Normally I save the “silent cinema” blog entries for
Thursdays…but I’m going to grant a little special dispensation to this week’s
Overlooked
Films on Tuesdays for a reason that I will reveal during the course of
this review.
Cecil B. DeMille’s
The Captive (1915) fits the
“overlooked” definition to a “T,” because for many years it was believed to be
a lost film.
The movie was rediscovered
in the Paramount Pictures vaults in 1970 and was subsequently preserved by the
Library of Congress, and with the exception of a showing here and there (it was
on the menu at Cinecon 40 in 2004, for example) it’s been an unnoticed item…but
starting today, that should surely change.
DeMille, who co-wrote the script with longtime collaborator
Jeanie Macpherson (and I mean “collaborator” in every sense of the word—the two
of them conducted a little tête-a-tête during the writing and shooting of
The Captive—an affair that lasted even beyond
DeMille’s eventual transition to “talking pictures”), crafts a film that tells
a simple, bittersweet love story involving a peasant girl and a Turkish
nobleman.
The woman is Sonya Martinovich
(Blanche Sweet), who ekes out a living on a small farm in a Montenegrin
village.
It’s wartime (the Balkan Wars),
and Sonya has just learned that her older brother Marko (Page Peters) has been
called up to the fight…which will leave only her and younger brother Milo
(Gerald Ward) to run the farm.
During a
skirmish known as The Battle of Lule Burgess, Marko is killed.
The nobleman of the story is Mahmud Hassan (House Peters), a
Turk taken prisoner during Lule Burgess.
Hassan is bound by a village decree to assist Sonia on her spread,
making good use of the prisoners of war since the Montenegrin men are off to
battle.
There is a great deal of
bitterness between Sonia and her “captive,” stemming from the death of her
brother—though Milo and Mahmud soon become fast friends.
Difficulties also arise when it’s clear that
Mahmud has never gotten his hands dirty engaged in menial labor due to his
nobleman status.
In time, Sonia and
Mahmud develop a mutual respect for one another…but their relationship must
stand up to a test when Turkish soldiers take over the village and threaten the
sanctity of the farm.
Based on a play scripted by DeMille and Macpherson (who has
a small part in the film),
The Captive
will come as a surprise to those more familiar with the director’s
“sin-and-salvation” efforts or even his later Biblical epics.
It’s sparingly told (the movie’s length is
only five reels), and awards us a look at how the 34-year-old Cece is becoming
more and more assured behind the motion picture camera.
According to the late Bob Birchard, author of
the essential
Cecil B. DeMille’s
Hollywood, DeMille apparently took advantage of recycling the costumes used
in
The Unafraid (1915), another
Balkan drama he directed that was released before
Captive.
While DeMille would
later develop a reputation in the industry for being able to masterfully
control “thousands of extras,” on
Captive
he was still learning the ropes; his insistence on using real, loaded guns
during some of the battle scenes resulted in an extra being killed.
The acting in
The
Captive eschews the stagy dramatics
commonly witnessed in films of this era, and both Sweet and Peters share a
pleasing chemistry in their scenes together (the two performers had worked with
DeMille in the earlier
The Warrens of Virginia [1915]).
Captive
would be Blanche Sweet’s last movie collaboration with director DeMille; she
didn’t particularly care for him off-screen (she thought him strange), and had
a far more positive experience working for Cecil’s older brother William
(making three films with Willie, all released in 1916).
Coming off having recently revisited DeMille’s
The Squaw Man (1914) a couple of weeks
ago (I DVR’d it off The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™), I have to
say I was much more impressed with
The
Captive, even though I’d readily
concede it’s not “major DeMille.”
But it
is well worth the time and effort to seek it out, and it makes its home video
debut today on DVD and
Blu-ray from
Olive Films, with an exquisite score
composed by Lucy Duke.
Many thanks to Olive’s
Bradley Powell for providing a screener; getting the opportunity to see a
rediscovered film here at
Thrilling Days
of Yesteryear is always a delight.
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