I have long doubted that the silent cinema was ever really a mature dramatic medium in it own right. To me, it has always seemed like a transitional phase that was was inevitably destined to evolve into the 'talkie'. This 1920 movie merely confirms how quickly this started to become apparent.
This version of Jeckyll and Hyde is one of the best adaptations of Stevenson's book. Because it predates the Hays Office it could be much more open and honest about Jeckyll's motives than either the 1931 or 1940 versions (which both have their merits). It is also more effective in documenting Jeckyll's gradual slide into 'addiction'.
Barrymore's Hyde is the most creepily depraved I have yet seen. His first 'in camera' transformation is rightly applauded as a tour de force, despite some histrionics that might raise a few snickers amongst contemporary audiences unfamiliar with the acting conventions of earlier times.
There is much to admire and enjoy in this picture, which has been well documented in other reviews on this site, and I can only regret that it no longer seems to be available in a print that does it justice.
However, I cannot help noting that this movie would have been impossible to follow without the liberal use of title cards. I counted 27 in the first 15 minutes. That means that 30 - 40% of the initial running time is taken up with reading rather than viewing.
Once the basic situation has been set up and explained, the title cards become noticeably less frequent but, even so, all the major evolutions of the plot are announced rather than dramatised. Even when the movie uses some effective spider imagery to depict Hyde's increasing hold over Jeckyll, the symbolism would have been incomprehensible without the preceding title card.
Was this a failure of the movie or a failure of the medium?
To those people who would still try to convince me that silent cinema had developed a fully-fledged visual language of its own I would only say: "show me how this story could have been told effectively without all those title cards?"
To date, there has been no reply.
This version of Jeckyll and Hyde is one of the best adaptations of Stevenson's book. Because it predates the Hays Office it could be much more open and honest about Jeckyll's motives than either the 1931 or 1940 versions (which both have their merits). It is also more effective in documenting Jeckyll's gradual slide into 'addiction'.
Barrymore's Hyde is the most creepily depraved I have yet seen. His first 'in camera' transformation is rightly applauded as a tour de force, despite some histrionics that might raise a few snickers amongst contemporary audiences unfamiliar with the acting conventions of earlier times.
There is much to admire and enjoy in this picture, which has been well documented in other reviews on this site, and I can only regret that it no longer seems to be available in a print that does it justice.
However, I cannot help noting that this movie would have been impossible to follow without the liberal use of title cards. I counted 27 in the first 15 minutes. That means that 30 - 40% of the initial running time is taken up with reading rather than viewing.
Once the basic situation has been set up and explained, the title cards become noticeably less frequent but, even so, all the major evolutions of the plot are announced rather than dramatised. Even when the movie uses some effective spider imagery to depict Hyde's increasing hold over Jeckyll, the symbolism would have been incomprehensible without the preceding title card.
Was this a failure of the movie or a failure of the medium?
To those people who would still try to convince me that silent cinema had developed a fully-fledged visual language of its own I would only say: "show me how this story could have been told effectively without all those title cards?"
To date, there has been no reply.