The Last Command (1928)
The Last Command (1928), directed by Josef von Sternberg.
The framing story opens in Hollywood. A director, surrounded by his flunkies, is flipping through photos looking for a Russian face. He stops at an older bearded man. On the back of the photo: "Claims to have been a general for the Czar".
With steely intensity: "Call him in. Give him a general's uniform".
The old man appears with a mob of extras the next day. He is quiet and infirm, with a head tremor. He has brought his own medal, which he claims was given to him by the Czar.
Flash back to just a few years earlier in Russia. The man really is a general, hearty and vigorous, cousin to the Czar and head of his armies. We see the director again, now an actor and revolutionary. In an interview the general whips the man and sends him to prison, but keeps his lady friend, also a revolutionary.
She fits into his entourage, but is torn in her loyalties. She should kill him, but face to face violence is different than revolutionary theory.
The Revolution is unstoppable and the General is seized by the mob. How can he survive?
Back to Hollywood, ten years later. The director is making a film about the Revolution and has found both his now beaten down General, and an opportunity for revenge.
A remarkable tale told in an efficient 85 minutes. The craft of the late silent period continues to amaze me. Norma Desmond was right in Sunset Blvd. (1950): "We didn't need words, we had faces then". All the leads communicate so much with such slight changes of expression, their quiet movements and postures.
Our leads:
Emil Jannings: Won the very first Academy Award for Best Actor for this role and The Way of All Flesh (1927). He shows a wide range: meek trembling extra, arrogant aristocrat, then a comeback as the old lion who has been pushed too far.
He continued to make films for the nazis and had no career after 1945.
Evelyn Brent: Prolific in both silent and sound films. Most of her silents are lost.
William Powell: This is the first time I have seen him in a silent film. He's most familiar as a witty and debonair gentlemen, but here he is darker, intent on revenge once the tables are turned.
Notes:
The train models are particularly good this time. Obviously models but you appreciate the craftsmanship.
A funny bit: in Russia the soldiers stand at attention for the General. In Hollywood the extras, dressed as soldiers, stand at attention for the Assistant Director.
In mature storytelling we no longer have good guys and villains. The Russian nobility are grand but abusive. The revolutionaries have their reasons but unleash a mob they can scarcely control.
And consider our director: his revolution has succeeded but he is not living in the workers paradise. No: he's living it up in Hollywood, surrounded by subservient yes-men.
Photographed by Bert Glennon.
Available on DVD from Criterion. Silent film, fairly soft image, some source damage.
Two new sound tracks: Robert Israel and the Alloy Orchestra.
