Far be it from me to have reservations about Pete Bradshaw’s glowing review of The Artist , because after all, he is the Guardian’s esteemed film critic and to boot a former guest speaker of Film Nite. What’s more, the doyen of film scribes Philip French also turned in a favourable piece two days later in the Observer. As long -serving Film Nite members will testify, my over-riding consideration when choosing a film for viewing is not whether it is likely to be favourably received by the group, but rather, whether I have sufficient relevant material to sustain a two hour presentation the following Tuesday at SohoHouse. The Silent period of Hollywood
For those of you with little or no knowledge of The Artist, the story consists of a couple of silent screen stars, George and Preppy, and their attempts to survive the coming of sound, and it is true to say the film’s director makes no secret of the fact that he purloined the experiences of Greta Garbo and John Gilbert - Tinsel Town’s premier couple of the 1920’s – to form the basis of the story. Though whilst it must be accepted George does bare a passing resemblance to Gilbert, Preppy and Greta are as alike as chalk and cheese
Garbo and Gilbert, as every film buff knows, were the Brangelina of their day, although unlike today’s equivalent goodies who are ensconced in holy matrimony, the 1920’s pair made no secret of the fact that they were living in sin. Mind you Gilbert , to his credit, tried his darndest to tie the knot. But despite Greta getting two invites to two of her own weddings , the lady saw fit not to attend on both occasions – a couple of juicy breaches of promise there, I hear you musing.
Of the extracts I screened to the class, the one that got the most favourable response was Queen Christina (1933) dir: Reuben Mamoulian. Whilst Garbo & Gilbert had starred together in many highly successful silents, their transition to the talkies like George & Preppy’s in The Artist was a troubled affair. “Garbo Speaks”, the posters proclaimed and true to form the icon’s seductive Swedish lilt wooed American and World audiences alike. Gilbert on the other hand, seemed to struggle, as it was put about that he had a squeaky voice, and would never make the transition. In fact he had fallen fowl of the studios who wanted him out. Just as Preppy insisted on alcohol dependent George, being in her latest film , so Garbo sweet- talked Mamoulian into casting Gilbert in the story of a cross-dressing 17th century Swedish Queen, which was to be played by his erstwhile lover.
The film opens with Garbo being enthroned as the Queen of Sweden at the tender age of 6. We then cut to her in adult life, clonking around the court in boots, trousers and what could almost be mistaken for a cowboy hat. Her dissatisfaction is apparent, and she escapes by riding off into the snow to mingle with her people. She comes across the Spanish ambassador (Gilbert) stuck in the snow. and proceeds to organise his rescue in a work-man like manner. Then with a wave of that hat the incognito queen rides off and stops at an inn. The innkeeper addresses his guest as Sir and gives him the last remaining room. Clearly when Gilbert arrives, there is no room at the inn but the innkeeper manages to persuade the two gentlemen to share. Fearful of appearing unsporting and maybe revealing her dual disguise, Garbo reluctantly agrees. There then follows perhaps the most sensuous 25 minutes of celluloid ever to pass through a projector.
The year is 1933 and the infamous Hayes Code is about to be enforced. If the film had been made subsequently we would be looking at a very different product. Instead we have been bequeathed a source of wonderment and for that we are grateful to the feminist film critics who re-discovered it in the 1970’s.
To continue
Female Garbo is disguised not only as one of her subjects but also as a man. She finds herself about to share a one-bed -bedroom with another man (Gilbert) who finds her intriguingly attractive even though he perceives her to be a fellow chap - just like himself. The Hayes Code frowned not only on men & women sharing a bed, married or not, but also they would have thrown the book at any studio depicting two men slyly ensconced under the duvet. The way the scene is shot clearly reveals that the director had his roots in the silent period when stories were told visually and without the constant clatter of dialogue The film was a passion project for both the star and her confidante, the script writer Salka Viertel, who was privy to Garbo’s relationships with women and her dissatisfaction with the scripts Hollywood was giving their most successful leading lady.
The film that actually made it to the screen is somewhat different to what Garbo and Viertel had intended. Although elements of the true story of the monarch’s relationship with her lady-in-waiting can be detected through their looks and glances, most of it ended up on the cutting room floor. However the film is still a maelstrom of ambiguity that is a glory to behold. No cutsie little doggie to charm the audience. Just a very adult story of passion and sensuousness that has its roots four centuries ago in snow covered Sweden
