"A queen made me a lord, but God made me a man!"
Gosh, what a fittingly republican sentiment that is for this
of all weekends. Personally, I'm actually a bit of a moderate royalist these
days but I don't really go in for the whole personality cult thing. Is it just
me who finds the jubilee a bit scarily conformist, even threatening? This
weekend you'll mostly find me battening down the hatches and playing the Sex
Pistols very loudly. Anyway…
I first became aware of this film as an influence on Bob
Kane when he came up with the character of the Joker back in 1940. Whatever
book I was reading (something to do with the fiftieth anniversary of Batman back in 1989, I think) featured a
photograph of Conrad Veidt in this film, looking uncannily like the character.
And now I've finally seen it. It's tragic melodrama about a man deformed with a
permanent grim, with a lot of pathos and a lot of meditating on how, like, all
clowns are sad. There's one scene in particular, with Gwynplaine (the eponymous
character) on stage in make-up, where it suddenly becomes obvious that this is
exactly where the image of the Joker sprang from. In fact, not only does he
look exactly like the Joker, he looks
exactly like Heath Ledger as the Joker. It's quite uncanny.
This is based on a novel by Victor Hugo, albeit one so
obscure that I suspect few people reading this will ever have clapped eyes on a
copy, let alone read it. It's exactly what you probably expect, though; a
melodrama with tragedy, romance, swordfights and an absurdly virtuous heroine,
who in this case is blind. It's an entertaining enough romp, in a melodramatic
kind of way, although the depiction of gypsies raises eyebrows, and so does the
fact that the only two women in the film are the blind, virtuous Dea and the
flighty, flirty Duchess who, in spite of the period clothing, is quite the
flapper. Er, virgin / whore dichotomy, anyone? Also, there's a scene where the
camera peers through a keyhole at the semi-naked Duchess. It's not so much the
male gaze as What the Butler Saw.
It's ostensibly set in England during the reign of Queen
Anne, with a flashback to the reign of James II… and these two monarchs are
literally the only characters with names which sound remotely English. The
setting doesn't remotely convince, costumes aside, as seventeenth and early
eighteenth century England,
and I suspect a lot of this would be due to the original novel, and Victor Hugo
failing to realise that Stuart Britain was not like Louis XIV's France. We have
scenes of Queen Anne ordering people to be tortured for information, and
aristocrats being forced to live at court and marry at the whim of their
monarch. All this is contrasted against a rather cruel world of clowns and
freak shows which, while very, very creepy, is much more interesting.
It's also rather odd, even jarring, that this film is in the
style of contemporary German Expressionism. It often looks great- there's a
particularly eerie scene of hanged bodies swaying on the ropes- but it doesn't
really evoke the setting. Still, it's worth watching for Conrad Veidt alone.
It's also fascinating in that it isn't quite a silent film but it isn't quite a
talkie either: there's no dialogue but there's the odd incongruous sound
effect, of bells, wind and the like. We even get crowds shouting.
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