THE PENALTY (LONG)
Lloyd Fonvielle
back to Washington Irving, our first literary celebrity It achieved its
apotheosis, in terms of both sensationalism and art, in the work of
Edgar Allen Poe -- and it migrated naturally into the exaggerated
conventions of Victorian theater, and from there into movies.
After WWI, and perhaps in part owing to the unprecedented horrors
of that conflict, grotesque melodrama became a distinct genre in cinema,
much as Film Noir became a distinct genre after the collective nightmare
of WWII. Its power and prestige is best illustrated by the
extraordinary popularity of Lon Chaney. One of the most celebrated
stars of the silent era, he specialized almost exclusively in the genre
of the grotesque.
In tracing the rise of the modern horror film from its roots in
silent cinema, we can easily misconstrue the grotesque genre as it was
experienced by early audiences. “The Phantom Of the Opera” and “The
Hunchback of Notre Dame”, proto-horror films starring Chaney, actually
have more in common with a grotesque contemporary melodrama like “The
Penalty”, also starring Chaney as a legless underworld crime boss -- and
the three have more in common with each other than any of them has with
“Dracula”, for example, with its supernatural elements, or even with
“Frankenstein”, with its elements of mad-science fiction.
The Phantom, the Hunchback, and the legless Blizzard from “The
Penalty” are all disfigured men whose afflictions have rendered them
terrifying, while not quite extinguishing the romantic souls within.
It’s hard not to see in this an echo of the many thousands of mutilated
survivors of WWI, and a metaphor for the psyche of a world scarred by
previously unimaginable battlefield carnage.
The word grotesque does not quite describe the dramatic tone of
“The Penalty” or the world it creates. Demented is closer to the mark.
It does not present us with a vision of normality penetrated by
grotesque elements -- it is set in a universe which has become unhinged
at the core, and this nightmare universe is delineated matter-of-factly,
as though its logic were the logic of the world as it is.
This creates a wonderful, dreamy kind of surrealism, with great
poetic force, and a delightful atmosphere of frisson -- but it is
finally very disturbing. One is tempted for this very reason to dismiss
it as lurid pulp, but one cannot -- mostly because of the authority of
Chaney . . . the physical authority of his shockingly convincing
impersonation of a legless man, and the artistic authority of his
performance as the paradoxical Blizzard.
We are given to drawing a distinction between silent film
performers who “over-acted” and those who played in a more restrained
and “modern” style. Chaney is usually considered more modern in this
sense. But in truth, Chaney overacts in every frame of “The Penalty”,
by modern standards. It’s just that the broad strokes of his
expressions and gestures are so grounded in psychological truth, so
complex in their suggestiveness, so graceful and sublime in their
execution, that we are swept beyond our modern expectations of what
acting should be. We are experiencing screen performance as audiences
of the time experienced it.
The intimacy of the camera certainly did require a technical
toning down of physical expression and gesture for actors coming from
the stage -- much as a smaller theatrical venue would have for actors
accustomed to playing huge auditoriums -- and there were certainly
lunkheaded actors who couldn’t pull this off. But most of the time,
when we talk about the difference between over-acting and more
naturalistic acting in silent films, we are simply noting the difference
between bad acting and good acting.
One of Cocteau’s great maxims was “You have to know when it’s all
right to go too far.” Great silent film actors knew this -- and great
modern actors know it, too. James Cagney and Jack Palance and Jack
Nicolson, for that matter, habitually overact by so-called modern
standards, yet their performances still seem fresh and convincing,
perfectly au courant. Daniel Day Lewis’s performance in “The Gangs Of
New York”, one of the very greatest performances ever committed to film,
is as wild and over-the-top as any silent film performance ever was, and
yet it is a work of complicated and compelling genius.
The camera did allow a new breed of actors to step to the fore --
the minimalists, of whom Robert de Niro is probably the most
astonishing. But Lon Chaney was no minimalist. He was an actor in the
grand style -- and, quite simply, a supreme master of that style,
consistently pitch-perfect, and consistently breathtaking.
The delirious tale of “The Penalty” begins with a boy injured in a
traffic accident, treated by an incompetent doctor who unnecessarily
amputates both his legs. An older doctor covers for the younger
physician's mistake, and the chastened bumbler goes on to an exemplary
career in medicine. But the boy never forgets.
He grows up to be the crippled criminal mastermind Blizzard,
played by Chaney, who amasses power, covets more, and plans his revenge
-- on the doctor and on the world.
