Review #410: 'Michael' (1924)

Famous painter Claude Zoret (Benjamin Christensen) is in love with friend, muse, and model Michael (Walter Slezak). They live comfortably and happily in their mansion, which is littered with Zoret's pieces with Michael as their inspiration. When the bankrupt Countess Lucia Zamikoff (Nora Gregor) comes to visit to ask Zoret to paint her, Zoret accepts but struggles to put any life into his painting. He can't depict her eyes, but Michael steps in and completes the painting. Sensing his infatuation with her, the Countess seduces Michael, and Zoret witnesses his relationship become more and more distant. Michael steals and sells Zoret's sketches and paintings in order to satisfy the Countess' spending habits, and Zoret eventually falls ill.

Although it's hardly tackled explicitly, and more suggested in looks, exchanges, and title-cards than sexual imagery, Michael's tackling of homosexuality was quite revolutionary in its day. Naturally, it failed financially and critically (although when Dreyer made The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) and became auteur, it has since been re-visited and praised), but it should be a film that any cinephile should see, especially those with an interest in the origins of Queer Cinema and the depiction of homosexuality in film. Benjamin Christensen, perhaps best known as director of the silent docu-horror masterpiece Haxan (1922), is masterful as Zoret, his face darkened with sadness, subtle jealousy, and tragic sentiment. Slazek and Gregor fair less well, and suffer in comparison to Christensen's depiction.

Although the climax is predictable, it has a feeling of inevitably which makes it fittingly moving and quite beautiful, similar in many ways to the ending of Dreyer's Ordet (1955). But the film is surprisingly rich and luscious, with Dreyer's usual blank canvas and bleak settings replaced by detailed sets, all captured by cinematographer's Rudolph Mate and Karl Freund (who appears here as art dealer Le Blanc, and would go on to work on some Universal's finest horror output in the 1930's). A wonderful, 'minor' work in Dreyer's wealthy filmography.


Directed by: Carl Theodor Dreyer
Starring: Benjamin Christensen, Walter Slezak, Nora Gregor
Country: Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #351: 'Ordet' (1955)

Family patriarch Morten (Henrik Malberg) lives in rural Denmark with his three sons - faithless father Mikkel (Emil Hass Christensen), the deranged Johannes (Preben Lerdorff Rye) who after going crazy studying theology, now believes himself to be Jesus Christ, and youngest son Anders (Cay Kristiansen). Anders is in love with the daughter of the leader of a strict religious sect, Anne (Gerda Nielsen), and asks both his own father and the father of his love, Peter (Ejner Federspiel), for her hand in marriage, who both refuse. Morten eventually agrees with the help of Mikken, but comes to loggerheads with Peter over their religious beliefs.

I don't know much about the work of the great Scandinavian director Carl Theodor Dreyer, as the only other film of his I've seen is the fantastic gothic 'horror' Vampyr (1932). I do know that his films are notoriously bleak, and is a favourite amongst Lars von Trier and his Dogme troupe. Ordet is no exception to the rule, as Dreyer films his interior scenes with minimal props, and allows the actors and their voices to fill the screen instead. The result is a beautiful and humanistic study of religion and the miraculous.

The main crux of the film focuses on the two fathers' views on religion, with Morten's beliefs allowing him to embrace life, while Peter lives a stricter, more sacrificial life. All the while Johannes, their apparently demented son, wanders the dunes and condemns the now faithless world they live in and the fact that they are ignorant to the fact that he is indeed Jesus Christ, and all they need is faith. The family's beliefs are tested when Mikkel's pregnant wife Inger (Birgitte Federspiel) goes into premature labour, and the local doctor fights to save both the her and the baby's life. The film builds towards an inevitable climax, but Dreyer's execution is that of elegance and beauty that allows one of the most moving, uplifting, and satisfying final scenes I've seen in cinema.

The film is slow moving, but the subject matter warrants such an attention to detail. There is also an underlying coldness to the film (this is also a Dreyer trait), and all the characters seem emotionally hesitant. Dreyer himself was adopted and experienced a lonely childhood, with his adoptive parents constantly re-enforcing the fact that he was lucky to now have a family and a home. Although these childhood memories clearly influence his work, including Ordet, he also sees hope and promise in humanity, which makes comparisons to the Dogme movement unfair, as there is real human emotion here. A true masterpiece, cementing Dreyer's reputation as one of cinema's most innovative, visionary and intelligent film-makers.


Directed by: Carl Theodor Dreyer
Starring: Henrik Malberg, Emil Hass Christensen, Preben Lerdorff Rye, Birgitte Federspiel
Country: Denmark

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie