User Reviews

This particular adaption of Rafael Sabatini's swashbuckling novel remains faithful to the original story. For those of us who are fans of the Errol Flynn version of The Sea Hawk and I consider it his best film, it has no resemblance to this silent film whatsoever.

In a way that's good because both versions can truly stand on their own merits. Milton Sills is the lead in this version, playing Sir Oliver Tressilian, prosperous landowner in Cornwall. He's looking to wed Enid Bennett who is the daughter of an adjacent estate, but Sills has two problems, her brother Wallace McDonald who doesn't think Sills's family is good enough and Sills's half brother Lloyd Hughes who wants Bennett for himself.

After this The Sea Hawk becomes a mixed version of The Master of Ballantrae and Ben-Hur. Sills is framed for McDonald's murder and captured by pirates who sell him to the Spaniards as a galley slave and then he gets rescued by the Moors.

When Sills gets rescued by the Moors it's his good fortune that the Pasha of Algiers takes a liking to him and he becomes their top pirate with the fearsome name of Sakr El-Bahr, The Sea Hawk.

The rest of the film follows a similar path of Sabatini's other work Captain Blood.

Warner Brothers when they remade The Sea Hawk though they didn't use the story certainly did retain several of the battle scenes which the viewer will immediately recognize. This version is every bit as grand and grandiose as the better known sound film. Sills and Bennett do indeed remind one of Errol Flynn and Brenda Marshall. And Sills in treading on territory that Douglas Fairbanks staked out delivers a fine performance, though without the flair for dramatics that Fairbanks had.

I'm definitely glad this silent classic is not lost.

In the brave, bold swashbuckling days when Queen Elizabeth reigned, and waves crashed mightily onto England's Cornish coast, seafaring knight Milton Sills (as Oliver "Noll" Tressilian) courts neighboring pretty Enid Bennett (as Rosamund Godolphin). Ms. Bennett's brother Wallace MacDonald (as Peter Godolphin) doesn't want her to wed Mr. Sills, calling him a "blood-thirsty buccaneer!" Their guardian, Marc McDermott (as John Killigrew), agrees, and swords are raised. Sills is merciful, but likewise handsome young half-brother Lloyd Hughes (as Lionel "Lal" Tressilian) kills Mr. MacDonald in a duel.

Covering for his beloved brother, Sills allows himself to be blamed for Mr. Hughes act. Hughes is anything but grateful, making a deal with dastardly Wallace Beery (as Jasper Leigh) that lands Sills on a slave ship. While using his muscular frame on a ship's galley slave row, Stills gets cozy with partner Albert Prisco (as Yusuf-Ben-Moktar). The brawny men successfully break the chains that bind them, but Mr. Prisco dies in sniper fire. Making his escape, Stills rejects Christianity and converts to the Moslem faith of his deceased friend. Sills changes his name to "Sakr-el-Bahr" ("The Sea Hawk"), and enacts his revenge...

"The Sea Hawk" had audiences coming back for multiple viewings, and was a big hit for First National; it also moved director Frank Lloyd further into the small circle of epic filmmakers. The film boasts big - and big-looking, thanks to Lloyd's incredible use of the picture frame - production values; and, it is beautifully paced. Watch how well Lloyd fills the screen during the "interrupted wedding" between Hughes and Bennett. Much of the seafaring footage was plundered to insert in later Warner Bros. films - and, it's likely not all of the stolen scenes were returned to the original; witness, for example, Sills' escape from slavery.

Critically acclaimed, as well as popular, "The Sea Hawk" was cited as the year's "Best Picture" by "Motion Picture" magazine. "Photoplay" declared "The Dramatic Life of Abraham Lincoln" the winner, while "Film Daily" had "The Thief of Bagdad" edging out "The Sea Hawk" by one vote. Moreover, the later two immediately began placing high on "all-time" greatest film lists. The heroic Sills may be uncommonly staid; but, in hindsight, this is preferable to the usual overplaying. Hughes performed exceptionally; he rose to #6 in a "Motion Picture" star poll, with Sills behind at #13. Bennett has relatively little to do, but Mr. Berry certainly makes a good impression; soon, he would become the biggest star from the cast, which has a dozen notable actors.

