Oh, silent movies. Narratives are divided into discrete scenes (owing at least partly to the use of intertitles), and the technology and productions at large are relatively simple. Acting was often characterized by exaggerated facial expressions and body language, both carried over from the stage and to some degree necessitated by the lack of sound and verbal dialogue. All this serves to inculcate in some measure an air of artificiality that's furthered by those more recent titles (e.g. 2022's 'Babylon,' or the Coen brothers' 'Hail, Caesar!') that largely explore the industry, and I can understand why some modern viewers have a harder time engaging with older features. And still, the silent era was a magical time in the history of cinema that the medium has a very hard time recapturing, and those same qualities that may limit engagement are nonetheless part of the special whimsy. At least in retrospect it often seems easier to willfully dispense with or again take in hand suspension of disbelief to simultaneously admire the wonderful craftsmanship of a title from behind the scenes, and indulge in the fabulous story being told. One has a harder time doing this with the major complexity of twenty-first century fare like Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the rings' adaptations. Rex Ingram's rousing 1923 spectacle 'Scaramouche' was a fine example of this duality - and Frank Lloyd's 'The Sea Hawk' is another. This is a grand, highly entertaining extravaganza that by the standards of 1920 was an enormous affair, and I'm so tremendously pleased that it continues to stand tall in ways that even many pictures to follow in the entire past century sometimes struggle to achieve.
What here is not to love? We're presented with an epic, stirring tale of love, betrayal, and vengeance, shady dealings and huge battles, quiet thoughtfulness and bombastic splendor, and a great host of extras to help bring it all to life. The production design, art direction, and indeed costume design are plainly elaborate and truly magnificent, a real treat as a viewer, and smaller details like hair, makeup, props, and weapons are a scant half-step behind. All the many stunts, effects, and action sequences that are employed are a welcome, awe-inspiring marvel, surely on par with anything Hollywood has given us in the past several decades and if anything only beholden to different standards of the time. From the credited stars all the way down the line to extras who might only be seen in passing, every single person in the cast gives vibrant, wholehearted performances of vigor, ardor, and total earnestness, a delight to witness. The filming locations are gorgeous, the intertitles themselves are rendered with beautiful illustrations, and Norbert F. Brodin's dynamic, mindful cinematography takes in all the slightest minutiae of every vision before us. And in his double role as producer and director, Lloyd effectively had carte blanche to make exactly the movie he wanted, how and as he wanted - and he succeeded with flying colors. He orchestrates shots and scenes, and guides his gargantuan cast, with a flair for the grandiose, sensational, and dramatic, and an undeniably expert hand: making utmost use of all the resources at his disposal, and ensuring 'The Sea Hawk' was the biggest and best that it could be. And it absolutely was, to the point that it's still a captivating classic 99 years on.
Two hours pass incredibly quickly, and frankly too much so. I don't mean to say that the feature is light on narrative (far, far from it), or too briskly paced (it's just right, as a matter of fact) - but rather, it's a tale so rich and absorbing that one only wishes it were far longer, at least twice its extant length, so that we could soak in the grandeur all the more. If there are any criticisms to meaningfully be leveled here, it's simply an unfortunate tinge of indelicacy in how the film approaches a culture, and a religion, outside the predominant British-American purview. There are stereotypes on hand, or at least a sense of othering, and this is not helped by casting white actors as characters who ostensibly hail from Spain, and North Africa, and applying brownface to them. This is not a fault exclusive to this movie, of course - it is one example among many from the silent era, and the sound era heading even into the 1960s and beyond (see: 'Lawrence of Arabia'), and the industry still has troubles in other ways with casting actors in roles that are not theirs to have (e.g. Hollywood's live-action 'Ghost in the shell,' or 'The Danish girl'). Nor does that excuse Lloyd and the industry of the 1920s from these same foibles. However, with that said, I don't think 'The Sea Hawk' is necessarily as awful with such follies as other titles have been, and just as much to the point, I don't believe it's an issue that severely detracts from the fantastic, immensely enjoyable reverie the feature otherwise represents. This is just about as epic as epics could get in the earliest years of cinema, a stupendous, engrossing journey the likes of which have been relatively few in all the long years of the medium. And it's so, so very well done.
