Mainlining Christmas

I'll grant it'd be a stretch to call this a Christmas movie. Only the last fifteen minutes or so are set at Christmas (and even then there's a little ambiguity surrounding the timeline), but that sequence is both thematically rich and interesting as a case study in how the holidays were viewed in the 1920s. More than that, if you think I'm above grasping at any opportunity to discuss a movie made by F. W. Murnau, the director of Nosferatu, through the prism of holiday media, you're seriously mistaken. In some ways, Faust is an even more impressive accomplishment than Nosferatu. The design and composition of some of these shots is incredible. Make up effects, set decoration, lighting, and camera angles are used to create some gorgeous sequences that - in the expressionist tradition - warp reality into something new. There were moments when actors almost looked more like stop-motion marionettes or animated figures than real people. Likewise, the balance between shadow...

I learned about this while looking at the fifth volume of The Valancourt Book of Victorian Ghost Stories, which includes the lyrics to a popular British song written by Thomas Haynes Bayly dating back to 1829 about a young woman who seemingly vanishes during a game of hide-and-seek and whose skeleton is found in a chest years later. The underlying story is even older - Wikipedia credits Samuel Rogers with the earliest written version, a poem titled, "Ginevra", published seven years earlier, with the caveat the narrative was most likely folklore before either Bayly or Rogers wrote it down. Apparently, there are numerous old manors throughout England claiming to have been the site of the supposed tragedy inspiring the story. One difference that's hard to miss between Bayly's "The Mistletoe Bough" and Roger's "Ginevra" is that the earlier poem wasn't set at Christmas. Bayly's song, as the name implies, absolutely is - at least until the ti...

Before I even attempt to describe this 1929 silent German film, it's worth noting this movie is - in my opinion at least - bonkers in ways no movie with synchronized sound I've encountered approaches. The plot seems to be largely pulled from its source material, a pair of plays by Frank Wedekind detailing the life and death of Lulu, a fictional woman whose sexual charisma and liberality seem to bring about destruction. What makes this more than garden-variety misogyny is the fact that while Lulu certainly isn't blameless, virtually every turning point leading to a character's death, destitution, or corruption is instigated by a male character. The film examines the way society blames women for roles it forces upon them. It's not really Lulu who's responsible for the majority of what occurs, but rather those around her. Or at least that's my interpretation. I find silent pictures harder to analyze than the talkies we're all more familiar with due to the i...

I'm honestly not sure whether I'd count Blind Justice as a holiday movie (with the holiday in question being New Year's Eve, rather than Christmas). A significant portion of the movie - more than a quarter of the total runtime - is set on New Year's, and there are thematic elements tied to the holiday. But at the same time, those elements aren't as immediately obvious to modern viewers, and this certainly doesn't feel like any kind of Christmas movie most people are familiar with. I'm explaining this upfront in case anyone specifically looking for Christmas (or New Year's) movies stumbles across this review: Blind Justice probably isn't going to scratch that itch. But at the same time, this is a Danish silent film from 1916 written, directed, and starring Benjamin Christensen, who'd go on to make Häxan. You bet your ass I want to explore how he integrated the holidays into a melodrama with (vaguely) proto-slasher tones. Very vaguely, I should add...

I've seen at least three genre films titled "Silent Night", and none were what I'd call a slam dunk. This comes closest, between John Woo's stylish direction, a clever gimmick, and an impressive performance from Joel Kinnaman - it's by no means a bad revenge flick, but the elements making this distinct don't overcome the ones making it feel generic. Specifically, the movie's sparce use of dialogue doesn't have the intended effect, so you're left feeling like the film is incomplete. That's the gimmick, by the way: this has essentially no dialogue other than radio transmissions and video clips watched and heard by characters in the movie. I actually think this would have worked better if they'd found ways to cut those as well - the handful of spoken words we hear don't add much and water down the effect. It's not that I found myself missing the dialogue itself - if there's one thing this movie succeeds in, it's demonstrati...

