An indispensable part of the film year, MoMA’s To Save and Project showcases significant recent efforts to preserve important works of cinema. Now in its twenty-first year, TSAP offers intriguing glimpses into world cinema as well as the opportunity to reappraise Hollywood’s past.
This year’s edition opened with 7th Heaven, Frank Borzage’s 1927 romance. The premiere of a “new, upgraded digital restoration featuring improved image quality, stabilized intertitles, and the original color tints,” the film was shown with both live accompaniment and Fox Studio’s original Movietone score. Having seen previous restorations, I am surprised at what improvements are still possible without losing the movie’s essential film qualities.
TSAP continues to focus on the work of underappreciated directors like Hungarian-born Paul Fejos, represented here by Broadway (1929), a maudlin backstage melodrama enlivened by daring camerawork. Like his Lonesome, Broadway reveals Fejos as a director with vivid ideas but an unsure grasp of how to realize them.
Also returning to MoMA’s screens is the actor and director Lowell Sherman, whose The Greeks Had a Word for Them (1932) is one of the more delightful rediscoveries of the pre-Code era. Sherman, who appears as a womanizing pianist seduced against his will by a wily former showgirl (Broadway legend Ina Claire), directs with a focus and understanding of film language far beyond most of his studio contemporaries. Joining Claire as former chorines on the prowl for wealthy mates are Madge Evans and Joan Blondell. Remarkably mature in its depiction of beddings and betrayals, Greeks is also notable for its determinedly brassiere-free wardrobe.
Anthony Mann’s reputation has undergone a resurgence over the past few decades for his taut film noirs and his series of Westerns with James Stewart. A 4K digital restoration of Bend of the River (1952) makes apparent once again cinematographer Irving Glassberg’s spectacular Technicolor location footage of Oregon’s Mount Hood region.
I knew director Phil Karlson from superb thrillers like Kansas City Confidential and The Phenix City Story. I wasn’t prepared for Gunman’s Walk (1958), a brooding psychological Western about a domineering father (Van Heflin) and his two sons: withdrawn introvert Davy (James Darren) and budding psychopath Ed (Tab Hunter). In contrast to Anthony Mann, who surrounded Stewart with veteran supporting actors, Karlson wasn’t afraid to frontload his Western with teen heartthrobs.
Working from a script by Frank S. Nugent, Karlson uses deliberate pacing that takes the time to celebrate the West. Gunman’s Walk has expansive landscapes, thrilling sequences chasing horses on the range, and realistic accounts stockyards and Indian agencies.
Karlson also addresses just about all the complaints younger viewers make about classic Westerns. Especially for its era, the film is forward thinking about anti-Indian bigotry, age-appropriate romances, glorifying gunplay, and the corrosive effects of wealth. Its clear-eyed but cynical portrayal of a cold-blooded killer presages the work of directors like Ismael Rodríguez (Los hermanos del Hierro / My Son the Hero, 1961) and Sergio Leone.
Another Western in the series was The Post Telegrapher (1912), directed by and starring Francis Ford. Looking like a sullen Edgar Allan Poe, Ford plays the title role in a sort of daze. His costar Ann[a] Little has a refreshingly modern look and style, especially when she dons men’s clothes to impersonate a soldier. In a striking shot, she uses her hat to urge on her horse, her hair flying freely behind her. The film’s sweeping landscapes with their high horizons would become a signature of producer Thomas Ince’s Westerns. The George Lucas to D.W. Griffith’s Francis Ford Coppola, Ince had unerring commercial instincts and an unwillingness to risk his own money on projects.
The Post Telegrapher was shown with a recent discovery, The Craving (1918), restored by the Eye Filmmuseum from the only known surviving print. A cautionary tale about demon alcohol, The Craving was pushed on social media as a “John Ford” film. Younger brother to Francis and by 1919 an established director at Universal, John is listed in the credits as a director. In viewing the film, it’s not clear what his contributions were, other than a family preoccupation with drinking.
An introductory title card singles out how difficult the effects were to achieve, but frankly they’re not very impressive. At least not in this restoration. In several double-exposure sequences, characters are almost transparent in front of backgrounds. Francis Ford spends a lot of time—too much time—observing frolicking “spirits,” tiny women who play in the bubbles of his champagne glass. It’s a technique mastered as early as 1909 in Princess Nicotine, and Ford’s team has little of interest to add to it.
In fact, The Craving was overall a disappointment. In the six years since The Post Telegrapher, Ford seemed to have aged drastically. Even with improved film stock, his features look bloated and blurry, and his acting was stiff and unconvincing. In The Craving you can see someone working out their addiction issues onscreen. What you will not find are indications of how John Ford would become one of the most profound artists in cinema.
More about TSAP, including films by Emilio Fernández and Roberto Gavaldón, in the next roundup. The festival runs through January 30.
Photos (top: The Post Telegrapher; bottom: The Craving) courtesy Undercrank Productions.
