hamilton65

I'm writing this "review" in order to point out the basic error in the previous reviewers remarks. I believe the previous reviewer is actually thinking of the Alistair Sim 1951 version of the story and not the live TV broadcast on the BBC from 1950–which he is extremely unlikely to have seen since it's lost - unless he lived in London at the time and saw the original broadcast - doubtful.

Of course one can always hope that a copy of this will turn up at the BFI, along with Bransby Williams previous appearance in the 1928 Phonofilm short. He can be seen in an excerpt from Bleak House filmed in 1926, in which she plays the part of an old miser not unlike Scrooge.

Let's hope that will turn up some day.

(Generally I get quite annoyed when people review things they couldn't possibly have seen, bur in this case I'm fairly certain it was an innocent mistake.) But folks, please check that you really are reviewing the film you think you're reviewing.

2003 review:

Richard Oswald directs a fascinating selection of tales co-starring a youthful Conrad Veidt, Reinhold Schünzel and Anita Berber.

SLIGHT SPOILERS

As others have said this film has a rather casual feel to it, accentuated by the opening shots of the three actors, gathered for the camera, almost as though taking bows before the film proper. A framing sequence has the three emerge from old paintings in an antiquarian bookshop,and read the stories which the film illustrates Through most of these, Veidt and Schunzel play rivals over Berber, and the stories include Poe's "The Black Cat" and an excellent run through of Stevenson's "Suicide Club" Played for the most part in real time the latter builds a real sense of unease as the clock inexorable approaches midnight. However the best story is "Die Hand" in which Schünzel murders Berber's husband, Veidt, in order to have her to himself and is then haunted by the latter during a séance.

Playing somewhat like an Amicus compendium 50 years before the event, Weird Tales may be a modest affair, but it's fast moving, atmospherically shot and occasionally stylish. The version I saw was a beautiful 2002 restoration with an evocative score and German title cards (not a problem except in the last and weakest story where the titles are in verse)

Whilst it's not a great film it's fast moving and enjoyable and stands up well 84 years later.

2014 update:

But it's in its central trio of performers that the film holds it's real interest – each illustrating a different aspect of how art and culture in Germany would evolve in the turbulent years to come.

Most familiar is Conrad Veidt - the versatile and expressive star of German and international cinema. Here, as always, he is fascinating in what seems like a warm up for his great roles in the 20's.

He became a favourite German actor, starring in dozens of films across Europe and in America. An avowed anti-Nazi, yet one who believed in the essential goodness of people, he relocated to England in 1932 but continued appearing in German productions until a notorious incident in 1934. He had just completed the remake of "William Tell and was due to return to England for "Jew Suess" a tale of a Jewish 18th Century financier who tries to ease his people's oppression through his influence at court.

Knowing of this, Goebels had Veidt placed under house arrest and he was forced to write a "sick note" to the UK producer, Michael Balcon. However Balcon was suspicious and being diplomatically connected, threatened to create an international incident of this unless an approved doctor was allowed to examine Veidt.

Of course Veidt was perfectly well and the Nazis were forced to release him. Veidt was subsequently vilified in the German press and from then on only worked in England, France and America and 71years after his death is remembered with particular affection by his British fans.

The rather obscure Reinhold Schünzel also excels, a protean figure here, and similar in life – alternating between acting and directing throughout his career. His directorial style was influenced by his two mentors (Richard Oswald and Ernst Lubitsch,) and several of his films (Viktor und Viktoria (1933) and Amphityron (1935)) show an unmistakable light and risqué touch.

Despite his Jewish background, Schunzel's success as a director was such that he was awarded the dubious distinction of Honorary Aryan and permitted to continue in Germany. But he grew frustrated by the increasing interference on his projects and left for America in 1937.

He directed a few films at MGM (none with particular success) but his career stalled with the failure of " Ice Follies of 1939", a disaster of such proportion that star Joan Crawford was labelled "box-office poison".

After that he returned to acting - notably as the sly Nazi doctor who suggests slowly poisoning Ingrid Bergman in Hitchcock's "Notorious". He continued in smaller parts through the early 50's before attempting to revive his directorial career in Germany.

