"The Pilgrimage to Kevlaar" is a fine-looking film for the period, including editing based on looks, some nighttime photography and other lighting effects. The Swedish Film Institute did a great job with the digital restoration, including the tinting/toning. But, the plotting and subject matter are extremely dull. Maybe more than the technical merits of a production this is what separates a Victor Sjöström or Mauritz Stiller from the filmmakers of this evangelical drivel. Despite being only about an hour long, it's a slog to get through, which isn't helped any by my having seen it without a score--truly, a silent film.
The first part consists mostly of shots of the disabled and sign-holders walking the streets for the titular Catholic pilgrimage. A mother decides to drag her grief-stricken son out of bed to join in the parade. An unpleasant lot this devout bunch, when not somberly marching, they chastise playing children and remain defiantly uninterested in stage entertainments. It's not until they reach the miracle-granting Mary idol that they get excited about something. The usual magic of making the disabled walk again or play a violin once more ensues.
Before the son prays his grief over his dead girlfriend away, the picture includes an extended flashback of some of the most boring courtship ever filmed. The highlight is when he reads to her poetry ogling her body for its resemblance to animals and other things. Eyes resembling a dove's, hair like a herd of goats, teeth like sheared sheep recently bathed, a neck that's the tower of David with a thousand shields, and breasts like gazelle twins grazing by the lilies... y'know, that sort of thing.
The ending involving a superimposed Mary descending from her idol--crown, staff, crucifixes and carrying an obvious doll that one assumes is supposed to be the Christ child--to grant the son's prayer and the mom's dream and response to the wish fulfillment is even worse.
The first part consists mostly of shots of the disabled and sign-holders walking the streets for the titular Catholic pilgrimage. A mother decides to drag her grief-stricken son out of bed to join in the parade. An unpleasant lot this devout bunch, when not somberly marching, they chastise playing children and remain defiantly uninterested in stage entertainments. It's not until they reach the miracle-granting Mary idol that they get excited about something. The usual magic of making the disabled walk again or play a violin once more ensues.
Before the son prays his grief over his dead girlfriend away, the picture includes an extended flashback of some of the most boring courtship ever filmed. The highlight is when he reads to her poetry ogling her body for its resemblance to animals and other things. Eyes resembling a dove's, hair like a herd of goats, teeth like sheared sheep recently bathed, a neck that's the tower of David with a thousand shields, and breasts like gazelle twins grazing by the lilies... y'know, that sort of thing.
The ending involving a superimposed Mary descending from her idol--crown, staff, crucifixes and carrying an obvious doll that one assumes is supposed to be the Christ child--to grant the son's prayer and the mom's dream and response to the wish fulfillment is even worse.