Once more, I can understand how the silent era doesn't hold appeal for all comers; I'd have said the same of myself at one time. Yet some of the best movies ever made come from that period before audio technology was developed, movies from the likes of Buster Keaton, F. W. Murnau, Victor Sjöström, and more. Such movies of so high a quality transcend any limits one might decree, I feel - and then there are those like 'The Sea Hawk' that, despite differences in their fundamental construction, are just as unremittingly exciting, and downright thrilling, as any pictures to follow in the years to come. So excellent is this in its telling of adventure and drama, especially with such outstanding seafaring battle sequences, that I rather feel it might even serve as a gateway to early cinema for those viewers who commonly have a hard time abiding it. Yes, I quite expected I would enjoy this, as I already very much love silent features, but still I'm deeply pleased at how terrific the end result is here. Lloyd, his cast, his crew, and all others involved have assembled an exquisite, rousing exhibition of boundless skilled craftsmanship, and its luster hasn't dulled one bit in all this time. That it shows its age with traits shared by other features is regrettable, yet is not so dire a matter as to substantially quash one's experience. When all is said and done I don't know what else to say - 'The Sea Hawk' is a brilliant, riveting saga, a classic picture that continues to enchant, and is well worth seeking out however one must go about it. Bravo!
What here is not to love? We're presented with an epic, stirring tale of love, betrayal, and vengeance, shady dealings and huge battles, quiet thoughtfulness and bombastic splendor, and a great host of extras to help bring it all to life. The production design, art direction, and indeed costume design are plainly elaborate and truly magnificent, a real treat as a viewer, and smaller details like hair, makeup, props, and weapons are a scant half-step behind. All the many stunts, effects, and action sequences that are employed are a welcome, awe-inspiring marvel, surely on par with anything Hollywood has given us in the past several decades and if anything only beholden to different standards of the time. From the credited stars all the way down the line to extras who might only be seen in passing, every single person in the cast gives vibrant, wholehearted performances of vigor, ardor, and total earnestness, a delight to witness. The filming locations are gorgeous, the intertitles themselves are rendered with beautiful illustrations, and Norbert F. Brodin's dynamic, mindful cinematography takes in all the slightest minutiae of every vision before us. And in his double role as producer and director, Lloyd effectively had carte blanche to make exactly the movie he wanted, how and as he wanted - and he succeeded with flying colors. He orchestrates shots and scenes, and guides his gargantuan cast, with a flair for the grandiose, sensational, and dramatic, and an undeniably expert hand: making utmost use of all the resources at his disposal, and ensuring 'The Sea Hawk' was the biggest and best that it could be. And it absolutely was, to the point that it's still a captivating classic 99 years on.
Two hours pass incredibly quickly, and frankly too much so. I don't mean to say that the feature is light on narrative (far, far from it), or too briskly paced (it's just right, as a matter of fact) - but rather, it's a tale so rich and absorbing that one only wishes it were far longer, at least twice its extant length, so that we could soak in the grandeur all the more. If there are any criticisms to meaningfully be leveled here, it's simply an unfortunate tinge of indelicacy in how the film approaches a culture, and a religion, outside the predominant British-American purview. There are stereotypes on hand, or at least a sense of othering, and this is not helped by casting white actors as characters who ostensibly hail from Spain, and North Africa, and applying brownface to them. This is not a fault exclusive to this movie, of course - it is one example among many from the silent era, and the sound era heading even into the 1960s and beyond (see: 'Lawrence of Arabia'), and the industry still has troubles in other ways with casting actors in roles that are not theirs to have (e.g. Hollywood's live-action 'Ghost in the shell,' or 'The Danish girl'). Nor does that excuse Lloyd and the industry of the 1920s from these same foibles. However, with that said, I don't think 'The Sea Hawk' is necessarily as awful with such follies as other titles have been, and just as much to the point, I don't believe it's an issue that severely detracts from the fantastic, immensely enjoyable reverie the feature otherwise represents. This is just about as epic as epics could get in the earliest years of cinema, a stupendous, engrossing journey the likes of which have been relatively few in all the long years of the medium. And it's so, so very well done.
Once more, I can understand how the silent era doesn't hold appeal for all comers; I'd have said the same of myself at one time. Yet some of the best movies ever made come from that period before audio technology was developed, movies from the likes of Buster Keaton, F. W. Murnau, Victor Sjöström, and more. Such movies of so high a quality transcend any limits one might decree, I feel - and then there are those like 'The Sea Hawk' that, despite differences in their fundamental construction, are just as unremittingly exciting, and downright thrilling, as any pictures to follow in the years to come. So excellent is this in its telling of adventure and drama, especially with such outstanding seafaring battle sequences, that I rather feel it might even serve as a gateway to early cinema for those viewers who commonly have a hard time abiding it. Yes, I quite expected I would enjoy this, as I already very much love silent features, but still I'm deeply pleased at how terrific the end result is here. Lloyd, his cast, his crew, and all others involved have assembled an exquisite, rousing exhibition of boundless skilled craftsmanship, and its luster hasn't dulled one bit in all this time. That it shows its age with traits shared by other features is regrettable, yet is not so dire a matter as to substantially quash one's experience. When all is said and done I don't know what else to say - 'The Sea Hawk' is a brilliant, riveting saga, a classic picture that continues to enchant, and is well worth seeking out however one must go about it. Bravo!