But he discovered that his association with Nazi era cinema had indelibly stained him. He was fired from his comeback film "Die Dubarry" (1951), had difficulty finding further work and died penniless in 1954.

Then there's Anita Berber – resembling a 19th century version of Nina Hagan. Berber is the femme fatale at the centre of each story and in the prologue she satirises the dewy eyed heroine most leading actresses played in those days.

She's an enthusiastic and energetic presence throughout the film and a good match for her co-stars.

In one sequence we catch a glimpse of her dancing on stage - and it was in this guise that 19 year old Berber came to director Oswald's attention.

Berber had undoubted star quality and was busy in the following years - even appearing opposite Veidt and Schunzel again.

But Berber's acting was eclipsed by her real life notoriety - as artist, writer and avante-garde dancer whose performances (often nude and overtly sexual) shocked the more conservative factions. In addition her open bisexually and prolific drug taking marked her as one of the most controversial figures in 20's Berlin and she can be seen as a vampire type figure in a famous Otto Dix portrait of 1926.

Berber would have perished under the Nazis - Hitler apparently described her as the "Devil's spawn". But her decadent lifestyle ensured she didn't live that long, contracting TB whilst on tour and dying at just 30 in November 1928.

So watch and enjoy this little compendium, marvel at the stranger than fiction lives of those starring in this, and wonder at the dull as dirt people we think of as "stars" today.

Often overlooked in Buster filmographies and only recently included in the imdb, this is an interesting item in Buster's career. Not quite a film. It's actually one of two pseudo features that British Lion compiled from episodes of Life with Buster, his shot on film TV series, about Buster's misadventures both running a sporting goods shop, and a local theatre company.

The "film" is thus a series self contained skits built round one or other premise. Reputedly Buster didn't enjoy this series, missing the live audience of his previous show. Also Buster found it hard to come up with a half hour's worth of original material each week and in future would do only guest spots. You can sence this difficulty in the variable quality of the sequences here, many of which harken back to Buster's vaudeville days eg an onstage sequence with Buster as an idiotic suitor, one of 3, who come a courting..

Though some of the material is weak, Buster is as always a pro and he does have a few very funny moments, notably a reprise of the piggy bank gag from Cameraman, a fun poster sticking scene, in which Eleanor Keaton makes a brief appearance, and the climactic scene where he attempts to perform the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet and the set falls forward on him just like in Steamboat Bill Jnr.. Eleanor again appears here as Juliet, a nice touch.

5 out of 10

Spoilers Ahead

A nifty little thriller, similar in plotline to Jamaica Inn. It's nothing special but it's an atmospheric and well photographed piece by one shot director Baxter who manages to cram a lot into 40 minutes. A few familiar faces turn up in this, the heroic reporter is played by Tom Helmore, who 20 years later was memorable as Gavin Elster in Hitchcock's Vertigo. It's a rare lead for an actor little known outside that one key role but he handles it quite well.

There are some nice moments of suspense and a few typically flailing fist fights as the reporter, his girl friend and a photographer investigate the mysterious cliff top house of the title.. Comedy relief is provided by the photographer who would much rather stay as far from danger as possible, ironically in the Inn where the real villain resides..

This turns out to be Bob the landlord and he is played by DJ Williams, a familiar supporting actor from Tod Slaughter's films who here enjoys the opportunity of being the baddie himself for a change.

Good fun if you like this kind of thing.

A strange ending to Tod's film career, this is one of a series of shorts where an unseen commentator quiz's the audience on various tenuously related topics. Cheaply put together and utilising much stock footage it's hard to see where Tod fits into this until about half way through when the commentator segues from a question about a pub called The Slaughtered Calf into "another kind of Slaughter. Hold on to your seats as Puzzle Corner brings you Tod Slaughter!"

Then the film cuts to a billboard proclaiming "Tod Slaughter as Sweeney Todd"

We then get a short scene with Tod delivering a monologue in character as Sweeney. This is done in a single take with no other actors and features Sweeney reflecting on all the throats he's cut and his likely fate of his own throat. Tod addresses most of this to a large sack which he balances on his barber's chair. Whether this is meant to stand in for a character isn't clear and it gives the scene an eerie quality, especially since it's his farewell screen appearance.

