Works, By Duration: 31-60 minutes (37)

Total: 377 works

The Birth, the Life and the Death of Christ (La naissance, la vie et la mort du Christ)

The birth, life and death of Christ, in 25 scenes. This is what an epic looked like in 1906. Intertitles only provide the name of the scene. And the story is dramatized with minimal pantomime, that is recorded by a static and distant camera, thus giving the effect of paintings come to life. So those of us not already familiar with the story probably will be left clueless during most scenes.

The Taking Of Luke McVane/The Fugitive

Luke McVane is some geek that moves so slow you wonder what kind of “horse” this cowboy is really on. Wearing his virginity on his sleeve, he goes starry-eyed over the town floozy when she hoochie coochies for a saloon full of drunken cowboys. When Garcia takes her as private property, Luke remembers Broncho Billy And The Greaser and jumps at his chance to score nookie points. But, unlike Broncho Billy, this square flips his roscoe once too often, so the town figures the strange mad dog needs to be put down, and he ends up a lamster. Suddenly the nerd's looking less hero, more antihero - and this sleepy little flick turns out to be better than expected.

Note:
  • The Miracle Cure: Although the wounded sheriff initially had to be carefully helped into the saddle, when Apaches are spotted just a short while later he needs no help mounting the rear of a running horse!
  • An Equal Opportunity Employer: This work is marked as one featuring an “ethnic stereotype” because of the opening standoff with unruly knife-toting Garcia. But it must be noted that closer inspection of the background in later scenes shows an unusual twist for a film of that era: cowboys in similar Mexican garb join the Deputy's posses for lynching Luke McVane and for exterminating Native Americans.

Fatty and Mabel Adrift

This bloated one's for audiences that never tire of watching two hard-boiled city slickers play country bumpkin lovers, as in Those Country Kids and Fatty and Mabel's Simple Life. For the rest of us, there's always Al St. John, whose mugging, crying, violent pettiness, and rubbernecking when being strangled always gets a laugh from me.

The Silent Man

Surprise: this drops Hart's standard cowboy-changed-by-a-woman formula. Bigger surprise: it's a total mess...

  • 52 words of highfalutin prose on 3 title cards in the first 40 seconds to describe...nothing: Gee, the desert is awfully empty!
  • It gets worse. From the 90-second mark until 3 minutes in, there's never more than 6 seconds between title cards. Since the title cards are onscreen 5-9 seconds, most of time is spent reading, not viewing. The barrage of titles doesn't slow to a more reasonable pace until 5-6 minutes in.
  • But just when the titles let up, the action on screen in this video gets hopelessly muddled: the hero fights the villain, tries to escape, but somehow ends up out cold on the floor. The next time we see him, a fortnight later, he is followed by a man with a rifle who tells him: “You're turned loose, stranger,” - apparently, he's been jailed but we're not told why.
  • The hero's version of later events doesn't seem to agree with what is shown on screen.
  • When the hero next encounters the villain, he gets his revenge by forcing him to...do something that seems pointless and of no benefit.
  • Both the heroine's-little-brother subplot and the parson's-church subplot are never made to feel relevant - and are never shown to be resolved.
  • Worse of all, the resolution of the main conflict, between hero and villain, is the worst kind of script cop-out.
And then there is the biggest unresolved mystery: why is the hero called “Silent” when he is no more silent than anyone else in this silent film?

In The Hands Of Impostors (Den hvide slavehandels sidste offer)

Oddly, the impostors' ruse starts with a primitive hit-or-miss con act repeatedly performed in full public view - yet we are to believe that this silly stunt fronts an elaborate well-tuned network. While the patsy is still in the clutches of the con woman, a masher also swoops down on her - and she again falls victim to yet another persistent motor-mouth. Not long after she steps into the hands of the impostors, the film breaks down in hopeless confusion. The impostors (who remain unnamed, just referred to as “the impostors”) phone the blackmailer (misnamed “Mr. Bright”), who quickly has his hands all over the patsy. Meanwhile, the persistent masher (aptly named “Engineer Faith”) catches on to the flimflam and leaps on his White Knight horse. But before he arrives, another blackmailer (mysteriously named “Lord X”) muscles in on Mr. Bright and nabs the patsy - which leads Mr. Bright to counter by paying to have her kidnapped from Lord X. Meanwhile, amidst this torrent of cock brawls, no one has turned a dime of profit off the patsy - nor has anyone revealed any plans to cash in. This seems to be merely a confusing tale of a town desperately in need of new nooky. Still, the patsy - and the movie - is saved by a delightfully daring cock-buster.

Let this serve as a lesson for solo travellers, showing how personal information shared with strangers can be used harmfully - i.e. as a plot for a time-wasting movie.

Most interesting was the train station exit scene, which shows passers-by gawking at the camera and performers - a quaint record of the days before mobile digital devices, when people actually paid attention to their surroundings.

Tigris

The monotonous story of repeated disguises doesn't provide enough incentive to suffer through the eyestrain of viewing this poor quality print. Maybe all the creativity was spent on the hallucination sequence.

But there is one claim to fame here: in 7 years of Voidsville Follies, here is the first instance seen of someone tied to train tracks (actually, tied up and then dumped on the tracks) that seems to be done for drama, not laughs.