Country: USA
Released: September 5th, 1916
Genre: Drama, Historical Fiction
Directed by: D.W. Griffith
Produced by: D.W. Griffith
Written by: D.W. Griffith
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Intolerance: Love's Struggle Through the Ages follows four intolerant stories starring intolerant characters as they intolerantly explore intolerant themes intolerantly coalescing into one big intolerable intolerance intolerably.
Basically D.W Griffith really wants to make sure you understand his film is about intolerance, to the point that I'm shocked I haven't suffered a concussion from how hard he beats you over the head with it. Every other dialogue card narrating the story uses the word 'intolerant' at least once, and believe me it gets old fast.
It is also worth noting that he produced the film as a response to the outraged and 'intolerant' reaction to his previous film The Birth of a Nation.
That is not a joke.
Say what you will about the man, but self-aware he was not.
The story, in case you're wondering, follows four distinctive plots tied to each other by a thematic thread of, what else? Intolerance. Sort of like an equally pretentious 1910s version of Cloud Atlas, but whereas Cloud Atlas' thematic parallels between its disparate stories made sense, Intolerance really stretches the definition of 'Intolerance' to fit its self-proclaimed 'message.' So much so that I'm not sure Griffith totally understood what the word means.
The four stories in question are, in no particular order: the story of Jesus, from his miracle work to his crucifixion; the St. Barthalemeu Day massarce in which thousands of French Hugenots were slaughtered by Catholics; a romanticized representation of the fall of Babylon at the hand of Cyrus the Great; and lastly the story of a young working class couple as they struggle through strikes, imprisonment, organized crime, and prejudice.
Of these stories the latter two are easily the more important ones, as they take up the majority of the film. Hell the other two are so absent from the movie I would entirely forget about them and get surprised everytime they randomly croppted up. The Jesus story especially suffers from this and I genuinely wouldn't be surprised if it was added last minute to give the movie some religious theme or something.
The other two stories on the other hand are easily the stronger plots of the film.
The Babylon segment, my favourite of the two, follows a feisty young woman simply referred to as Mountain Girl (Constance Talmadge) as she's forced into marriage by her brother (Frank Browlnee) only to be saved by Prince Balthazar (Alfred Paget), who gives her a seal declaring she is free to marry, or not marry, who she chooses. Grateful for the Prince's kindness Mountain Girl becomes infatuated with him and secretly swears fealty to him, eventually fighting to protect the city from Cyrus and dying in the process.
Quick addendum, but why is Cyrus portrayed as some terrible conqueror while Babylon is some utopia-like center of culture and knowledge? The film alleges that the only reason the city fell was because evil priests betrayed the city in the ultimate act of '"intolerance." First of all Griffith, that's not intolerance, that's betrayal, there's a big difference. Second of all, Balthazar wasn't some beloved leader, he and his father Nabonidus were actually hated by most people for their suppression of the cult of Marduk (at least that's one interpretation). So why is Cyrus demonized? He wasn't any more brutal than anyone else at the time. In fact it's well recorded that he was very tolerant of other faiths. Now this normally wouldn't be a problem but the movie goes to great lengths to insist it is following historically accurate interpretation of the events, so what the fucks your beef with the guy?
But I'm getting off track. Despite its historical inaccuracies this portion of the movie is absolutely phenomenal. Seriously, I know I've said this a couple times before but the Babylonian portion of Intolerance is god-dammed amazing. Griffith built an entire city for this movie (it actually makes an appearance in the game L.A Noire) and filled it with thousands upon thousands of actors in what is probably one of the most epic examples of film making I've ever seen. And epic really is the right word; once Cyrus rolls around and the battle gets under way things go off the rails, with siege towers, chariots, battering rams, flame-throwing tanks (probably not historically accurate) and giant walls complete with battlements. Its an utter delight to watch Griffith take all these actors, each wearing beautifully elaborate costumes, and manage to carve out order from the chaos. The scope of the fight it totally mind-boggling and it's even more amazing when you learn that his budget was about 300,000 dollars.
Damn, it's almost enough to forgive him for Birth of a Nation. Well, not really...not even close, but credit where credit is due, the guy knows how to set up a battle.
I was also pleasantly surprised with the story. I was expecting Mountain Girl to end up getting married and the city to be saved or something to that effect. But to watch this strong female character conserve her independence and die defending the city as it burns around her was a dark and utterly refreshing ending that really threw me off guard. Kudos, movie.