At almost 70, Tod is heavier than before and sports a ludicrously full headed wig. Though his age shows, the familiar throaty chuckle is still there and he delivers his words with all his old fervour.

Unfortunately after a few moments the narrator resumes his quizzing so we don't hear all Tod says.

Then the film cuts to other subjects and we bid farewell to Tod.

Nightmarish and surreal, this Pathetone short gives us a glimpse of Tod at his funniest, a wonderfully sick piece of film which is probably closer to his stage work than most.

A Pathe Reporter approaches a ramshackle looking door, hoping to interview the great man. Inside we see Tod "at home" in what looks like a torture chamber. Hearing the reporter outside Tod opens the door, grabs him and hoists him bodily inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

Inside he locks the door and straps the reporter into a barber's chair, and fiendishly strops his razor blade as he tries to ask Tod about his career.

A leggy chorus girl walks on and Tod enquires whether she's sure she's in the right film. The reporter nervously remarks that she has very pretty... legs, and Tod concurs before chasing her off screen with a gleeful leer. We hear a scream and he returns, presenting one of her "pretty legs" to the horrified reporter.

"This is murder" he exclaims.

"Not murder my dear fellow. Slaughter... Tod Slaughter." answers Tod before breaking into one of his best chuckles which continues over the closing credits.

They just don't make 'em like this anymore.

At the end of the 40's Buster was one of the first of the great stars to appear regularly on TV. Although his starring career in movies was long past, he made a big hit with early TV audiences and was even given two local TV series which were quite successful but were very expensive to produce.

In the episode I've seen of The Buster Keaton Show, apparently the only one to survive, Buster has decided to get fit and has hired a trainer for the purpose.

Obviously the episode requires a bit of set up and story line so there's a lengthy scene with some actors setting up a story before Buster appears. The story is that BK (as they call him) has decided to get fit and wants a trainer to get him into shape. Then they introduce the trainer who tells us about his girl and how he's worried about her talking to other men.

Since most TV at this was live it's not surprising that the actors seem quite intimidated and one guy stumbles over several lines. This material, written by Buster's old collaborator Clyde Bruckman is pretty laboured and unnecessary and it made me uncertain as to whether I was going to like the show or not. All this changes when Buster enters and the others leave him to it.

We're then treated to two 10 minute virtual solo's from Buster as he proceeds from one form of exercise to the next, managing to bungle each in inventive and hilarious ways. He also gets to show off his talents with a basket ball, performing a series of increasingly surreal and improbable tricks, Even netting it whilst lying on his back. You can see Buster gets a big kick out of the live audience and his delight is quite infectious. Although it's half a century ago watching the Great Man do his thing in real time is a considerable pleasure. Inevitably buster gets himself in trouble as he accidentally conks a female who comes into the gym, knocking her out.

As he tries to revive her, Buster hauls and throws the girl around like a rag doll in a scene reminiscent of putting the drunk to bed in "Spite Marriage" Then his trainer walks in and of course it turns out the girl is his wife.

Suspecting Buster of canoodling the scene is set for an all to real boxing session, but Buster miraculously wins.

At 55 Buster is still amazingly able to take the falls and you just know none of the stunts are faked in this. As in his films Buster has the uncanny ability to make all the falls and entanglements in the ropes seem completely spontaneous and natural, showing as always that he never needed words to be funny.

A wonderfully exciting and action packed adventure, Michel Strogoff was a big hit in it's time but with the coming of sound was virtually forgotten until this superb restoration returned it to it's proper state. A huge production, easily rivalling Hollywood's biggest, it represents the French film industry at it's most accomplished although ironically two of the prime personnel were Russian émigrés. Directed by Viktor Tourjansky, this film has it all, epic sweep, pulsating action, intrigue, romance and even a little comedy relief. Despite a 3 hour length, the pace never lags and the story is compelling throughout. Technically this is cutting edge 1926-style, with it's use of colour and tinting as well as some dazzling editing of the type associated with Gance and Eisenstein.

