This series is inspired by the Movie Lottery blog, whose author is picking DVD titles from a hat in order to decide which films to watch. I’ve selected another one from the hat to watch and present my review below.
FILM REVIEW: Movie Lottery 6 || Director/Writer Benjamin Christensen | Cinematographer Emil Dinesen | Starring Benjamin Christensen, Karen Sandberg | Length 85 minutes | Seen at home (DVD), Thursday 13 June 2013 || My Rating very good
It’s probably quite difficult to properly appreciate a film that is almost 100 years old (or it may be exactly 100 years old, as some sources list it as produced in 1913; however, I am taking the date from the Danish Film Institute DVD I own, as they seem like they’d be a trustworthy source on matters of Danish cinema). There are sequences here that seem deeply clichéd with such long hindsight, but must have been the height of cinematic sophistication at the time. Yet whatever its flaws, this is a wonderfully crafted piece of filmmaking.
The plot is a fairly straightforward one. As war is declared, Lieutenant van Hauen (played by the director, Benjamin Christensen) is called up to command a battleship and is handed sealed orders by his father, Rear Admiral van Hauen. However, these orders are intercepted by an enemy spy who has inveigled the affections of van Hauen’s wife (played by Karen Sandberg). And here’s where the high melodrama kicks in: Lt van Hauen is accused of treason, so his wife and blond-curled son must race against the clock to save him from the firing squad. In the course of this, there’s a bit of to-and-fro regarding a mysterious “X” (as in “marks the spot”, one imagines) that the spy has left on a document, the decoding of which leads to the smoking gun evidence.
It’s all run through with brio, although I must confess I did get a bit lost in the plot at points. What Christensen has, though, is a sure sense of visual style. There’s a particularly breathtaking shot of figures moving up a hill to a windmill, filmed into the sun so that everything is in ghostly, mysterious silhouette (you can see the image in the ‘poster’ attached to this review), but this is just one shot amongst many others of similar worth. Christensen’s cinematographer Emil Dinesen doesn’t seem to have any other credits, which is all the more surprising given the inventiveness shown in many of the beautiful and richly contrasted black-and-white set-ups.
Indeed, for every scene of hokey melodrama or frankly silly plotting (the army intercepts the spy’s secret communication by shooting his carrier pigeon), there’s some real visual — cinematic — intelligence on display, to surprise you at what a debut director less than 20 years into the medium’s history could come up with. The interruption of a vital communications link by the spies is illustrated by showing the words of a phone message being scrawled in bright, shining letters along telegraph wires, just prior to it being blown up (cut to the Rear Admiral, looking with shock at his now-silent phone). Mrs van Hauen’s fevered dreams fixating on the meaning of this “X” are economically conveyed by the image being drawn slowly over her sleeping figure, another early use of special effects by drawing directly onto the film. There are also early attempts at building suspense through cross-cutting between different storylines, which work rather well in the context of the period.
There’s still the matter of that labyrinthine plot, and I did find my attention wandering at times. Yet there’s enough here to make for a fascinating film, quite aside from its great age.