The modern story meanwhile follows The Dear One (Mae Marsh), a young girl living near a factory where her father works. After the a strike is violently put down the workers are forced to move to the city, where her father (Fred Turner) dies shortly after. She marries The Boy (Robert Harron), an ex-worker from the same factory who lost his father in the riots and works for the mob. She convinces him to leave the gang who don't appreciate that one bit and frame him, sending him to prison only to later come out and... look the point is he's eventually framed a second time for murder leaving Dear One scrambling to find a way to save the father of her child from execution.
This story is the most complex of the film and it shows, occasionally becoming downright confusing with all the twists and turns it takes. Some scenes are actually completely pointless and have little to do with where the plot eventually ends up. Like why did we need the strike scene? I understand that you're trying to set up some kind of socio-economic disparity (or "intolerance" I guess), but it's conveyed just as easily afterwards when we see Dear One living in squalor.
Despite the needless complexities the final climax where Dear One rushes to the prison with a pardon from the Governor (Ralph Lewis) just as The Boy is being executed is thrilling and I honestly didn't know what was going to happen, which was a surprisingly pleasant feeling. I also greatly enjoyed The Boy's descent into crime and sin after his father's death and wish they had explored it a little longer.
Speaking of wishing things had lasted longer, by far my favourite scene of the whole film is the climax of the St. Bartholomew storyline when Prosper Latour (Eugene Pallette) is rushing through the carnage of the city to save his love, Brown Eyes (Margery Wilson). Watching him sprint through the city's streets avoiding the blood-lusted Catholic troops and forcing his way through fleeing crowds is heart pumping, and the discovery of his fiancee's body before being gunned down is tragic. Additionally the way it's edited to cut back and forth with Dear One's race to save her husband is one of the few examples of thematic mirroring in the film. It's also probably the only portrayal of actual intolerance. I only wish they gave more time to set it up. In fact, when things finally got going the Bartholomew story ended up being the most interesting part of the film, shame it was so brief.
Lastly I should also mention the use of visual story telling on display. Griffith experiments with staging and demonstrates the first instances of visual symbolism I've seen so far. Sometimes it's low-key and effective. Like when we're first shown the factory-owner's office it's completely bare save for a desk placed in the middle of this massive room. The emptiness of the room gives of sense of cold detachment while placing him in the center helps reinforce how isolated he is from the realities of his workers. It's a wonderfully set up visual that instantly convey's the character's role in the story.
Other times it's about as subtle as a brick to the face, like when Griffith sloppily superimposes a shadowy cross over Jesus. He's the son of god guys, we don't need help figuring out he has some sort of religious significance.
Over all though I liked this movie, which came as a pleasant surprise. I give it a thumbs up and recommend giving it a look. If nothing else Youtube that Babylonian battle sequence because holy shit is it awesome.
Released: September 5th, 1916
Genre: Drama, Historical Fiction
Directed by: D.W. Griffith
Produced by: D.W. Griffith
Written by: D.W. Griffith
Intolerance: Love's Struggle Through the Ages follows four intolerant stories starring intolerant characters as they intolerantly explore intolerant themes intolerantly coalescing into one big intolerable intolerance intolerably.
Basically D.W Griffith really wants to make sure you understand his film is about intolerance, to the point that I'm shocked I haven't suffered a concussion from how hard he beats you over the head with it. Every other dialogue card narrating the story uses the word 'intolerant' at least once, and believe me it gets old fast.
It is also worth noting that he produced the film as a response to the outraged and 'intolerant' reaction to his previous film The Birth of a Nation.
That is not a joke.
Say what you will about the man, but self-aware he was not.
The story, in case you're wondering, follows four distinctive plots tied to each other by a thematic thread of, what else? Intolerance. Sort of like an equally pretentious 1910s version of Cloud Atlas, but whereas Cloud Atlas' thematic parallels between its disparate stories made sense, Intolerance really stretches the definition of 'Intolerance' to fit its self-proclaimed 'message.' So much so that I'm not sure Griffith totally understood what the word means.
The four stories in question are, in no particular order: the story of Jesus, from his miracle work to his crucifixion; the St. Barthalemeu Day massarce in which thousands of French Hugenots were slaughtered by Catholics; a romanticized representation of the fall of Babylon at the hand of Cyrus the Great; and lastly the story of a young working class couple as they struggle through strikes, imprisonment, organized crime, and prejudice.
Of these stories the latter two are easily the more important ones, as they take up the majority of the film. Hell the other two are so absent from the movie I would entirely forget about them and get surprised everytime they randomly croppted up. The Jesus story especially suffers from this and I genuinely wouldn't be surprised if it was added last minute to give the movie some religious theme or something.
