(1925)
Dir - Harry O. Hoyt
Overall: MEH
A historically important Hollywood spectacle from the silent era, The Lost World was the first full-length film to utilize stop-motion animation, which set the course for King Kong eight years later as well as several other movies that utilized such special effects to depict over-sized monsters doing over-sized monster things. Based off of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1912 novel of the same name, the author himself appears on screen to introduce a tale that would be told in variations for decades to come. Doyle's Professor Challenger character ventures into the Amazon to prove the existence of prehistoric beasts roaming freely there, eventually ending up back in London with a Brontosaurus to silence the haters. Special effects man Willis O'Brien would later and even more famously work on King Kong, and while the creature design and execution here is primitive by later standards, (plus we get some actors in primate costumes, for what it is worth), this was impressive for its time and holds up well enough as a curiosity. Sadly, the rudimentary story cannot withstand the long stretches where dinosaurs are not duking it out with each other, plus Wallace Beery is the only actor here who exudes any sense of charisma as the fearless adventurer/ridiculously-bearded Challenger.
(1926)
Dir - James Young
Overall: GOOD
Notable for being one of the few surviving silent films to contain a billed performance from Boris Karloff, The Bells is an adaptation of the original French stage play Le Juif Polonais, as well as its English translated version which had both been brought to the screen four times before. Featuring heavyweight Lionel Barrymore in the lead, it features a familiar variant of psychological guilt manifesting itself as the supernatural, this time concerning Barrymore's newly-appointed burgomaster who murdered a Jewish traveler in order to steal his gold so that he could repay a debt, allow his daughter to marry the man of her choosing, and to further his own political ambitions. Barrymore's doomed character is painted in a sympathetic light since he resulted to violence out of alcohol-infused desperation, plus he is also immediately tormented by "the bells" that his victim rattled at the time of death. Karloff's role is small yet significant as he dons a garb and persona that is deliberately close to Werner Krauss's in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, playing an intimidating hypnotist that boasts of being able to get any criminal to confess their secrets. Speaking of Caligari, director James Young and cinematographer L. William O'Connell indulge in some German Expressionism here or there, making this a striking enough Hollywood alternative to the usual type of Edgar Allan Poe-styled, conscience-ravished melodrama.
Overall: GOOD
Notable for being one of the few surviving silent films to contain a billed performance from Boris Karloff, The Bells is an adaptation of the original French stage play Le Juif Polonais, as well as its English translated version which had both been brought to the screen four times before. Featuring heavyweight Lionel Barrymore in the lead, it features a familiar variant of psychological guilt manifesting itself as the supernatural, this time concerning Barrymore's newly-appointed burgomaster who murdered a Jewish traveler in order to steal his gold so that he could repay a debt, allow his daughter to marry the man of her choosing, and to further his own political ambitions. Barrymore's doomed character is painted in a sympathetic light since he resulted to violence out of alcohol-infused desperation, plus he is also immediately tormented by "the bells" that his victim rattled at the time of death. Karloff's role is small yet significant as he dons a garb and persona that is deliberately close to Werner Krauss's in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, playing an intimidating hypnotist that boasts of being able to get any criminal to confess their secrets. Speaking of Caligari, director James Young and cinematographer L. William O'Connell indulge in some German Expressionism here or there, making this a striking enough Hollywood alternative to the usual type of Edgar Allan Poe-styled, conscience-ravished melodrama.
(1929)
Dir - Tod Browning
Overall: MEH
Initially released in both sound and silent versions, The Thirteenth Chair was the first of three films that director Tod Browning and actor Béla Lugosi made together. As was the case with other early whodunits from the era, it was based on a stage play, namely Bayard Veiller's of the same name which was brought to the screen two other times as well. Besides Lugosi's involvement in the story's meatiest role as the famed inspector that arrives on the scene in order to crack the mystery, this is formulaic and talky stuff that is handled with no flare from behind the lens by Browning. The only moment that comes close to being visually enticing is when Margaret Wycherly's Irish medium, (reprising her stage role), insists on the lights being turned off during a phony seance, a seance which results in yet another murder after the one that she was already brought in to help solve. This happens again during the finale when the culprit is at last revealed, but the plot is equally convoluted and sterile. It is nothing more than competent actors melodramatically talking on some fancy-decorated sets, with no action, no atmosphere, and little humor. Still, Lugosi fans would be wise to check it out since he goes hard in a dialog-heavy performance that represents one of his precious few before he was typecast in horror throughout the rest of his career.
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