On the first front, he insinuates himself into the life of the
doctor’s daughter -- a sculptor torn between her ambitions as an artist
and society’s expectations of exemplary womanhood (domestic and
submissive) -- by posing for her portrait of Satan. On the second front
he is plotting a takeover of the city of San Francisco by means of a
lunatic scheme involving ten thousand “foreign malcontents”, armed to
the teeth, and uniformed in silly matching straw hats, cunningly woven
in advance by harlots conscripted from the ranks of Blizzard’s working
girls.
It’s all quite mad, but presented as an authentic threat to the
civil order.
A subplot involves a plucky undercover female police operative who
infiltrates the crucial straw hat operation and quickly learns more than
it’s safe for her to know. Principally she discovers the underground
lair where Blizzard stores the munitions for his planned insurrection --
an subterranean world, reached through a trick fireplace, that’s right
out of the wildest Gothic fiction, and vaguely reminiscent of Erik’s
underground kingdom beneath the Opera.
Blizzard is a beast, with the soul of a poet. He is a fine critic
of art, and fires the sculptor with the courage she needs to break free
of her bourgeois shackles and strike out on her own for glory. Villain
indeed!
Blizzard also wins the heart of the undercover operative by his
soulful piano paying -- and she wins his by her skillful operation of
the pedals while he plays. She comes to her senses only when she
discovers that his grand plan involves amputating the legs of a certain
. . . but you get the idea.
Female independence is presented as possibly sexy and possibly
admirable but, in the end, a very bad idea, for which a woman will
inevitably pay a dreadful price.
The preposterous villainy resembles the harebrained villainy of
Feuillade’s serials -- at once innocent and unsettling, mundane and
surreal. Possibly both reflect a post-war malaise informed by a sense
that the ordinary world has gone subtly but irrevocably insane.
Chaney’s performance, as usual, gives it all an unlikely interior
coherence and logic. The filmmaking is aptly described by Michael
Blake, Chaney’s biographer, as craftsmanlike -- the shots are handsomely
framed and lit, and the narrative moves along at a lively clip. Chaney
alone elevates the film to greatness.
Every time he moves himself around with his crutches or with his
hands alone, we watch a ballet on stumps unfold -- the aesthetic
determination and commitment of the actor become the villainous
determination and commitment of the character he’s playing. We admire
him and recoil from him at the same time.
This is the thrill of the grotesque drama. We are allowed to
engage and embrace our deepest fears and discontents subconsciously,
while retaining our outward allegiance to conventional virtues. The
film dangles the possibility of Blizzard’s redemption before us -- then
snatches it away at the last moment . . . as it snatches away the
possibility of new horizons for the women.
The ultimate effect, however, is one of ambiguity, a suspension of
faith in the old certainties -- an intriguing discombobulation of the
moral universe.
Kino’s edition of the film on DVD features a splendid print and some
wonderful extras. They include the surviving footage from “The Miracle
Man” -- which is painful to watch, because this lost film looks as
though it might have been marvelous. Included also is one of the few
surviving one-reelers from Chaney’s early years at Universal -- “By the
Sun’s Rays”. It’s not much of a film, but it’s fascinating to see
Chaney at work at the beginning of his movie career. His physical grace
commands attention, even when his choices as an actor are obvious or
even crude. Chaney was born for the screen, as Chaplin and Pickford
were -- with an instinctive insight into the movies’s mysterious
expressive power.
There is, perhaps most delightfully of all, a brief short in which
Michael Blake shows us some of the Chaney artifacts held by the Los
Angeles Museum of Natural History. We see the suit and the stumps
Chaney wore in the movie, his make-up case -- the mirror he looked into
while working his magic. Blake handles them all with the delicate hands
of a make-up artist, which he is -- and the awed respect of someone who
genuinely admires the craft of a master.
WaverBoy
PENALTY. Thank you for a most pleasurable read! However, I feel I must
make an addendum to the below bit of info:
> Kino’s edition of the film on DVD features a splendid print and some
> wonderful extras.
Kino's edition of the film also features one of the most horribly
inappropriate musical accompaniments I've ever heard. Distracting and
grating in the extreme. A pity that the viewing of this beautiful print
must be compromised so badly by such an ill-chosen score.
Lloyd Fonvielle
I thought the Kino soundtrack effectively complemented the odd dramatic
tone of the film, though it was certainly anachronistic -- especially
percussively. There are so few modern musicians who can strike the
right balance here that it's always going to be an issue to be debated.
The scores where they get it just right are true miracles.
