Michel Strogoff Film Complet
Chloe Sarnoff
Being a fan of silent cinema, I am used to disappointment. Some of the best silent movies have never been released on DVD, Blu-ray, high-quality streaming or any other home media and viewing them is something of a challenge. It sometimes takes months or even years of patience before a copy of a movie becomes available from, ahem, legitimate sources.
Then, occasionally, there are movies that just sort of fall into your lap. Michael Strogoff was like that for me. I had seen the title mentioned before in passing but had never made any particular effort to track it down. I happened to have access to a copy of the film while I was reviewing Ivan Mosjoukine in Surrender and decided to give it a try for research purposes. (Michael Strogoff is the movie that got Mosjoukine invited to Hollywood.) The film runs nearly three hours so I thought I would just watch a little to get a taste.
You should know that I have a weakness for old school mega-epics, particularly the ones that manage to blend in heavy character development. Lawrence of Arabia is my favorite talkie, if that gives you any clue. By old school, I mean that the movie was actually filmed on location, not in front of a green screen, and that when they say they have a cast of thousands, they mean thousands of living humans and not CGI sprites. Basically, the kind of thing that has not been made in decades. Michael Strogoff pretty much had my name on it, painted in big neon letters.
The quality was there from the beginning. Michael Strogoff can boast of first-rate source material. Jules Verne may be remembered today for his groundbreaking science fiction but he also wrote his share of earth-bound adventure stories. Michel Strogoff, one of his most action-packed novels, was published in France in 1876 and has been filmed over a dozen times by various nations. Confirmation on early film is spotty at best but the 1926 version seems to have been the fourth screen iteration and the second feature-length adaptation. (No word on the survival status of the 1908 Essanay version or the 1910 Edison version. UCLA has one reel of the 1914 five-reel Lubin version on 9.5mm safety film.) It is also, to my knowledge, the only version that was made by a majority-Russian cast and crew.
The story concerns a fictional 1860 uprising of Tartars in Siberia during the reign of Czar Alexander II, aka Czar You-Wanna-Buy-Alaska? A rebellious Russian officer named Ivan Ogareff (Acho Chakatouny) has incited the assorted tribes to unite under the leadership of Feofar Khan and the result has been devastating.
Czar Alexander (Eugne Gaidaroff) realizes that the only hope for the empire is for someone to hand deliver a warning to Irkutsk. But who can do it? It has to be someone with the intelligence to keep the mission secret and avoid capture, the loyalty to take on such a dangerous mission in the first place and the stamina to endure Siberia and that 5,000 verst journey.
Michael and Nadia have two unwitting sets of companions on their trip. First, there is the somewhat comical duo of Harry Blount (Henri Debain) and Alcide Jolivet (Gabriel de Gravone), a pair of war correspondents from Britain and France, respectively. They act as audience surrogates and comedy relief.
Then there is the more sinister team of Sangarre (Marie-Louise Vois) and none other than Ivan Ogareff himself. Ogareff heard that the czar has sent a courier and he means to track him down. Sangarre is his wily Tartar agent and mistress. They are a dangerous pair.
Once the characters cross into Siberia, Michael Strogoff becomes very action-heavy. We have runaway horses, a barge battle, much charging from the Tartars and our hero has to slay a hungry bear with a knife. And that is only the first half.
Michael Strogoff is an epic but it keeps its feet on the ground. The fight scenes are the most obvious examples but I also appreciated other details that kept the film grounded. Both Michael and Nadia show convincing signs of wear and tear as the movie goes on. At one point, our hero shaves with broken glass. We are most definitely not in Hollywood, kids.
The scene that is most often mentioned for its technical prowess is the ballroom scene that opens the film. Czar Alexander hears the dreadful news from Siberia and imagines the Tartars lining up for a devastating charge against the outnumbered Russians. As these scenes play, they are intercut with the dancers at the ball, whose joyous charge toward the camera is an ironic counterpoint to their dying countrymen and Tartar aggressors. This kinetic scene perfectly encapsulates the conscience of the monarch. Kevin Brownlow described this as one of the finest sequences in Russian or French film of the silent era. I bow to his superior knowledge and can simply add that, from what I have seen, I have to agree.