******** The Sea Hawk (6/2/24) Frank Lloyd ~ Milton Sills, Lloyd Hughes, Wallace Beery, Enid Bennett

Long thought lost or incomplete the Sea Hawk survives much the way i was seen in 1924. A long costume film about pirates it was directed by the dependable Frank Lloyd and stars Milton Sills. My only complaint with the DVD is that the film has been bathed in re-tint & re-tone. The color at times can be so rich one can't see details in the film. I'd much rather have seen the movie in pure black & white. At times this movie can remind one of Ben-Hur released a year later, especially in the at-sea sequences. As far as the filmmaking, everything is top notch but it is still 1924. That camera will not move but the pictorial capture is beautiful. Lloyd is dependable and like many Hollywood directors he won't give anything more than dependability. Kind of like Harry Beaumont directing Beau Brummel that same year. Lloyd, at least at this time, won't think of panning the camera or a deep soft focus as would King Vidor or Alan Crosland. But what he gives us is exquisite & exciting. I was glad to finally see this film after so many years. dir. Frank Lloyd, First National.

A brave English knight, betrayed by his brother, kidnapped by pirates, and captured by Spaniards, takes up a new identity under the Moors as 'Sakr-el-Bahr,' -the Sea Hawk - to become the scourge & terror of the Spanish navy near Gibraltar.

Although sadly neglected for years, this is a splendid swashbuckler, full of action & romance, which should please the fans of silent cinema adventure. Much more faithful to Rafael Sabatini's original novel than the Errol Flynn 1940 version, this is a film which can stand on its own worthy merits. Given excellent production values by First National, the rousing sea battle sequences are especially worthy of mention. Using full scale ships, they possess an aura of authenticity not possible with models. Indeed, some of these nautical scenes were extracted for years for use in other films.

Milton Sills gives a grand performance as the hero. Although lacking in bravura athletic skills, he becomes almost Fairbankian by the film's conclusion. (He even resembles Fairbanks in the shipboard scenes, surely no mere accident.) Appearing in movies since 1914, this was the film which made Sills a major star, and he would be given other popular, courageous roles before his career - and life - were ended by a heart attack in 1930, at the age of 48. Although he had appeared in 85 films, Milton Sills is all but forgotten today.

Beefy Wallace Beery, blustering & bullying as usual, steals all his scenes as a pirate captain who becomes Sills' toady. Enid Bennett is beautiful as the young Cornish woman beloved by the Sea Hawk. Lloyd Hughes gives a good performance as Sills' faithless half-brother. Wallace MacDonald is the very picture of a violent young bully. Lionel Belmore appears briefly as a friendly magistrate. Elderly Frank Currier & young William Collier Jr. both do well in roles that exude Moorish duplicity. Quick eyed movie mavens may spot George O'Brien as a galley slave.

Although the film has been tinted & toned, notice the nice extra touch during the 3 shots of the Basha's nighttime visit to the Sea Hawk, in which the flickering torches have been hand colored a theatric yellow.

Composer Robert Israel has given the film's restored print a very fine organ score which interpolates familiar melodies from as far afield as Gilbert & Sullivan.

I joined this film in progress on TCM earlier this month. Well this film kept me riveted to my seat. Milton Sills' performance is so impressive, so dashing, so heroic that I was completely enchanted. The magic of movie-making. While this film has none of the advantages of modern special effects and lighting and so forth it is nevertheless a slam-bang, rip-roaring, adventure romance. There is something in this film that permits one to fully enter within the story, to suspend disbelief and to experience, if for that brief time, a land of fantasy that entertains as well as elevates. Superlatives are not hyperbole when it comes to The Sea Hawk.

In the 1920s motion pictures were bigger than at any other time. They were big in all directions, and their bigness was all the more impressive because it was based in doing everything for real. The widescreen epics of the 1950s may be more readily called to mind, but in truth they cut corners and tricked the eye wherever possible. The Sea Hawk is a nautical adventure with real ships, real mansions and palaces, real hordes of extras, all purposely built or acquired for one colossus of a production.