I prefer a score that's of the period, in spirit or in fact, but I can
forgive an effective score (that is, one that's effective for me) even
if it isn't. But so much of this is a matter of personal taste.
ChaneyFan
Pardon me?
===============================
Jon Mirsalis
e-mail: Chan...@aol.com
Lon Chaney Home Page: http://members.aol.com/ChaneyFan
Jon's Film Sites: http://members.aol.com/ChaneyFan/jonfilm.htm
Fair Pickings
chan...@aol.com wrote on 9/21/03 6:32 PM:
I don't think of miracles as things that occur on a regular basis, albeit
only when the scores are provided by the likes of Mr. Sauer, Mr. James, Dr.
Carli, Mr. Israel, and Mr. Mirsalis.
Art Pierce
Lloyd Fonvielle
>>>>The scores where they get it just right are true miracles.
>
>
> Pardon me?
Doing new scores for silent films strikes me as one of the toughest
musical challenges there is. Being sensitive to the period while
responding sensitively to the films in the here and now, creating
something that's fresh and doesn't sound like a parody -- dealing with
the whole aesthetic question of when or whether it's acceptable to
violate period in order to serve the film dramatically. I don't see how
anybody does it.
The fact that some people do always seems miraculous to me.
Bobbyharron
>
>What's that about? Well, I think I have it figured out. Some people
>just can't imagine ANYTHING that is not what they are "used to." If
>it's different (good or bad) it must be bad cause THEY don't
>understand it. In my case it's the lame Van Buren scores that are so
>annoying on the early Chaplin Mutuals. In your case, it's your choices
>as a composer for a new release of a Chaney movie.
>
>Fortunately, the folks criticizing are not in the decision making
>process, but in the "after market criticism" process. Of course,
>criticism is MUCH easier than doing something creative to actually
>contribute some positive energy to forward the very thing they are
>criticizing.
It is worth pointing out that the score for The Penalty was composed by Michael
Polher. I thought it was a reasonable score, often effective, but rather
overdoing the thumping rhythm.
I think that even those who do not compose or play music should be allowed to
be critical, so long as the criticism is neither personal nor nasty. I have had
no hand in making a silent film (I'm far to young), but I certainly think I can
point out what I consider to be a silent film's flaws and faults. If I could
not criticise, then neither could I praise, which would be a pity.
Pete George
Eric Stott
Mike Mortilla wrote:
>
> Fortunately, the folks criticizing are not in the decision making
> process, but in the "after market criticism" process. Of course,
> criticism is MUCH easier than doing something creative to actually
> contribute some positive energy to forward the very thing they are
> criticizing. As the saying goes: Idealism rises in direct proportion
> to your distance from the problem. These folks are so far removed from
> the actual production process that their idealism pretends to be based
> in some "higher standard."
Correct me if I'm mistaken, but are you saying that I should have submitted a score, or gotten my
opinions in BEFORE the disc was scored and issued?
If so, Not only am I not a musician but opportunities for preview are not easily available. It would be
nice if Kino (for example) might put up samples beforehand and ask the public to "Pick your favorite
score". Understandably this doesn't happen. Members of this group are going to criticize, and sometimes
toes might be stepped on. There's no accounting for taste. I've heard pro and con opinions on this forum
for Carl Davis, Robert Israel, Alloy Orchestra, Gaylord Carter, William Perry, Etc. Everyone gets it.
Stott
Max Nineteennineteen
> Fortunately, the folks criticizing are not in the decision making
> process, but in the "after market criticism" process. Of course,
> criticism is MUCH easier than doing something creative
Yeah, that's what Joe Eszterhaus said after Showgirls came out, too.
It's the oldest and lamest response in the book. The mere fact that
an artist (or someone who thinks they are one) labored does not compel
everyone else to have a positive opinion.
I think a lot of the carping about scores is excessively picky, but
you know, if it wasn't for the insane enthusiasm of a small group of
people for silent films these DVD releases wouldn't exist at all, they
sure ain't being bought by Mr. and Mr. Joe DVD-Owner at Costco. So be
glad the people doing all the unfair bitching exist at all.
gardibolt
>
<snip>
Dodging the music controversy completely, let me say that this is a
terrific little essay, and the comments regarding Blizzard and the
Phantom as emblematic of the results of WWI very perceptive. More,
please.
Mark
Lloyd Fonvielle
Some people liked the score for "The Penalty" -- me included -- some
apparently didn't. That's just a matter of taste.