The other famous scene in Michael Strogoff is the sequence in which our hero falls into the hands of the Tartars. This section, along with the opening ball, was deemed worthy of wondrous stencil color. (Stencil color was just that. Stencils were laboriously cut and each frame was tinted with various colors. The process looks very watercolor-like and became quite sophisticated near the end of the silent era.) The dancers and warriors of the Tartar camp look fabulous, yes, but the color also elevates the dramatic nature of the scene. (Mordaunt Hall also did not think much of stencil color. May I harm him?)
This is some of the best acting in the film but Michael Strogoff is full of scenes that invite wordy reviewers (ahem!) to wax poetic. The ensemble cast is just that good. However, I will control myself and move on.
One thing that I have always appreciated about Russian films is how they handle romance. While there are a few soppy movies, generally Russian romances are understated and practical. While Hollywood heroes would fall to their knees with grand, sweeping gestures and announce their adoration in poetic terms, Russian leading men tended to take a more realistic approach.
Nadia, for her part, is equally practical. After Michael has been blinded and abandoned by the Tartars, he is flailing around in half-panicked disorientation. Nadia is visibly upset after witnessing his torture but her first thought is how she can realistically help. She calms Michael, helps him to stand and says that she will be his eyes.
I find this way of handling the love story to be refreshing and extremely effective. In fact, I far prefer it to the silent Hollywood grandstanding, limb-kissing and sundry mushy gestures. (Never was a fan of what I call the Pepe Le Pew school of romance. Unless, you know, actually done by Pepe Le Pew.)
That being said, the top screenwriters know what to change and why. Both The Penalty and Stella Maris changed their source novels considerably but the changes were masterfully handled and resulted in much stronger films. (I detail these changes in my reviews of those films. You can read my Stella Maris review here and my review of The Penalty here.)
Nadia does still have to be rescued a few times but it is not really because she is a woman. After all, the reporters need saving too. She gets into trouble because she is not a native Siberian and does not expect to be randomly attacked by bears. Plus, as stated before, she does her fair share of rescuing. More importantly, she takes charge of her own fate and joins Michael on his mission because she wants to.
However, there may have been a title card to explain this in the original release. You see, Michael Strogoff is yet another silent movie that was very nearly lost. For years, the only known copy was a 9.5mm print of a 30-minute abbreviation. The Cinmathque Franaise was able to obtain two incomplete 35mm prints and put together a more or less complete version of the film. The restoration also included reproducing the glorious stencil color. However, small fragments of the film are still considered lost.
Michael Strogoff is one of the best silent films I have seen (shame on me for not having seen it sooner) and it deserves to take its place among the great epics. I give it my highest possible recommendation.
I was considering a full Silents vs. Talkies review for this tale but no other version really held my interest. So, I have decided to give you a rundown on some of the other versions I was able to view.
Curt Jurgens took the title role in 1956 and while he certainly had the physical presence for the part, he was too stolid and, frankly, German to be convincing as the dashing Siberian hero. Further, as was typical for films of the fifties, the costumes look fresh out of the wardrobe department (even the rags!) and the ladies sport some very modern bangs.
The 1970 version, simply entitled Strogoff in some releases, was an Italian-French-West German co-production. I am sure there are exceptions but nothing strikes cold terror into my heart like a 60s-70s West German co-production. Many apologies to the German side of my family.
Look, I know it was a little something for the ladies and I do appreciate the sentiment, really and truly, and I am not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth but I would hardly call that the proper time or place.
Tourjanksy himself directed a follow-up film in 1961, which starred Jurgens. I think this may be one of the only cases of a star of one version of a film and the director of another collaborating on a sequel. I was Strogoffed out by this time and ended up passing on the movie.
I also did not check out the 1974 miniseries or the more recent animated version. Michael Strogoff adaptations seemed to be getting worse and worse so I went back and watched the 1926 version again. It was a tough job but someone had to do it.
No surprise, the silent is far and away the best of the bunch. The behind-the-scenes team really understood their source material and they had the budget and the cast to make an absolutely top drawer epic. There is no need to even bother with the assorted remakes. This is the definitive version.
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