Producer-director Frank Lloyd was great at this sort of thing, an expert in blending the large canvas with the small. He opens with a cavernous shot of the protagonist's home, showing off both the height and depth of the lavish set in what is a typical piece of mid-20s extravagance. It's not dwelt on though. While Lloyd eschews close-ups, the majority of his action takes place in delicately composed mid-shots, encouraging the actors to play out their scene with the minimum of fuss. He doesn't move the camera very much but movement within the frame is crucial to Lloyd's style. Rather than fashioning action scenes with lots of rapid cross-cutting, as was the norm back then, he uses gradual shifts in the image, building up tension before a big sea battle by having the attacking ship slowly hove into view. In a shot of dozens of men fighting on deck, the focus is changed as the two opposing captains cut across the foreground. Lloyd even uses things moving on or off the screen for emotional effect, as in Sir Oliver's poignant farewell to his loyal corsairs.

Big in scope, The Sea Hawk is also big in story and may seem a little slow-paced at times. It is a bit frustrating that we are thirty-five minutes into the two-hour runtime before our seafaring hero is actually bounding over the main (that means "at sea", landlubbers). Luckily however, the Rafael Sabatini source novel is pure adventuresome fare, and even on dry land we get plenty of duels and dastardly intrigue. The lengthy runtime also serves to give the story a sense of stature, making Sir Oliver's adventures seem like an odyssey taking place over many years, rather than the simple caper on the briny that a mere 90 minutes would be.

A big production demands big stars. However lead man Milton Sills was not quite in the front rank of stars, and is more or less forgotten today. While not up there with Douglas Fairbanks and Ramon Navarro he can hold his own, with subtle, naturalistic acting and a very piercing gaze. In fact there are smooth understated performances all round, leading lady Enid Bennett refreshingly calm in an era when most actresses were required to go into over-the-top hysterics at the drop of a hatpin. Her scene with Sills as they kiss-and-make-up after his duel with Godolphin is absolutely sublime, and typical of the kind of tasteful melodrama that Frank Lloyd oversaw. The only player who is a bit hammy is Lloyd Hughes, who portrays the hero's double-dealing brother. Hughes looks uncannily like unsung silent comic Charley Chase. I must also mention Wallace Beery who, putting on his best lovable rogue act, is excellent as always. He can draw attention to himself without ever once appearing to show off, standing out from the crowd in the victory march after the corsairs' return from England with that little extra swagger in his step.

The large pictures of the 1950s have been lambasted by some critics, both then and now, as being overblown and soulless behemoths. You have to admire the audacity of these silent epics however, made with the seemingly limitless resources of the roaring twenties, and complete with confidence in their own scale. Rather than seeing what they could knock together on the back lot, they would actually put out to sea and do it all for real. And nothing, not even the most advanced CGI, can top that. But to do that and still tell the human story with tact and dignity is a feat indeed. In fact, compared to the 1950s epics, where the whole point was to show off the big set-pieces (and thus compete with TV), The Sea Hawk is not especially ostentatious. The big ships and buildings are there, but we aren't made to marvel at them; they are simply there because they should be, a very expensive yet faithful backdrop. And the genuine nature of this backdrop brings The Sea Hawk to us as a real-life adventure. If only all epic cinema could be like this.

Sea Hawk, The (1924)

*** (out of 4)

Oliver Tressilian (Milton Sills) goes from a rich man to slave and then works his way back up in this faithful adaptation of Rafael Sabatini's famous novel. Most people know the 1940 Errol Flynn version, which is considered a major classic but that version left me rather flat when i watched it a couple years ago. This silent version isn't a classic but to me it's somewhat more entertaining. The funny thing is that I praised the Flynn version for various battle scenes but it turns out that many of them were lifted from this film because Warner felt they couldn't top the scenes here. The battle scenes here are certainly the highlight and the slave mutiny is full of excitement. Sills, a major star in the silent era who is now forgotten, delivers a very strong performance but the screenplay doesn't offer him too much outside the lover/fighter part. Wallace Beery is also good in his role as another Captain but Enid Bennett is rather lame as the love interest. Towards the end of the film there's some nice tinted scenes but the real surprise was the hand colored flames, which appear in three scenes.