It left me stunned and exhausted.

But what raises this film to true classic status is the incredibly charismatic performance of Ivan Mousjoukine, who draws us effortlessly into Strogoff's mission to reach the Tsar in time to save the empire from the Tartars. From his first appearance Mousjoukine exerts a magnetic hold on our attention. He never overplays, yet conveys a wide range of emotions and thoughts with the subtlest of movements.

This is acting on a level with the very best silent cinema has to offer and I found myself longing to know more about this figure

There wasn't much on the web but my friend Henry, who introduced me to the film gave me some more details.

Mousjoukine was a major star in Russia until the revolution when he and other Russian directors and writers fled to France. They helped put together Film Albatross productions which also attracted directors like Jean Epstein and Marcel l'Herbier. Mousjoukine also did some writing and directing as well as acting (A film he directed, THE BURNING STAKE, inspired Jean Renoir to switch from ceramics to film!)

Unfortunately, in the late twenties Albatross went under. Sound came and Mousjoukine was hampered by his really heavy Russian accent (some of the other Russians didn't even know how to speak French) and his roles became fewer and smaller. He had been a very popular star in France but he was also a big spender and his income quickly dwindled in the thirties. He died of tuberculosis in the charity ward of a hospital.

Though this was a tragic and premature end (he was only 50) at least it's possible to experience the power of his acting and appreciate a figure who's overdue for re-evaluation.

Come on Film Four or TCM USA, give this magical film the audience it deserves.

10 out of 10

For a Brit flick of '32, this is surprisingly cinematic and stylish (and the granddaddy of train films) with excellent performances from Conrad Veidt, Cedric Hardwick, Finlay Currie and especially Donald Calthrop (best known as the squirming chiseller in "Blackmail") here an art thief on the run from partners Veidt and Williams.

Directed by the underrated Walter Forde this is a smart Hitchcockian piece with a good deal of suspense and humour, distinguished by stylishly nimble camerawork and excellent production design. As other reviewers have pointed out it does show it's age at times, with slightly muffled sound quality but provided you have patience with this it's good entertainment, and an interesting glimpse of the how the British acted abroad in those days.

Sidney Gilliat (of "the Lady Vanishes") had a hand in the writing and I could see themes and situations that would be developed further in future train movies.

The suspense builds throughout as Calthrop contrives to avoid his former partners one of whom, Veidt (in fine clipped form), has vowed to kill him. The sequence where Calthrop is literally presented to them, to be part of five in a round of poker, is a study in forced smiles and friendliness. Calthrop can't stop winning, much to the amusement of Veidt and the consternation of the others.

This is just the midway point of the film which also provides a great early part for Sir Cedric as a business magnet who appears philanthropic but in private is a stingy, deeply unpleasant individual, with little to differentiate him from the crooks. He is caught out though when his much abused underling discovers his dishonesty.

All in all an excellent vintage thriller

Possible spoiler ahead

This hilarious quota quickie is a prime contender for the British Golden Turkey award. Taken straight it's pretty typical of it's time, a well photographed thriller in which the relatives of a murdered millionaire, (smarmy guy, drippy young hero and heroine, snooty dowager, various pompous and/or inscrutable types) gather at his creepy house and search for his will (recorded on a record). But one of them is guilty of the murder and will stop at nothing to gain the inheritance. (flash of lightening... cackle cackle.) Eventually the mystery is solved by an outsider, in this case a local vicar (and amateur detective).

That's the plot more or less and while everyone (well... most everyone) tries, it's when things go wrong that this movie comes uniquely to life.

For example in the midst of a heated row over the whereabouts of the record, Reverend John Malcolm makes his first appearance, strolling in from the garden in search of a lost golf ball. O.B. Clarence plays this character with such dithering languidity it's hard to believe he could find his way to the bathroom let alone solve the mystery. But he's more resourceful (or downright nosey) than he seems and in an series of increasingly amusing face-offs reveals that everyone there had a motive and opportunity to knock the old boy off.

All the performances are bad, whether it's the ever so English heroine, the smarmy fellow (who gives roughly the same performance in other quickies of this period) or the typically flailing fist fights that occur towards the end of the movie.