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...

This 9-minute film from 1928 represents something of a transition between silent film and talkies. Technically it's neither, as it includes a synchronized musical soundtrack but no spoken dialogue. In addition, it's shot in two-color Technicolor, similar to Mystery of the Wax Museum (though that movie features a much more technically advanced execution of the process). Between those features and an extremely intricate fantasy effect at the heart of the short, The Toy Shop must have amazed audiences ninety-five years ago. I still found myself surprised and intrigued today. There's not a lot to the plot. The movie opens with a poor beggar girl (presumably an orphan) begging outside a toy shop on what I'm assuming is Christmas Eve (all we get from the title cards is that this is happening in France). Visually, we only get a couple hints at the season: there's a wreath on a door in the background, and later we'll see some garlands inside the shopkeeper's home. ...

Big Business is a 19-minute long Laurel and Hardy short film in which they play Christmas tree salesmen who get in a destructive fight with an angry potential customer.  The holiday elements are fairly light here - aside from a joke or two at the beginning and end, the fact they're selling Christmas trees as opposed to literally anything else is irrelevant to the story or comedy. But it's still technically set at Christmas, so let's take a look. The plot here is simplistic. Laurel and Hardy visit a couple houses without luck before reaching the home where things go off the rails. It starts with the tree (then Hardy's coat) getting repeatedly stuck in the door, requiring them to ring the doorbell, which further annoys the home's owner. The silent picture format is useful for smoothing over the obvious plot contrivance: it's easier to avoid confronting why they're unable to explain the misunderstanding when no one's actually able to speak outside the occas...

This thirteen-minute film doesn't offer much of interest, but it's unusual in one respect: it was posted by the National Archive, which also took the time to provide some information on the movie's history and production . Context tends to be elusive when it comes to silent films, so it's nice to actually get a little insight into where this came from. This was produced by the Ford Motor Company, of all things. Apparently, they had a fairly substantial film division at the time. To clarify, while it's produced by Ford, it doesn't include any kind of tie-in, commercial, or product placement. There are no motorized vehicles in this at all. The film itself is kind of simple. Honestly, it's closer to what I'd expect from the first decade of that century, not the third: there's no real story, no visual effects or tricks, and the selling point here feels largely centered on the notion that seeing moving images will be exciting in and of itself. The movie f...

I think the official title for this is simply, "Good Cheer," as opposed to "Hal Roach Presents His Rascals in Good Cheer," but the longer version gives at least a hint as to what this actually is. My generation thinks of this property as "The Little Rascals," though that branding came quite a bit later. "Hals's Rascals" is already an alternate name for what started as "Our Gang," a series of short films about a group of poor kids who went through comical adventures. Regardless of what it's called, this is indeed a 1926 Little Rascals Christmas film. First, let's talk a little about what that means. The Our Gang shorts started in 1922 and were produced in various incarnations for decades. The premise centered on the idea that kids acting relatively naturally would make for good comedy, particularly when compared against the unrealistic behavior and dialogue they were typically directed to present at the time. Good Cheer is re...

I've been digging into old silent Christmas movies to get a better idea for how and when holiday tropes formed. This one stands out. To clarify, I'm not saying you should track this down. Most of you would find it tedious and pointless. But for me, it's the missing link for a number of ideas and concepts common in modern Christmas films. This represents the earliest example in film I've come across to date for a number of elements, and that alone is enough to make me excited. Let's back up and discuss what this is, because - setting aside all that - the film itself is a bit bonkers. It's the creation of Frank E. Kleinschmidt, an explorer and documentarian, who seems to have realized he could make more money off footage of the Arctic if he brought along a Santa suit and spliced that with some scenes filmed in a studio with a different actor. As such, this isn't remotely story-driven. The movie opens with a passage from A Visit from St. Nicholas, before cuttin...