All right, I want to add a few things. First of all there are 2 films, not 2 film versions. The 1924 silent version adheres to the book, which I bought and read many years ago. I see that some battles scenes were lifted from this version. For a silent film it is very good. The 1940 version is very good as well. It's political sea drama between England and Spain. There is a galley and escape scene. There are sea battles with sound (which would not be hard updating the silent film.

I believe that Raphael Sabatini's version deserves to be remade. If you read Captain Blood, it reads like a film. The book The Seahawk is a great read. Check it out for yourself.

Modern filmmakers use computer generated images (CGI) to create an entire palate of special effects, including multi-mast battleships engaged in conflict. Previously, producers relied on miniature boats to show sea battles. But director Frank Lloyd, when he was tasked to reenact a 16th-century naval battle, wasn't going down that little ship route. He wanted--and demanded--real life-sized sailing vessels to film more realistic scenes he felt appealed to a more sophisticated movie audience cinema was attracting in the mid-1920s.

The industry buzz upon the premier of June 1924's "The Sea Hawk" was theaters had never seen anything like it before. The public was amazed with its realistic portrayal of the 1500's nautical world. Word of mouth sent flocks of the curious into the movie houses, making Lloyd's gamble pay off as "The Sea Hawk" became the number one box office motion picture for 1924.

Author Rafael Sabatini was famous for three romance and adventure novels: 1915's 'The Sea Hawk,' 1921's 'Scaramouche' and 1922's 'Captain Blood.' Frank Lloyd, later praised for his Academy Awards Best Picture 1935 'Mutiny on The Bounty' directing, took Sabatini's story about a half-brother setting up his half-sibling, Sir Oliver (Milton Sills), to a murder he didn't commit in order to marry his fiancé. Amidst of all this family-affair intrigue was an exciting seafaring tale. Captured by the Barbary Pirates off the coast of North Africa, Sir Oliver earns the name The Sea Hawk for his skill in fighting and tactical brilliance, rising up the pirate ranks until he's one of the best sea commanders in the world.

Lloyd's team of designers and builders retrofitted five ships to resemble 1500's sailing vessels. He filmed all the ocean scenes off the coast of California's Catalina Island. A film crew and extras numbered in the high hundreds were stationed on the island. A United States Navy destroyer towed the large sailboats to their destinations for filming as well as had the extras come on board to feed them during the day.

When Warner Brothers remade "The Sea Hawk" in 1940 with Errol Flynn, the studio changed the story but reused some of the 1924 nautical battle scenes, so impressive were those sequences, 16 years after they were filmed. The New York Times film critic at the time gave Lloyd's movie a thumbs up, writing "far and away the best sea story that's yet been done up to that point."

Oh, silent movies. Narratives are divided into discrete scenes (owing at least partly to the use of intertitles), and the technology and productions at large are relatively simple. Acting was often characterized by exaggerated facial expressions and body language, both carried over from the stage and to some degree necessitated by the lack of sound and verbal dialogue. All this serves to inculcate in some measure an air of artificiality that's furthered by those more recent titles (e.g. 2022's 'Babylon,' or the Coen brothers' 'Hail, Caesar!') that largely explore the industry, and I can understand why some modern viewers have a harder time engaging with older features. And still, the silent era was a magical time in the history of cinema that the medium has a very hard time recapturing, and those same qualities that may limit engagement are nonetheless part of the special whimsy. At least in retrospect it often seems easier to willfully dispense with or again take in hand suspension of disbelief to simultaneously admire the wonderful craftsmanship of a title from behind the scenes, and indulge in the fabulous story being told. One has a harder time doing this with the major complexity of twenty-first century fare like Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the rings' adaptations. Rex Ingram's rousing 1923 spectacle 'Scaramouche' was a fine example of this duality - and Frank Lloyd's 'The Sea Hawk' is another. This is a grand, highly entertaining extravaganza that by the standards of 1920 was an enormous affair, and I'm so tremendously pleased that it continues to stand tall in ways that even many pictures to follow in the entire past century sometimes struggle to achieve.