But by far the most ridiculous performance comes from A. Bromley Davenport as the guarded Peter Browne. The scene in which the Reverend questions Browne and breaks down his resistance is a classic of bad acting, whether shrieking "What the hell are you trying to do to me" in an incredible falsetto, or, with an evil smile, confessing his secret addiction to "drrrugs".

While nothing else quite compares to this moment, the various absurd plot twists mean it's never dull. Also it's interesting to see a 23 year old Jack Hawkins a long way removed from the type of character he's remembered for.

Highly recommended.

Although I only saw this once in the early 80's I remember it as an unfunny, insubstantial satire on Hollywood with a deteriorating Barrymore as Rupert De Grasse, film director for Miracle Films, and a poor immitation of his classic turn as Oscar Jaffe in "Twentieth Centruy", even down to a his "I close the iron door" line.

Though it was made in the midst of his self ridicule period, Barrymore doesn't make such a spectacle of himself in this, in fact he makes very little impact at all since despite his top billing he's in the movie very little. Most of this shapeless movie concentrates on the shenanigans of Nazi Fritz Feld and De Grasses annoying double talking side kick who reminded me of one of Dick Dastardly's cohorts. The story for what it's worth deals with the desperate producer/director's attempt to drum up publicity for his newest movie, one of a long line of disastors.

This movie is such a waste of time, even for Barrymore addicts, who'll feel short changed and bored by all the subplots. Admittedly the last scene with various critics trying to make sense of the chopped up film De Grasse finally premieres is quite droll. Otherwise avoid.

Possible spoiler ahead

Interesting thriller (not really a horror film)based on a radio series which was popular in the late 40's. Valentine Dyall, who was known to radio fans as The Man in Black appears briefly at the beginning and intones a sinister narration as we are introduced to the venal 2nd wife and sister of a sick millionaire played unexpectedly by Sid James. James modifies his usual rasping delivery to such a degree that he's not instantly recognizable as the millionaire.

His second wife, her daughter and her sometimes lover are a truly repulsive trio of villains as they conspire to drive the dead millionaire's daughter, (who's due to inherit the estate) mad in order to have her committed and take the estate for themselves. The poor girl's only real friend is the one person her father trusted, the drunken yet loyal boatkeeper Hodges.

This has some clever and amusing twists especially as the bodies pile up and just as quickly disappear. Gradually it comes to seem the girl may have some supernatural assistance.

This is all pleasantly entertaining until the climatic seance which I found a bit of a disappointment. Considering this was a Hammer production, the film-makers could have played with our and the character's perceptions a bit. This wouldn't have changed the outcome but could've provided a more exciting resolution.

Overall a decent time passer with good moments.

My wife and I recently saw this under it's original title of "Ghost of Rashmon Hall."

It's a very low budget, very British quickie from the late 40's, with some shaky acting from a cast of unknowns (aside from the sinister Dyall). Less than an hour long, this could've turned out as just another forgettable filler, and indeed has been completely overlooked by most critics. Yet this little film abounds in genuinely creepy moments, startling and unexpected visuals and an overwhelming air of menace.

I honestly can't think of another film where incompetence and inspiration mix to such a degree. But the narrative is so gripping and the high points so good that you end up accepting the film on it's own terms. Several times we had to rewind just to appreciate some of the visual effects, all achieved by simple lighting and in-camera effects but each one achieving a truly supernatural ambience.

If I say any more I'll start giving away plot elements and I don't want to spoil it for you. All I'll say is try to get hold of this one, or tape it if it should ever turn up on TV.

Possible spoiler ahead This is one of only 4 surviving comedies featuring John Bunny and Flora Finch, who, forgotten now, once enjoyed worldwide fame before his sudden death whilst touring in 1915. Whether this is typical of their work is hard to say, but this simple episode is a pleasant if unexciting sampler.

It's all about a little girl and her jolly uncle (Bunny) who's fun and games are disrupted when Uncle falls for the new nanny (Flora Finch) and in particular the Rapunzal-like long hair which is "her crowning glory".