The question of how true to period musical styles a modern silent film
score should be is one that's going to be debated forever -- but it is a
legitimate issue to discuss.
Not easy to resolve, either. Is it better in the end to be true to the
dramatic essence of a film as we experience it today, or to be true to
the musical tastes and expectations of the audiences who first saw the
film? What if you're a composer whose strength happens to lie more in
the former area than in the latter? What is your responsibility then,
as an artist, insofar as serving the film is concerned?
By 1924, there was some pretty wild, avante garde music in existence --
much of written by Charles Ives. Does that automatically make Ives-like
music appropriate to the score for a film from 1924, even though such
music would never have been heard accompanying a silent film?
We should realize, though, in discussing all these questions, that a
modern silent film score is different from DVD extras, or scholarly
commentary, or digital restoration. It involves an artist creating an
aesthetic response to the work of other artists -- and given the
complications of the task, both technical and philosophical, we should
probably approach his or her endeavor with a good deal more sympathy and
humility than is sometimes accorded it.
WaverBoy
news:b2b36885.03092...@posting.google.com...
> Welcome to the "I Hate You And Your Music Club" Jon.
>
> What's that about? Well, I think I have it figured out. Some people
> just can't imagine ANYTHING that is not what they are "used to." If
> it's different (good or bad) it must be bad cause THEY don't
> understand it.
Not in the case of THE PENALTY. It's not because I'm not used to it. It's
not necessarily the style that I object to. It's because this particular
use of this style I find extremely repetitive, annoying, and distracting,
and not at all a suitable accompaniment to the film. And I have a right to
feel this way and to say so.
In the case of your scores for the Mutuals, they just don't do it for me.
And, not because I'm not used to them. I've heard different scores for the
same silent film before, and liked more than one. For example, I'm used to
the William Perry piano score for THE GOLD RUSH, but, upon hearing Neil
Brand's score for the Brownlow/Gill restoration, I liked that one very much
too.
In my case it's the lame Van Buren scores that are so
> annoying on the early Chaplin Mutuals. In your case, it's your choices
> as a composer for a new release of a Chaney movie.
>
> Fortunately, the folks criticizing are not in the decision making
> process, but in the "after market criticism" process. Of course,
> criticism is MUCH easier than doing something creative to actually
> contribute some positive energy to forward the very thing they are
> criticizing. As the saying goes: Idealism rises in direct proportion
> to your distance from the problem. These folks are so far removed from
> the actual production process that their idealism pretends to be based
> in some "higher standard."
I'm sure many painters of mundane Cape Cod landscapes sold by street vendors
feel the same way. Does that make their work notable? (Note: I'm not
comparing you personally to painters of mundane Cape Cod landscapes.)
> Don't take it to heart, my friend. Keep doing what you do and remember
> what they said about Beethoven, Stravinsky, Antheil and Zappa. :)
> Besides, VERY FEW of these folks will use their real names in posts.
> Never trust a man (or woman) who will not put their name behind their
> words. In the end, they are trying to preserve the anonymity which
> they so richly deserve!
Now, those last three sentences sounded just a tad bitter...
> No responses to posts by nameless, spineless posters :)
My name is Jeff Nelson, and, let me go on record as stating that I like
neither the Michael Mortilla scores for the Mutuals, nor the Michael Polher
score for THE PENALTY. And, for the record, I'm a pianist. I'm sure not
everyone liked my interpretations of the music I played at my recitals.
They're entitled to their opinions. As am I. As are you. You think the
Winston Sharples/Gene Rodemich scores for the Mutuals are lame and annoying.
I think they are great (some of the sound effects I could do without,
however). To each his or her own. I'd like to think that if Sharples and
Rodemich were still alive, they'd say you were entitled to your opinion and
wouldn't feel personally insulted because you thought their music was lame
and annoying. If you're an artist, and are releasing your work to the
public, shouldn't you be ready for criticism, instead of taking everything
personally and getting all insulted? (Yes, I know you posted that you're
not opposed to criticism, only anonymous posters of such, but other posts
you've made suggest otherwise to me.) I'm not trying to personally insult
anyone. You might do well to follow your own advice: don't take it to
heart, and keep doing what you do. Besides, judging from the quotes on your
site, there are plenty of people who like your work, including such
silent-film-circle-notables as Kevin Brownlow and David Shepard, so you can
bask in the glow of those reviews.
ChaneyFan
only when the scores are provided by the likes of Mr. Sauer, Mr. James, Dr.
