sfsff - part two

Jujiro photo courtesy of San Francisco Silent Film Festival

The rest of what I saw during the marathon weekend of the SF Silent Film Festival:

JUJIRO (1928, Teinosuke Kinugasa) is clearly the stand-out of the weekend for being surrealist while still maintaining a narrative. The spinning spheres and circles in the fun house were a beautiful repeating theme, as were the use of shadows including one of a spoked wheel that mimicked the national flag of Japan - a ghostly shadow of a rising sun. Dissolves interspersed with quick cuts, all within a scene. Breath-fog, body steam and rain-dusted hair.

Although not nearly as fractured, a lot of it reminded me of "Fall of the House of Usher" (1926-28, Watson Jr. and Webber) and indeed much of the imagery is repeated- dropped knife for a falling hammer, shadowy sets, sleeping faces, staircases.

The musical accompaniment by Stephen Horne involved experimental techniques as well, rubbing over the surface of the piano strings, plucking them or playing flute and piano at the same time. His score didn't strictly follow the action, sometimes adding a note for punctuation for what just occurred on-screen. Very effective and well matched.

It was preceded by KALEIDOSCOPE (1925), a short experiment with color film produced by Kodak. Nine minutes of trance-induction. Watching the constantly evolving images brought on a sense of loss; even though the replacements were just as beautiful, I wanted to hold on just a little longer.

Also saw:
HER WILD OAT 1927 directed by Marshall Neilan
THE PATSY 1928 directed by King Vidor
Both rollicking comedies, both featuring charming leading actresses.

LES DEUX TIMIDES 1928 directed by Rene Clair
Another rollicking comedy but with great set decoration by art director Lazare Meerson.

MIKAEL 1924 directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer
More great set design, here by Hugo Haring. Karl Freund not only contributed his cinematography skills but played the small part of an art dealer.

SILENT ENEMY 1930 directed by H P Carver
Absolutely gorgeous outdoor photography from Marcel Le Picard. The mist rising from the river and the many scenes in the snow are beautifully captured. I was also impressed by the action happening underneath the intertitles, which were often superimposed over the images.

I purposely missed catching THE MAN WHO LAUGHS as I'd just posted that one. I also passed on THE UNKNOWN as I'd already seen it too. Guy Maddin translated the French intertitles live, but I'd heard from some who watched that felt he gave this sad, sensitive film a campy edge. I would've thought the Castro Theatre crowd would have more compassion for such a troubled character - I'm glad now I didn't stay to hear people laughing at Lon Chaney.