Both the child and her jealous mother are less than amused by the new arrival. For the child it means the loss of her playmate, and for the mother possibly the loss of a "guardian" (her motivation is somewhat unclear) so the latter schemes to get rid of the intruder. Realizing that what attracts Bunny is Finch's flowing tresses, the rival gives her daughter a large pair of scissors and points her in the direction of the sleeping Finch. When Bunny sees his beloved with her brand new hair cut, he can't bear to look at her and the poor lady is summarily dismissed.

It's interesting to see American comedy as it was before Mack Sennett introduced slap stick. The humour is that of a very mild situation comedy, with a somewhat cruel payoff. Interestingly the story as such revolves round the child and her vindictive parent. Bunny is merely a "straight man" whilst Flora Finch whether flirting, brushing her hair or reacting in horror when she finds it hacked off provides most of the smiles.

Actually I felt more than a little sorry for her as she trudged dejectedly out of the house at the end.

Painful self humiliation from a fallen star. Barrymore here plays himself as a has been Shakespearean star so desperate for a Radio contract that he agrees to appear opposite Kay Kyser and band in a festival of the bard's plays.

John was on his last legs when he made this, as testified by a bloated and sometimes drunken appearance and he's treated badly by the script and cast (all his tax and drinking problems are trotted out as "humour" and in a dream scene Barrymore is even shown as a bull defeated by toreador Kyser). Yet this film does have a certain weird amusement value if you catch it in the right mood and if you can forget it's his final film..

Barrymore works very hard to make the most of this script, bellowing and posturing his way through the proceedings. It's a million miles from subtle but with his snorts and grunts and bulging eyes he certainly holds the attention and even generates the odd laugh. Occasionally there's a flash of his old talent. At one point he delivers part of Hamlet's To Be Or Not To Be soliquey in an attempt to demonstrate how Shakespeare should be performed. The film and the scene to this point lead us to expect that Barrymore will send the speech up.

Instead in the midst of the frantic mugging Barrymore gives a heart felt and totally straight reading of the scene. It lasts a minute and is intensely moving. There's genuine rawness here and John himself seems quite overcome. (It's extraordinary they kept this in) For a few scenes after this we get to hear his voice giving further beautifully modulated readings from Romeo and Juliet before the movie goes back to it's demeaning purpose.

Patsy Kelly is one of the other talents who help save this farrago from complete disaster.

For a long time I only knew of this film for it's historical place as the earliest surviving 2 strip Technicolor film. I was curious to see it but expected little more than an interesting museum piece.

A wonderful surprise then, to discover this version of Madam Butterfly, self produced by Technicolor, is a poignant gem of silent cinema, deserving much wider exposure than it's status as a technical first would indicate.

On the technical side the colour is extremely attractive and well integrated into the story. Unlike some two colour films (The Viking, Show of Shows and King of Jazz) where colour correction is used to bring out blue's which originally photographed as silver grey, "Toll of the Sea" is authentic and unretouched, aside from the final lost sequence which had to be reshot in 1985. Since the process wasn't yet refined for filming in artificial light, the "interiors" in "Toll" are filmed in daylight. This is no drawback, however, since the real exteriors lend the film a freshness lacking from later studio bound works.

Another big plus is that the makers actually cast an Asian actress in the central role, instead of going the route of say Broken Blossoms. Perhaps this was because few actors would risk working on such an experimental project, or perhaps the film makers wanted the film to be as authentic as possible. Either way it gives the film an honesty absent from Hollywood's occasional treatments of such themes.

Sensitive direction and the wonderful performance of Anna May Wong, make this a particularly compelling piece. Although just 19, Wong's acting is both subtle and deeply felt. Witness the devastating moment when he tells her she can't come to America with him. The hurt and pain in Wong's face and eyes, which she bravely covers, could melt the stoniest heart. (I'll definitely keep an eye open for Wong's other work) Her leading man is somewhat stiffer but then his performance fits with the confused character he's playing.

Even if like me, you start watching this for the colour, you'll swiftly be caught up in it's story and by the artistry of it's youthful star.