Carli, Mr. Israel, and Mr. Mirsalis.
That's DR. Mirsalis if you please! :-)
Rodney Sauer
> >>>I don't think of miracles as things that occur on a regular basis, albeit
> only when the scores are provided by the likes of Mr. Sauer, Mr. James, Dr.
> Carli, Mr. Israel, and Mr. Mirsalis.
>
> That's DR. Mirsalis if you please! :-)
I'm not a real doctor, but I DO have a Master's Degree in Science.
Mr. Rodney Sauer, M.S.
Mont Alto Orchestra
(And I'm pleased to be in Art's list, but worried that Eric Stott
hasn't heard "pro and con" about us... the one thing worse than being
talked about is not being talked about!)
Borzz
http://home.carolina.rr.com/totalitypro/blizzard.html
<end: shameless plug>
--
....Borzz
Fair Pickings
chan...@aol.com wrote on 9/23/03 3:00 AM:
Sorry, Doc!
AP
Eric Stott
Rodney Sauer wrote:
If I've offended, I'm genuinely sorry. Its just that (unfortunately) I've heard less of your scores so
you slipped my (notoriously forgetful) mind.
Stott
Steve Haynes
don't mind doing it again. While, as someone recently posted, it may be a
matter of taste, it seems reasonable to me to attempt to apply SOME standard
when judging the quality of any artistic creation, and to place it in
perspective if possible so anyone reading the opinion can understand where
the originator is coming from.
A ticked off musician wrote: 'Welcome to the "I Hate You And Your Music
Club" Jon.' Which of course was not the point of the writer who set this
tantrum off at all. In most cases, listeners to ANY musical creation will
know almost nothing about the person making the music (except for BIG stars
and then whatever knowledge a listener may have would be suspect) so it's
highly unlikely that they "hate" the composer/performer. I don't know
anything about the person making the music on THE PENALTY (although I
understand he's French - the influence of which culture I don't really hear
in his score.)
I don't hate him.
But I do wish he hadn't been hired to provide the score for THE PENALTY. I
bought the DVD and have been unable to watch more than a few minutes of the
film before the score chases me away. If an appropriate score for the film
should have the same effect on a listener as repeatedly screeching chalk on
a blackboard, then I guess it is an appropriate score. There are other
performers of silent film scores that I find sometimes or usually
inappropriate or annoying, but this is the ONLY score I have ever heard that
has affected me this way - it is an intensely unpleasant physical reaction
that I find almost painful..
I don't think this makes me a bad person.
I don't think this makes me wrong.
I feel free to hold the opinion that someone who likes this score isn't very
discerning about how music can support (or indeed work against) images.
The previously cited tantrum goes on: "Some people just can't imagine
ANYTHING that is not what they are 'used to.' If it's different (good or
bad) it must be bad cause THEY don't understand it." I suppose that may have
some validity if you believe that the primary impact of a musical score is
cerebral, but I think that most scores are written to enhance what you FEEL
when viewing a film and the "understanding" the score is not an issue.
Finally there is: "remember what they said about Beethoven, Stravinsky,
Antheil and Zappa. :)" Unfortunately, we won't be around long enough to see
if THE PENALTY score is remembered along side The Emperor Concerto, The Rite
of Spring, Ballet Mecanique or "We're Only In It for the Money," but my
guess is that before too many years have passed. someone producing a new
release of the Chaney film in whatever media is current will review the
score for possible use and dive for their little book of silent film music
makers' phone numbers!
Steve
PrinceHalsChase
Just taking a moment to compliment you on a wonderfully written essay. Nice
job.
===========================================================
"Someday I know we'll live those dreams we left so far behind'
You'll never know unless you try, to see what's yours and mine"
David Manning
> words. In the end, they are trying to preserve the anonymity which
> they so richly deserve!
>
>
> No responses to posts by nameless, spineless posters :)
Ouch. Poor Richard, Voltaire, Diedrich Knickerbocker, Corno di
Bassetto, Twain and Orwell could not be reached for (untrustworthy)
comment.
>
> chan...@aol.com (ChaneyFan) wrote in message news:<20030921183244...@mb-m06.aol.com>...
> > >>>The scores where they get it just right are true miracles.
> >
> > Pardon me?
> > ===============================
> > Jon Mirsalis
> > e-mail: Chan...@aol.com
Might've been more accurate to say: "The scores where they get it just
right are truly Mirsalis'."
David Manning
who, in the end, is trying to preserve the
anonymity which he (or she) so richly deserves.