Nowadays, it beggars belief that a mere two fragments amounting to less than two minutes of this film survive. Perhaps someone, somewhere, has a dusty film can stored in an out-building on the Paramount lot? As it is, what we still have illustrates a soupçon of the talents of the Oscar winning Jannings and of a violinist he watches from the seats of a theatre in this tale of a man who suffers hard times after falling victim to a gal and a crook depriving him of his job, his family and his dignity. It is a good story, and I really do hope someone turns up a copy one day if only for the benefit cinema posterity.
Review of The Way of All Flesh