An unpretentious 'B' with the great John B in one of his few latter day leads. Considering the poor performances he was giving at this point (horrendously hammy in 3 Bulldog Drummond's or distant and uninvolved through much of Maytime) it's a pleasant surprise to see him deliver a controlled and interesting performance as the crafty Dr Tindal.

Though given star billing, Barrymore is frequently off screen whilst the film concentrates on a subplot of cop Bickford's on going run-ins with an annoying reporter. Whether this was through Paramount's distrust of Barrymore's poor memory and drinking or because of a deficient script isn't clear, but the result is the film plays like a prototype "Columbo", with the villain's identity known from the outset and the clues piling up to show how he did it.

As for John's performance, certainly it doesn't rank with his work in Topaze or Counsellor at Law, but though given little to do, the suavely murderous Dr Tindal holds our attention and seems more focused than any of his other work at this time. The best moment is when Tindal discovers his patient and accomplice, Jack Reed, plans to blackmail him. In one close up Barrymore convey's a chilling change of demeanour, as he resolves a course of treatment brother Lionel would never have taken in the Kildare movies....

This fourth film to tell the story of Squire William Corder, a real life Bristish aristo who thought himself above the law.is a good example of late silent British film-making, and is somewhat better cinematically than the more famous version.

This is a period of British film history whose films (excepting Hitchcock's) are rarely revived, and that's a shame. For, in an era before Sound and the Quota Quickie law caused a drastic drop in budgets, Maria Marten is both an atmospheric and well produced example of an industry capable of producing worthwhile movies.

Whilst somewhat stagy in places, Warwick Ward gives a restrained and convincing performance as the cold and haughty Corder and most of the other acting is of similar quality with the exception of Maria's father, who indulges in some over emphatic thigh slapping in his impersonation of a country type.

Without the juicy ham of Slaughter on display, the social criticism behind the melodrama is much more prominent. The murder scene and it's aftermath are well presented, though the 9.5mm print I saw isn't in the best shape at this point. Also the shooting of the gypsy, for nothing other than arguing with the squire, is presented in a remarkably casual way.

Often termed a horror film (due to it's background of stage magic) this is really a tale of thwarted love. Conrad Veidt excels as the kindly Erik the Great who finds his soon to be bride has fallen in love with one of his assistants. The discovery scene is a superb piece of acting from Veidt, as he shifts from shock to heartbreak, struggling to be magnanimous, and then gradually to cold calculation with the subtlest changes of expression.

These moments and a dynamic trial scene elevate what is otherwise an okay backstage melodrama into a truly compelling tale of jealousy and redemption. Palo Fejos, director of the wonderful "Lonesome", injects some stylish visuals.

The version I've seen is a truncated and mute print of 48 minutes, so I may have missed some of the film's finer points.

Seven years before "Snow White" Wladyslaw Starewicz produced a truly amazing piece of stop motion animation, not only one of the first to use sound and dialogue as more than decoration, but the first truly adult animation with a blackly comic story-line that's astonishingly fresh today.

The culmination of twenty years of pioneering animation, "Tale" was virtually forgotten from it's release till the early 1990's when it resurfaced at various film festivals. Seeing "Tale" now it's easy to understand why 1930's audiences might have had a hard time with this. The brutality of humour and characters would've been off-putting to most and even now the film an ability to shock.

It's easy to go into this expecting a more primitive "Song of the South" and at first this seems like where we're headed. But there's a cynicism and sophistication Walt could never have imagined.

Reynaud (craftily voiced by Romain Bouquet)is no Disney hero nor should he be taken as a soft hearted villain. Completely amoral, loyal to none (outside his family) he ruthlessly exploits the gullibility of his peers (and even the king himself), in a series of inventive and savagely comic encounters to a point where the enraged animal kingdom declares war on him.

Ten years in the making, "Tale" offers numerous highlights (the drunken rabbit in the monastery, the attack on Reynaud's castle; not to mention a particularly surreal and endearing song between a love smitten cat and a royal girl dove during the strange armistice in which no animal is allowed to eat another.)

An unforgettable and remarkable movie that defies it's age. Try to look out for this one on video (it's available) or in animation festivals... Better still write into your local TV station and request it so more people can see it.