natural and nuanced of acting feels very different before and after that paradigm shift. The most elaborate sets and costume design of the earliest years of the industry seem more extravagant; the employment of many extras feels more special, as does any tinge of humor and any bursts of thrilling action. And so it unquestionably is here, with every actor before the camera performing with emphatic deliberation, and it is an utter joy to watch Ramon Novarro, Alice Terry, Lloyd Ingraham, Edith Allen, James Marcus, Willard Lee Hall, Lewis Stone, and others command scenes with such power. The cast nevertheless is nearly upstaged by the striking, truly magnificent production design and art direction that transform California landscapes into extraordinary, breath-taking villages, city squares, and more, to say nothing of of opulent, elaborate interiors. Every outfit and all the hair and makeup work are a real treat for the eyes; all the stunts, effects, and action sequences are earnestly exciting, and coordinated with superb finesse. I can understand how old features don't appeal to all comers, and I would have said the same of myself at one time. Even so, I watch 'Scaramouche' and I see an outstanding classic that continues to entertain even 100 years later, and which in every way that matters stands just as tall in 2023 as it did in 1923.
I don't think it's unreasonable to say that it's rather easy with silent movies to pause or resume suspension of disbelief at will. The division of the narrative into discrete scenes (aided by intertitles), and the relatively uncomplicated construction behind the scenes, often lend to a heightened sense of artificiality. The deception we accept as part of the social contract, that all we see before us is make-believe, is one that we can discard to more wholly admire the tremendous craftsmanship that went into the proceedings, and again take in hand to lose ourselves in the splendor of the story being told. Or - why not both at once? For that unique duality in no way diminishes the fabulous hard work that goes into these productions, nor the quality of the end result. From top to bottom 'Scaramouche' is shaped with fantastic skill, including not least John Seitz's vibrant cinematography, and Grant Whytock's keen editing. Rex Ingram, accomplished director that he was, proves the value of his reputation with masterful orchestration of every shot and scene: capturing every detail that the crew's labor assembled, and all the subtlety that that the players (and extras) exhibit in their terrific, absorbing performances. Whether adorned with illustrations or not (we get both, here), there's a lovely artistry even in the formulation of intertitles, or perhaps one might say, a lost art. And at the same time, the plot to greet us within is filled with a treasure trove of outright gifts for the adoring audience: class warfare, revolution, vengeance, anger, love, desperation, fear, purpose, momentum, tension, thrills, triumph, and more. Whatever it is you're looking for, this has got it, and more.
It is a feature that's as genuinely captivating and truly as well made as anything that has followed in all the subsequent years, if perhaps only to a slightly different set of standards. The writing is balanced and well-rounded in introducing a panoply of figures and weaving in so many different moods and ideas. As the saga builds it is most sincerely just as exhilarating as any comparable title one might name. To that point, one can recognize distinct similarities between this and adventure flicks to come, from 'The adventures of Robin Hood,' to more modern war films and action-thrillers, and in a way even extending to mega-millions blockbusters of the past several years. There's an immense grandeur to 'Scaramouche,' and a great intelligence, that still never loses sight of the need to let its audience have fun at the same time that they are awe-struck or even inspired. The picture dexterously dances twixt multiple converging threads, and aims to do so very much - and with the undeniable expertise of Ingram, his cast, his crew, and everyone else involved, it never misses a beat. I quite expected this to be enjoyable; I love movies of all kinds, and the silent era has a dear place in my heart. Still I'm impressed with just what Ingram, as both producer and director, was able to put together. I can only imagine that this was an enormous, challenging affair, because it certainly looks like it, but the efforts of all paid off handsomely. It's so wonderfully strong in terms of both storytelling and film-making, and the feelings and investment that it invites in the viewer, that I dare say this is a classic that could find favor even with those who tend to have difficulty engaging with older titles.
Suffice to say that I'm so very pleased with how excellent 'Scaramouche,' and frankly I can only give it my very highest, most enthusiastic recommendation. Though most do, not every piece from the earliest days of the medium hold up well. This one does, and is arguably more distinguished yet for soaring so loftily despite its technical limitations. One hundred years old, but it may as well be but a day: if you have the opportunity to watch this 1923 masterpiece, it is well worth anyone's time.
I don't think it's unreasonable to say that it's rather easy with silent movies to pause or resume suspension of disbelief at will. The division of the narrative into discrete scenes (aided by intertitles), and the relatively uncomplicated construction behind the scenes, often lend to a heightened sense of artificiality. The deception we accept as part of the social contract, that all we see before us is make-believe, is one that we can discard to more wholly admire the tremendous craftsmanship that went into the proceedings, and again take in hand to lose ourselves in the splendor of the story being told. Or - why not both at once? For that unique duality in no way diminishes the fabulous hard work that goes into these productions, nor the quality of the end result. From top to bottom 'Scaramouche' is shaped with fantastic skill, including not least John Seitz's vibrant cinematography, and Grant Whytock's keen editing. Rex Ingram, accomplished director that he was, proves the value of his reputation with masterful orchestration of every shot and scene: capturing every detail that the crew's labor assembled, and all the subtlety that that the players (and extras) exhibit in their terrific, absorbing performances. Whether adorned with illustrations or not (we get both, here), there's a lovely artistry even in the formulation of intertitles, or perhaps one might say, a lost art. And at the same time, the plot to greet us within is filled with a treasure trove of outright gifts for the adoring audience: class warfare, revolution, vengeance, anger, love, desperation, fear, purpose, momentum, tension, thrills, triumph, and more. Whatever it is you're looking for, this has got it, and more.
It is a feature that's as genuinely captivating and truly as well made as anything that has followed in all the subsequent years, if perhaps only to a slightly different set of standards. The writing is balanced and well-rounded in introducing a panoply of figures and weaving in so many different moods and ideas. As the saga builds it is most sincerely just as exhilarating as any comparable title one might name. To that point, one can recognize distinct similarities between this and adventure flicks to come, from 'The adventures of Robin Hood,' to more modern war films and action-thrillers, and in a way even extending to mega-millions blockbusters of the past several years. There's an immense grandeur to 'Scaramouche,' and a great intelligence, that still never loses sight of the need to let its audience have fun at the same time that they are awe-struck or even inspired. The picture dexterously dances twixt multiple converging threads, and aims to do so very much - and with the undeniable expertise of Ingram, his cast, his crew, and everyone else involved, it never misses a beat. I quite expected this to be enjoyable; I love movies of all kinds, and the silent era has a dear place in my heart. Still I'm impressed with just what Ingram, as both producer and director, was able to put together. I can only imagine that this was an enormous, challenging affair, because it certainly looks like it, but the efforts of all paid off handsomely. It's so wonderfully strong in terms of both storytelling and film-making, and the feelings and investment that it invites in the viewer, that I dare say this is a classic that could find favor even with those who tend to have difficulty engaging with older titles.
Suffice to say that I'm so very pleased with how excellent 'Scaramouche,' and frankly I can only give it my very highest, most enthusiastic recommendation. Though most do, not every piece from the earliest days of the medium hold up well. This one does, and is arguably more distinguished yet for soaring so loftily despite its technical limitations. One hundred years old, but it may as well be but a day: if you have the opportunity to watch this 1923 masterpiece, it is well worth anyone's time.