Category: Directed by George Melford

The Sheik (1921, George Melford)

The uncredited editor of The Sheik had a thankless task–during the first act, director Melford is packing in so much expository information all the cuts to introduce new information. The Sheik’s silent, the editing of the first act is always important in a silent film. There needs to be a certain pace, there needs to be a certain amount of information conveyed. Especially in a film like The Sheik, which opens with a lot of characters and then winnows them down. And the uncredited editor doesn’t do well with this expository first act. But, the editor does do well in the second and third acts of the film, when there’s finally visual action.

The Sheik isn’t any great shakes of a film. Lead Rudolph Valentino has more charm in this one than he does acting proficiency. And some of that charm is just from Valentino pulling off the outlandish costumes. He’s an Arabian sheik, educated in Paris, who comes across an English lady (a far less charming Agnes Ayres) and decides to kidnap her. It’s not all in harmless fun, of course, but the danger question gets answered pretty quick.

Why do I feel like I’m writing a synopsis of a romance novel and trying to make it sound just a little smarter than a romance novel. The Sheik isn’t very smart, it’s not very stupid, it’s not very anything. Maybe it’s the scope of the picture; it does start with some grandiose scale–Brits on vacation in the Middle East–but then it shrinks down to Valentino and Ayres hanging out in Valentino’s enormous tent palace. These sequences get boring, though they do give Ayres her best scenes in the film. Melford doesn’t know how to direct her in the first act and she’s a helpless damsel in the third act, which is really dumb because she’s already shown herself not to be helpless. But you cut it some slack because, why not?

The Sheik is likable without being amiable, which is something of an accomplishment. Good supporting turns from Adolphe Menjou and Walter Long.

Gorgeous title cards (also uncredited).

1.5/4★½

CREDITS

Directed by George Melford; screenplay by Monte M. Katterjohn, based on the novel by Edith Maude Hull; director of photography, William Marshall; released by Paramount Pictures.

Starring Rudolph Valentino (Ahmed Ben Hassan), Agnes Ayres (Lady Diana Mayo), Adolphe Menjou (Dr. Raoul de St. Hubert), Frank Butler (Sir Aubrey Mayo), Charles Brinley (Mustapha Ali), Lucien Littlefield (Gaston) and Walter Long (Omair).

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Drácula (1931, George Melford)

A lot of Drácula’s hundred minute runtime is spent with Eduardo Arozamena talking really slow to José Soriano Viosca and Barry Norton. Arozamena’s Professor Van Helsing (so nice to have such a familiar “brand” you can just talk about the characters and assume some passing familiarity) and Viosca and Norton are the guys who need to believe him about vampires. Dracula–played by Carlos Villarías–is after Norton’s fiancée Lupita Tovar. Viosca’s her father, though the film never really does anything with it.

Viosca and Norton are basically just around to hear Arozamena’s exposition. Director Melford does all right with it, actually. He seems to understand how much information they’re conveying because he usually breaks it up with some of Pablo Álvarez Rubio’s antics (as Renfield). Through some luck, screenwriter Baltasar Fernández Cué understands Rubio’s importance in the film. He opens the picture, he introduces the viewer not just to Villarías but to himself. Rubio is the only actor in the film to get a scene (or two) to himself. Everything else in the picture involves regular cast members. And Rubio’s really likable. It makes him a great tormented victim.

So Drácula is long. There’s no music and very little ambient sound. It’s often just watching Villarías walk around (in what appears–oddly–to be a London After Midnight homage). Melford’s lucky to have Tovar, who’s able to get enough sympathy from the audience just from her performance because there’s really not much character in Cué’s script.

As Tovar’s friend, Carmen Guerrero only gets two scenes and the script gives her more character. She’s good too (or gives the impression of having the ability to be good, but the film dumps her early).

Besides Norton, who’s terrible, and Viosca, who’s ineffective, Drácula is well-acted. Villarías’s got to play a walking, talking monster, which–when the film doesn’t give any character to said monster–might be the specific problem of Dracula adaptations, and he does stumble. But Melford gets a genuinely creepy conclusion when he finally kidnaps Tovar.

Tovar’s great. Did I already call her out?

Arozamena’s kind of fun as Van Helsing. He almost plays it like a comedy.

There are some editing problems (cutting in the footage from Tod Browning’s English language problems Dracula), but Arthur Tavares does well with this version’s footage. And George Robinson’s photography is magnificent. He’s so graceful Melford’s often employed dolly shots come off well.

Drácula’s pretty good. Not great, but pretty good.

2.5/4★★½

CREDITS

Directed by George Melford; screenplay by Baltasar Fernández Cué, based on the screenplay and play by Hamilton Dean, John L. Balderston and Garrett Fort and the novel by Bram Stoker; director of photography, George Robinson; edited by Arthur Tavares; produced by Carl Laemmle Jr.; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring Carlos Villarías (Conde Drácula), Lupita Tovar (Eva), Barry Norton (Juan Harker), Pablo Álvarez Rubio (Renfield), Eduardo Arozamena (Van Helsing), José Soriano Viosca (Doctor Seward), Carmen Guerrero (Lucía), Amelia Senisterra (Marta) and Manuel Arbó (Martín).


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THIS POST IS PART OF THE HOLLYWOOD’S HISPANIC HERITAGE BLOGATHON HOSTED BY AURORA OF ONCE UPON A SCREEN.

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