Though the premise rather clearly indicates as much, from the outset it's worth observing some indelicacies. With chief character Blizzard defined primarily by the loss of both his legs, there's language employed herein to describe him that is at best no longer considered acceptable one hundred years later, and some instances of words or attitudes are much worse than others. Even more to the point, the narrative plays with the tired, ableist trope of disability being the driving backstory for a character's descent into villainy. Moreover, as the plot goes on we find that it also toys with the alarmist notion of the "Red Scare," and some plain old xenophobia; though less prominent, there's a distinct element of sexism with the suggestion that women should seek fulfillment in marriage to a man and nowhere else. None of these are insurmountable barriers to enjoying a surviving silent film, but in one measure or another they place upper limits on our enjoyment, and they must be acknowledged and recognized as the archaic relics that they are.
Such are the indelicacies that trouble 'The penalty,' and there is some definite inelegance, too. Without any need for sound or verbal dialogue, and sometimes even through image integrity that deteriorated over time, some pictures of the silent era illustrate a mastery of subtlety in conveying characters' thoughts and feelings, in establishing a broad mood, or simply in storytelling. This is not an example of such a picture, as scenes and beats (e.g., a character changing their mind about something) quite tend to progress with a delineation more closely resembling an outline than fluid prose. For the most part this is not an outright flaw, only a notable trait - until the last several minutes, when there comes a twist in the plot, precipitating the finale, that makes reasonable sense for this narrative fiction but which under the circumstances comes off as unfortunate deus ex machina. Further emphasizing the point: for lack of a nuanced, tactful hand, the impact of the last scene and intertitle is considerably diminished, and it also feels like there are facets of the plot that remain unresolved. None of this makes the viewing experience "bad," but it is certainly dampened.
Be all that as it may, for all those issues that hound this 1920 movie in one capacity or another, by and large it's still generally well made and entertaining. The narrative at large is decidedly unrefined and marked by indiscretions, but it has good bones. Whether it was Gouverneur Morris' novel, Charles Kenyon and Philip Lonergan's adaptation, or director Wallace Worsley's treatment of it that was in need of more polish I don't know, but the story has good ideas as its foundation, even carrying slight tinges of horror akin to other features in the first few decades of the medium. Somewhat constrained by the nature of the material and its realization, nonetheless the cast give appreciable performances, with Claire Adams and Ethel Grey Terry somewhat standing out - and of course Lon Chaney, with his gift for expression, unquestionably and rightfully belongs in the spotlight as Blizzard. That holds true even more given his immense skills in changing his appearance with makeup, and his commitment to the role in terms of his lower appendages is rather admirable; this might well be worth watching for him alone, if we're being honest. And that brings us to what may be the other primary highlight of 'The penalty,' which is all the work of those behind the scenes. Chaney may have done much of the heavy lifting, but Worsley and cinematographer Donovan Short are both to be commended as well for shooting the title in such a way that the effect (hiding Chaney's legs) is absolutely complete. Other effects or stunts here are less noteworthy, but look fantastic all the same; the costume design, hair, and makeup are swell. And the sets are altogether terrific, reflecting some minor ingenuity that again lends genre flavors. Most facets of 'The penalty' look great and come off well.
I should say that I did have a good time watching. There is a lot to like here, and a lot of hard work went into the picture with fine results. Those who are already enamored with the silent era will get the most out of it, but there is value here on its own merits, let alone as one of Chaney's earliest surviving credits. I just wish that the writing had been developed more, because even setting aside aspects that just don't look good as a matter of how society and social consciousness have changed and grown over the intervening decades, there are rough spots throughout that have a negative effect on the overall quality. One way or another I think it's worth watching, with the caveat that it bears noteworthy faults and some bits that will particularly and reasonably rankle some viewers. Don't go out of your way for 'The penalty,' but if you have the opportunity to check it out it's a decent watch for a quiet day.
Such are the indelicacies that trouble 'The penalty,' and there is some definite inelegance, too. Without any need for sound or verbal dialogue, and sometimes even through image integrity that deteriorated over time, some pictures of the silent era illustrate a mastery of subtlety in conveying characters' thoughts and feelings, in establishing a broad mood, or simply in storytelling. This is not an example of such a picture, as scenes and beats (e.g., a character changing their mind about something) quite tend to progress with a delineation more closely resembling an outline than fluid prose. For the most part this is not an outright flaw, only a notable trait - until the last several minutes, when there comes a twist in the plot, precipitating the finale, that makes reasonable sense for this narrative fiction but which under the circumstances comes off as unfortunate deus ex machina. Further emphasizing the point: for lack of a nuanced, tactful hand, the impact of the last scene and intertitle is considerably diminished, and it also feels like there are facets of the plot that remain unresolved. None of this makes the viewing experience "bad," but it is certainly dampened.
Be all that as it may, for all those issues that hound this 1920 movie in one capacity or another, by and large it's still generally well made and entertaining. The narrative at large is decidedly unrefined and marked by indiscretions, but it has good bones. Whether it was Gouverneur Morris' novel, Charles Kenyon and Philip Lonergan's adaptation, or director Wallace Worsley's treatment of it that was in need of more polish I don't know, but the story has good ideas as its foundation, even carrying slight tinges of horror akin to other features in the first few decades of the medium. Somewhat constrained by the nature of the material and its realization, nonetheless the cast give appreciable performances, with Claire Adams and Ethel Grey Terry somewhat standing out - and of course Lon Chaney, with his gift for expression, unquestionably and rightfully belongs in the spotlight as Blizzard. That holds true even more given his immense skills in changing his appearance with makeup, and his commitment to the role in terms of his lower appendages is rather admirable; this might well be worth watching for him alone, if we're being honest. And that brings us to what may be the other primary highlight of 'The penalty,' which is all the work of those behind the scenes. Chaney may have done much of the heavy lifting, but Worsley and cinematographer Donovan Short are both to be commended as well for shooting the title in such a way that the effect (hiding Chaney's legs) is absolutely complete. Other effects or stunts here are less noteworthy, but look fantastic all the same; the costume design, hair, and makeup are swell. And the sets are altogether terrific, reflecting some minor ingenuity that again lends genre flavors. Most facets of 'The penalty' look great and come off well.
I should say that I did have a good time watching. There is a lot to like here, and a lot of hard work went into the picture with fine results. Those who are already enamored with the silent era will get the most out of it, but there is value here on its own merits, let alone as one of Chaney's earliest surviving credits. I just wish that the writing had been developed more, because even setting aside aspects that just don't look good as a matter of how society and social consciousness have changed and grown over the intervening decades, there are rough spots throughout that have a negative effect on the overall quality. One way or another I think it's worth watching, with the caveat that it bears noteworthy faults and some bits that will particularly and reasonably rankle some viewers. Don't go out of your way for 'The penalty,' but if you have the opportunity to check it out it's a decent watch for a quiet day.