Barbed Wire (1927)

Barbed Wire is one of several films mentioned in passing in Jeremy Arnold's Christmas in the Movies book that I figured I should track down. I should note Arnold is clear that the movie doesn't qualify as a genuine Christmas movie under his definition, which is quite a bit more restrictive than those we use. Even with our more expansive approach, Barbed Wire is a marginal case. The holiday section certainly doesn't come close to encompassing half the runtime, nor is it particularly important to the plot (Arnold places a great deal of significance on this metric throughout). The holiday does resonate with the movie's theme, however, which is why I think it's at least ambiguously a Christmas movie. Regardless, between being nearly a hundred years old and featuring a thematically relevant extended holiday sequence, I feel this is at least worth discussing, whichever side of the "Christmas movie" line it actually falls on.

Released less a month before The Jazz Singer, Barbed Wire came out right at the end of the era of the silent picture. The film centers around a love story between a French farmgirl and a German POW during the first World War, so - as you can probably guess - the genre is pretty complex even before you start trying to parse whether the Christmas label should be slapped on, as well.

The movie is set over the entirety of the war, starting on the protagonist's family farm just before the news of the war reaches them. We're introduced to the movie's heroine, Mona (played by Pola Negri), as well as her elderly father and brother, who's quickly drafted into service. Mona initially hates the Germans, though her father urges moderation, citing his own time in the service as the reason for understanding and compassion.

Soon, the French military commandeers their property to establish a POW camp for enemy combatants. Adding insult to injury, Mona learns her and her father are expected to feed the prisoners. A large group arrives soon after (the movie has an impressive number of extras), but only two of the prisoners are actually significant: Oscar (Mona's eventual love interest, played by Clive Brook) and Hans (played by physical comedian Clyde Cook, which is most of what you need to know about his character).

At first Mona despises the prisoners, though the movie teases a physical attraction to Oscar pretty early. Before this can develop, Mona receives a letter saying her brother was killed, though we've already been shown a sequence implying the character's death might be exaggerated.

That sequence, incidentally, is the only time we see any warfare, and it's pretty impressive - I'm not 100% sure they didn't incorporate a few bits of stock footage from the actual war to enhance the illusion, but I haven't found anything online confirming or denying that. Regardless, it's all strung together beautifully. The important detail is that a German soldier finds her brother dangling from barbed wire, cuts him down, and tries to protect him. We won't find out how that went until the end of the movie, though... I mean... you already know, right?

Regardless, everyone back home thinks he's dead. Mona is obviously devastated, and her father handles the news even worse: he has a stroke and spends most of the rest of the movie in bed, which forces Mona to rely even more on workers recruited from the POW camp.

Workers such as Oscar, who asks her to take a wreath sent by the mother of a German soldier who dies in the camp to his grave, since the prisoners are forbidden from leaving. At first, Mona has no intention of helping anyone from the side that killed her brother, but eventually her empathy wins out.

Not long after, she's visited and assaulted by a guard at the camp. Oscar happens to be nearby and intervenes, saving Mona from being raped. The two fight and wind up outside, where they're found by other guards. Oscar is accused of trying to escape by the guard. Since telling the truth would require exposing Mona to danger, he opts to remain quiet. He's in danger of being executed when Mona intervenes, setting the record straight. The judges believe her and arrest her attacker instead, but in the eyes of her neighbors, she's a traitor who betrayed a French soldier to protect a German. It doesn't help her case when the other prisoners publicly salute her.

While Oscar is acquitted and even commended by the court, they also forbid him from going into the farm for three months in the hopes that will give things time to calm down. By then it's....

Christmas! We see the soldiers celebrating as Hans plays a comedic Santa (or maybe Papa Noel or the Weihnachtsmann), then they all sing Silent Night. The movie makes a point of showing the lyrics in German translate to French in the interstitials, a gimmick employed a handful of times throughout the movie (though it's most effective here). In case that's still too subtle, Mona goes to her father and spells out the message, saying, "Listen farther, they are singing our hymn with their German Words.... Both of us singing to the same God.... What a brutal sacrilege - this war!" Much to her dismay, he's disgusted. While her opinion of the prisoners has softened, the loss of a son stripped away any sympathy from her father.

Meanwhile, Oscar's joy and having his suspension lifted is immediately undercut by a letter he receives informing him that his sister has been killed in a bombing. Brokenhearted, he makes his way to the farm, where he reveals what's happened to Mona, who comforts him as he weeps. Her father, who's been bedridden up to this point, comes downstairs, finds his daughter in a German prisoner's arms, and immediately tries shaming her, reminding her what happened to her brother. Before she can respond, the old man drops dead on the floor.

 So... not your typical Christmas sequence.