What here is not to love? We're presented with an epic, stirring tale of love, betrayal, and vengeance, shady dealings and huge battles, quiet thoughtfulness and bombastic splendor, and a great host of extras to help bring it all to life. The production design, art direction, and indeed costume design are plainly elaborate and truly magnificent, a real treat as a viewer, and smaller details like hair, makeup, props, and weapons are a scant half-step behind. All the many stunts, effects, and action sequences that are employed are a welcome, awe-inspiring marvel, surely on par with anything Hollywood has given us in the past several decades and if anything only beholden to different standards of the time. From the credited stars all the way down the line to extras who might only be seen in passing, every single person in the cast gives vibrant, wholehearted performances of vigor, ardor, and total earnestness, a delight to witness. The filming locations are gorgeous, the intertitles themselves are rendered with beautiful illustrations, and Norbert F. Brodin's dynamic, mindful cinematography takes in all the slightest minutiae of every vision before us. And in his double role as producer and director, Lloyd effectively had carte blanche to make exactly the movie he wanted, how and as he wanted - and he succeeded with flying colors. He orchestrates shots and scenes, and guides his gargantuan cast, with a flair for the grandiose, sensational, and dramatic, and an undeniably expert hand: making utmost use of all the resources at his disposal, and ensuring 'The Sea Hawk' was the biggest and best that it could be. And it absolutely was, to the point that it's still a captivating classic 99 years on.

Two hours pass incredibly quickly, and frankly too much so. I don't mean to say that the feature is light on narrative (far, far from it), or too briskly paced (it's just right, as a matter of fact) - but rather, it's a tale so rich and absorbing that one only wishes it were far longer, at least twice its extant length, so that we could soak in the grandeur all the more. If there are any criticisms to meaningfully be leveled here, it's simply an unfortunate tinge of indelicacy in how the film approaches a culture, and a religion, outside the predominant British-American purview. There are stereotypes on hand, or at least a sense of othering, and this is not helped by casting white actors as characters who ostensibly hail from Spain, and North Africa, and applying brownface to them. This is not a fault exclusive to this movie, of course - it is one example among many from the silent era, and the sound era heading even into the 1960s and beyond (see: 'Lawrence of Arabia'), and the industry still has troubles in other ways with casting actors in roles that are not theirs to have (e.g. Hollywood's live-action 'Ghost in the shell,' or 'The Danish girl'). Nor does that excuse Lloyd and the industry of the 1920s from these same foibles. However, with that said, I don't think 'The Sea Hawk' is necessarily as awful with such follies as other titles have been, and just as much to the point, I don't believe it's an issue that severely detracts from the fantastic, immensely enjoyable reverie the feature otherwise represents. This is just about as epic as epics could get in the earliest years of cinema, a stupendous, engrossing journey the likes of which have been relatively few in all the long years of the medium. And it's so, so very well done.

Once more, I can understand how the silent era doesn't hold appeal for all comers; I'd have said the same of myself at one time. Yet some of the best movies ever made come from that period before audio technology was developed, movies from the likes of Buster Keaton, F. W. Murnau, Victor Sjöström, and more. Such movies of so high a quality transcend any limits one might decree, I feel - and then there are those like 'The Sea Hawk' that, despite differences in their fundamental construction, are just as unremittingly exciting, and downright thrilling, as any pictures to follow in the years to come. So excellent is this in its telling of adventure and drama, especially with such outstanding seafaring battle sequences, that I rather feel it might even serve as a gateway to early cinema for those viewers who commonly have a hard time abiding it. Yes, I quite expected I would enjoy this, as I already very much love silent features, but still I'm deeply pleased at how terrific the end result is here. Lloyd, his cast, his crew, and all others involved have assembled an exquisite, rousing exhibition of boundless skilled craftsmanship, and its luster hasn't dulled one bit in all this time. That it shows its age with traits shared by other features is regrettable, yet is not so dire a matter as to substantially quash one's experience. When all is said and done I don't know what else to say - 'The Sea Hawk' is a brilliant, riveting saga, a classic picture that continues to enchant, and is well worth seeking out however one must go about it. Bravo!