I recently had the chance to discover a silent film gem called Lonesome courtesy of the Criterion Collection. I’m always amazed at how the fine folks at Criterion keep unearthing these lost classics, from even as far back as 1928. That the film’s celluloid has even survived the ravages of time is a miracle in the first place.
Lonesome’s story is simple: middle-class working man and woman (Jim and Mary) feel a sense of isolation among teeming masses living in New York then happen to meet at a Coney Island carnival. Jim is played by Glenn Tryon and Mary played by Barbara Kent. Both are masterful and conveying emotions and ideas using only facial expressions and body language. Their meeting, after much coercion from Jim and resistance from Mary, leads to a blossoming love. Too quickly over the course of one afternoon at the carnival? Perhaps, but it’s the movies after all and magic does happen.
Silent films are a visual treat primarily and allow the viewer to focus fully on the moving picture, a decided advantage in my humble opinion. But in the case of Lonesome, included are several scenes of dialogue since the film was produced on the cusp of the talkie revolution. (These dialogue scenes are a bit clumsy and do seem rather tacked on and gimmicky.) Apparently the talking scenes were added at the behest of a studio executive wanting to cash in on the talkie craze.
The film is mostly in black and white but also there are scenes that utilize color, mostly in the carnival scenes, and to a surreal,head-spinning effect. In fact, I have never seen so much confetti thrown on screen. The director, Paul Fejos, does a masterful job of conveying the madness of the Coney Island carnival with lights, colors, and teeming hordes of people looking for an escape. The sudden use of color is startling for a film of this vintage, especially when the first half is in black and white. But it’s not the type of movie color we’re used to, it has a more hand-drawn and otherworldly appearance. Some would accuse the color of existing only to draw attention to itself but I think it only serves to enhance Fejos’ artistic vision.
There is a sublimely gorgeous moment in Lonesome when our two lovers embrace in front of a night sky and moon in one of those gossamer-tinged images that can only exist in the movies, especially from the silent era. This image is the stuff of which dreams are made and encapsulates our protagonists’ pathos, dreams for meeting the love of one’s life, for escaping the doldrums of the workplace, for hoping for a better future. The image must be one of the most romantic ever captured.
Later in the evening, our lovers are separated by a July thunderstorm and spend hours looking for each other in desperation. It is only after they are separated that they realize they may have stumbled upon something truly special. Only then does the the gravity of their separation set in. The storm only accentuates the turmoil. Jim repeatedly pleads with an uncaring worker at the carnival. Mary is harassed by leering men at the carnival. As the evening wanes, they each return to their respective dwellings, despondent. Then, in the most Hollywood of endings, are two lovers are reunited.
Ultimately, Lonesome is lightweight fair suitable for passing time on a rainy afternoon. The film’s greatest achievement perhaps is its visual accomplishments. If Lonesome carries any resonance, that would be in the sense of humanity and individuality that arises amid a conformist mass-culture. The film is a curio of early cinema that newcomers to silent films would do well to explore. For more savvy viewers, it offers a glimpse of that fascinating in-between period in cinema when silent movies were on the way out and talkies were becoming the norm.
Jonathan Hiott is a freelance writer who lists films of all kinds as a passion. He also loves to mountain bike.
Criterion's fabulous artwork |
Silent films are a visual treat primarily and allow the viewer to focus fully on the moving picture, a decided advantage in my humble opinion. But in the case of Lonesome, included are several scenes of dialogue since the film was produced on the cusp of the talkie revolution. (These dialogue scenes are a bit clumsy and do seem rather tacked on and gimmicky.) Apparently the talking scenes were added at the behest of a studio executive wanting to cash in on the talkie craze.
The film is mostly in black and white but also there are scenes that utilize color, mostly in the carnival scenes, and to a surreal,head-spinning effect. In fact, I have never seen so much confetti thrown on screen. The director, Paul Fejos, does a masterful job of conveying the madness of the Coney Island carnival with lights, colors, and teeming hordes of people looking for an escape. The sudden use of color is startling for a film of this vintage, especially when the first half is in black and white. But it’s not the type of movie color we’re used to, it has a more hand-drawn and otherworldly appearance. Some would accuse the color of existing only to draw attention to itself but I think it only serves to enhance Fejos’ artistic vision.
There is a sublimely gorgeous moment in Lonesome when our two lovers embrace in front of a night sky and moon in one of those gossamer-tinged images that can only exist in the movies, especially from the silent era. This image is the stuff of which dreams are made and encapsulates our protagonists’ pathos, dreams for meeting the love of one’s life, for escaping the doldrums of the workplace, for hoping for a better future. The image must be one of the most romantic ever captured.
Later in the evening, our lovers are separated by a July thunderstorm and spend hours looking for each other in desperation. It is only after they are separated that they realize they may have stumbled upon something truly special. Only then does the the gravity of their separation set in. The storm only accentuates the turmoil. Jim repeatedly pleads with an uncaring worker at the carnival. Mary is harassed by leering men at the carnival. As the evening wanes, they each return to their respective dwellings, despondent. Then, in the most Hollywood of endings, are two lovers are reunited.
Ultimately, Lonesome is lightweight fair suitable for passing time on a rainy afternoon. The film’s greatest achievement perhaps is its visual accomplishments. If Lonesome carries any resonance, that would be in the sense of humanity and individuality that arises amid a conformist mass-culture. The film is a curio of early cinema that newcomers to silent films would do well to explore. For more savvy viewers, it offers a glimpse of that fascinating in-between period in cinema when silent movies were on the way out and talkies were becoming the norm.
Jonathan Hiott is a freelance writer who lists films of all kinds as a passion. He also loves to mountain bike.