Silent Films

Modern Times

Häxan

This week we’re tackling an era of film that I’ve avoided for awhile because, much like noir and superhero movies, it is so highly-esteemed and well-protected by its fans: the silent film era. I try to keep this blog as varied, unpredictable, yet as well-rounded as possible, so I knew that I would eventually have to view some silent films. But given my lack of proper film-schooling and my lack of a proper attention span, I never felt particularly drawn to silent films. I had read about Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, Clara Bow and Greta Garbo, and who could forget Drew Barrymore’s grandpa John Barrymore, but I didn’t have an overwhelming urge to see any silent films until I watched my first one. (Okay, technically it was my second one because I was actually first forced to watch Birth of a Nation in my intro to film studies class, and I’ll never get those two hours and five minutes back 😩) In college I took a horror film class (the only time I’ve ever known more than my professor) and we watched the 1920 German silent horror film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. I was so blown away by this film, and its ability to scare me with nothing but makeup, mirrors, towering set pieces, and a chilling premise. How naive I was to question a silent film’s capacity to entertain and entrance me, and how embarrassed I am to only just now begin my silent film viewership—but now that I am interested, I am overwhelmed with viewing options! A great deal of the earliest moving pictures ever made are considered to be either lost or destroyed due to the use of highly flammable and unstable nitrate film, and also due to the fact that many films were intentionally destroyed by studios for wholesale junking. There was no thought of ever saving these films, they simply needed vault space and the materials were expensive to house, plus studios could earn money by recycling the films for their silver content. It’s been estimated that around 75% of silent films produced in the US are lost, though we’ll never know the exact amount. This is why film preservation is so important, why I will always condone piracy, why I own so many DVDs and VHS tapes, and why my philosophy is that you should watch whatever movies you can, while you can. Because I always end up breaking my own theme choices, I began with a film from 1936, well into the era of “talkies” and well outside the era of purely non-talking films: Charlie Chaplin’s hilariously incendiary dark comedy, Modern Times. While no silent films of the true silent film era were truly silent due to the use of live music and sound effects, this film had the option to be made with fully audible dialogue but Chaplin decided against it. This is not only Charlie Chaplin’s last film where he portrays his character the Little Tramp, it is the first time audiences ever heard his voice (though only briefly), and it is often regarded as his best film. Modern Times follows the Little Tramp as he works tirelessly with other men at a busy and tightly-run factory. He works so hard and so quickly, that even after the items on the assembly line finish, his hands continue to do the same mechanisms over and over again. He quickly becomes overworked, overstressed, and suffers a nervous breakdown, which lands him first in a treatment facility, then accidentally leading a communist protest, then jail, then back in the free world where he realizes, shit, he doesn’t wanna work anymore. And who can blame him? Along the way, a clear portrait is being painted of the rising industrialism in America, and the demand for hard labor in a time when hardly anyone could feed or house themselves. People were clamoring for work that would inevitably kill them or give them lifelong ailments. Modern Times expressed the many horrors of the Great Depression, the growing divide between the upper and lower class, and the threat of rising industrialization while still managing to be funny. Its commentary on capitalism and needless industrialization came packaged in a steady stream of slapstick and sightgags, but none of the subject matter was funny. If it weren’t for the Little Tramp meeting Ellen (Paulette Goddard [who was serving a little bit of Pauline Chalamet]), this story would be much darker. But Chaplin, who, as I watched this just further-confirmed that he invented comedy, kept this film light and enjoyable and hilarious with his highly-expressive face and his tiny, odd little bod. As obvious as it may sound, it’s always astounding to me to watch something from a very long time ago, and find that it is still applicable or relevant. But Charlie Chaplin really had his finger on the pulse in terms of what was funny, and what was worth talking about. As he told this tale of industrial destruction and impossible social standards, he often looked over at the camera, into the audience’s eyes, as if to tell us that, he, too, is in disbelief. And in addition to his timeless comedic sensibilities, Chaplin clearly understood that there is no winning the rat race, and there will always be more for the rich and less for the poor in terms of basic human rights. It was a salient and scathing critique of his modern day and age, and yet it would hardly be his most controversial movie—that would be The Great Dictator, which he would make four years later. The 1922 Swedish film Häxan (or Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages as it was retitled when it was released in the US, decades later) is perhaps more controversial, due to its experimental style of storytelling and its graphic (for the time) horror imagery. *Willem Dafoe voice* I’m a bit of a witch myself, so this was required viewing for me, but I completely understand if this film isn’t for everyone. Häxan portrays centuries-worth of history and lore surrounding witchcraft and witches, through the use of documentary-style storytelling, and striking dramatizations. I also took a class in college that was called Witchcraft, Wives, and Womanhood or something like that, and I am beyond disappointed and confused why this film was not even referenced in this class. If I were teaching a class on the history of the persecution of women, I would certainly at least mention this film—one that documents the age-old perception of femininity as threatening, and our desire as human beings to blame unexplainable events on the supernatural, but whatever… I’ll level with you, even as a witch, I found it very difficult to get into this film. I did feel a bit like I was sitting in class as I was watching this, because Häxan really begins as an 1920s-style power point presentation. When the man conducting this presentation, Benjamin Christensen, mentioned that there would be seven parts to this dissertation, I’m pretty sure I let out an audible “ugh”, but I stuck with it, and I’m really glad that I did. With incredible and innovative use of practical effects, makeup, stop motion, reversed shots, and intricate set pieces, I was shocked with what this film was able to accomplish. And while I lamented the slowness of the beginning of this film, it still held my attention with its animation of text. It’s one thing to read about fire and brimstone and eternal damnation, it is another to observe it. The images were described in excellent detail, and then beautifully brought to life with smoke and light and a genuinely freaky Satan with his tongue perpetually hanging out (played by the director, himself). Häxan conducted a comprehensive explanation and exploration of witchcraft through every era and period of human existence: from medieval anxieties of illnesses and odd occurrences, to the Salem witch trials, to nuns being possessed by the devil, to the “present”-day ailment of the feminine kind dubbed as “hysteria”—all of which were spurred by a fear of the unknown, and a fear of the patriarchy losing its power. This terror was so abundant and inherent in society that they seemingly manifested witches and witchcraft, which often resulted in tragedy, followed by the classic excuse of “the devil made me do it”. There are so many angles and perspectives shown in Häxan, and so much attention to detail. Where I really became interested in this film was toward the end, when they discussed the “modern”-day application of superstition, and how paranoid we all still are. As Christensen puts it, “let’s not believe the devil exists solely in the past”, because our collective, societal fear is so powerful, we give the devil life. Christensen very cleverly catalogues the history of female persecution: from the witch trials and torture of the othered, to the over-diagnosing of hysteria in female patients. Were he still alive today, I wonder if he’d then include the present-day subjugation and legislative control of feminine bodies, because “pro-life!” really just doesn’t feel too far off from “burn her!”. Chrsitensen does say, rather aptly, “We no longer burn our old or our poor, but do they not still suffer bitterly?”. The way history is portrayed in Häxan was shockingly well done and alarmingly relevant. The imagery was stunning and delightfully terrifying at times, and given that Christensen warned that two signs of a witch are sleepwalking and a bad back, just cemented the fact that I am indeed a witch. The silent film era was a time of creative and technological feats, beyond what we could even comprehend accomplishing today. Don’t miss out on silent films, and don’t miss out on next week’s blog. Ta ta, witches. 👹