It's not entirely clear whether the next scene is also set during the Christmas season. The next thing we see is the father's will being read and confirming everything was left to Mona. Even without knowing the particulars of his death, this doesn't sit well with her neighbors, who look on her with scorn. When they're alone, Oscar tells her they hate her because of him, so he won't be returning to the farm. But he also tells her he'll always love her, and he points out the war can't last forever.

He's right of course. In fact, thanks to some editing, the war's over by the next scene. Everyone's obviously happy, but no one's happier than Oscar, who heads over to the farm under the assumption he can finally marry Mona, a belief she shares until her neighbors make it clear things aren't so simple. While the war might technically be over, that doesn't mean everyone's eager for peace. Mona's neighbors make it plainly clear she can either throw Oscar out or be thrown out with him.

If that wasn't bad enough, Oscar writes home to confirm his mother will welcome Mona if they move back there, and her response makes it clear neither she nor his countrymen will be any more accommodating than Mona's neighbors.

Both lovers separately insist the other would be better off without them, but neither is willing to live without the other. Just as they're about to be run out of town with nowhere to go, Mona's brother shows up, blind but very much alive. Everyone expects him to chastise her for falling in love with the enemy after he's gone through so much, but he instead shames his neighbors for allowing hate to overtake them. He embraces his sister and new brother, and they look forward to a future guided by love, rather than hate.

So not particularly subtle. Not that that's a problem: setting aside the cross genre hodgepodge of romance and war, this is first and foremost a melodrama, and as such was expected to wear its heart and moral on its sleeve.

The movie is quite good, with the obvious caveat that a feature-length silent melodrama is a tough sell to anyone - this just isn't the kind of thing that appeals to most people, no matter how well it's made. But Negri and Brook deliver some fantastic performances, conveying a depth of emotion through expression alone. Likewise, Cook's physicality really is impressive to see.

The cinematography and camera work are also extremely impressive. I already mentioned the war scene was particularly well done, but it's worth reiterating: the explosions, falling soldiers, and overall devastation are depicted with a greater sense of realism than I expected from the era. Likewise, the sets in the prison camp do a great job selling the scale.

The most striking element, however, comes at the end of the film. During the brother's speech, one of his metaphors is visualized as a sort of fantasy embellishment showing a seemingly endless procession of spirits marching through the sky. Those close are clearly accomplished through the usual double exposure, but the line seems to drift back into the horizon, rising and falling over clouds. You can see what appears to be moving figures within their midst. My best guess is the background elements were animated, but I'm not entirely certain. However the shot was pulled off, it's a fantastic visual.

Beyond all that, the movie is simply well shot and directed. There are, of course, no shortage of artifacts from the silent era, but at the same time there's a sophistication to how this movie's framed that feels modern. Rowland V. Lee is the credited director, though IMDB lists Mauritz Stiller as an uncredited co-director. Regardless of who did what, the end result is engaging, in spite of the lack of sound and the admittedly cheesy premise. It's all over-the-top, but they sell it.

I should mention that (again, according to Wikipedia) the ending of the movie was reworked from the book it's based on, which apparently didn't give the lovers a happy ending. No huge surprise there - for better or worse, the last few minutes feel like a tonal departure from everything beforehand. This goes from a bleak, tragic exploration of humanity's dark impulses to an uplifting prayer for the future. It's a message of understanding and hope for peace that... uh... [spoiler alert for the following decades] turned out a tad over-optimistic.

I've already come across at least one critic who disliked the ending and would have preferred a darker one. I'm not sure I agree - following through on the dismal setup would have resulted in a fairly generic melodrama. I don't necessary feel like the copout in the movie was better, but I don't think it was any worse, either.

Apparently audiences of the time were more bothered by what they interpreted as a pro-German subtext. I don't entirely agree with that reading (the fact Oscar's mother was effectively disowning him established the movie wasn't endorsing that nation), but I can't deny the narrative resulted in most of the sympathetic characters being of that nationality. And, to the movie's detractors' credit, being suspicious of Germans in 1927 is a stance that aged pretty damn well. 

So with all that out of the way, let's talk Christmas. The movie's central theme probably goes without saying, but for the sake of clarity this is a film about forgiveness, compassion, and embracing the humanity within those we're taught to see as enemies. The Christmas sequence is used primarily to highlight that and home in on the religious overtones that play a part in the resolution.

The movie also serves as an early example of a Christmas war movie (perhaps the earliest, in fact). Stalag 17 and Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence would both explore similar ideas around prisoners of war and holiday elements, though interestingly both would tell their stories more from the perspective of the prisoners than captors. Likewise, movies like Joyeux Noël and Midnight Clear would approach thematic issues similar to those in Barbed Wire.

Despite my praise for this movie's technical accomplishments and nuanced performances, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone not already familiar with the silent era. To be frank, the best silent comedies hold up to modern scrutiny in ways the melodramas don't. I think this is watchable and well done, but - for audiences used to more restrained dramas aided by synchronized sound - it's still going to be a bridge too far.