The other two stories on the other hand are easily the stronger plots of the film.
The Babylon segment, my favourite of the two, follows a feisty young woman simply referred to as Mountain Girl (Constance Talmadge) as she's forced into marriage by her brother (Frank Browlnee) only to be saved by Prince Balthazar (Alfred Paget), who gives her a seal declaring she is free to marry, or not marry, who she chooses. Grateful for the Prince's kindness Mountain Girl becomes infatuated with him and secretly swears fealty to him, eventually fighting to protect the city from Cyrus and dying in the process.
Quick addendum, but why is Cyrus portrayed as some terrible conqueror while Babylon is some utopia-like center of culture and knowledge? The film alleges that the only reason the city fell was because evil priests betrayed the city in the ultimate act of '"intolerance." First of all Griffith, that's not intolerance, that's betrayal, there's a big difference. Second of all, Balthazar wasn't some beloved leader, he and his father Nabonidus were actually hated by most people for their suppression of the cult of Marduk (at least that's one interpretation). So why is Cyrus demonized? He wasn't any more brutal than anyone else at the time. In fact it's well recorded that he was very tolerant of other faiths. Now this normally wouldn't be a problem but the movie goes to great lengths to insist it is following historically accurate interpretation of the events, so what the fucks your beef with the guy?
But I'm getting off track. Despite its historical inaccuracies this portion of the movie is absolutely phenomenal. Seriously, I know I've said this a couple times before but the Babylonian portion of Intolerance is god-dammed amazing. Griffith built an entire city for this movie (it actually makes an appearance in the game L.A Noire) and filled it with thousands upon thousands of actors in what is probably one of the most epic examples of film making I've ever seen. And epic really is the right word; once Cyrus rolls around and the battle gets under way things go off the rails, with siege towers, chariots, battering rams, flame-throwing tanks (probably not historically accurate) and giant walls complete with battlements. Its an utter delight to watch Griffith take all these actors, each wearing beautifully elaborate costumes, and manage to carve out order from the chaos. The scope of the fight it totally mind-boggling and it's even more amazing when you learn that his budget was about 300,000 dollars.
Damn, it's almost enough to forgive him for Birth of a Nation. Well, not really...not even close, but credit where credit is due, the guy knows how to set up a battle.
I was also pleasantly surprised with the story. I was expecting Mountain Girl to end up getting married and the city to be saved or something to that effect. But to watch this strong female character conserve her independence and die defending the city as it burns around her was a dark and utterly refreshing ending that really threw me off guard. Kudos, movie.
The modern story meanwhile follows The Dear One (Mae Marsh), a young girl living near a factory where her father works. After the a strike is violently put down the workers are forced to move to the city, where her father (Fred Turner) dies shortly after. She marries The Boy (Robert Harron), an ex-worker from the same factory who lost his father in the riots and works for the mob. She convinces him to leave the gang who don't appreciate that one bit and frame him, sending him to prison only to later come out and... look the point is he's eventually framed a second time for murder leaving Dear One scrambling to find a way to save the father of her child from execution.
This story is the most complex of the film and it shows, occasionally becoming downright confusing with all the twists and turns it takes. Some scenes are actually completely pointless and have little to do with where the plot eventually ends up. Like why did we need the strike scene? I understand that you're trying to set up some kind of socio-economic disparity (or "intolerance" I guess), but it's conveyed just as easily afterwards when we see Dear One living in squalor.
Despite the needless complexities the final climax where Dear One rushes to the prison with a pardon from the Governor (Ralph Lewis) just as The Boy is being executed is thrilling and I honestly didn't know what was going to happen, which was a surprisingly pleasant feeling. I also greatly enjoyed The Boy's descent into crime and sin after his father's death and wish they had explored it a little longer.
Speaking of wishing things had lasted longer, by far my favourite scene of the whole film is the climax of the St. Bartholomew storyline when Prosper Latour (Eugene Pallette) is rushing through the carnage of the city to save his love, Brown Eyes (Margery Wilson). Watching him sprint through the city's streets avoiding the blood-lusted Catholic troops and forcing his way through fleeing crowds is heart pumping, and the discovery of his fiancee's body before being gunned down is tragic. Additionally the way it's edited to cut back and forth with Dear One's race to save her husband is one of the few examples of thematic mirroring in the film. It's also probably the only portrayal of actual intolerance. I only wish they gave more time to set it up. In fact, when things finally got going the Bartholomew story ended up being the most interesting part of the film, shame it was so brief.
Lastly I should also mention the use of visual story telling on display. Griffith experiments with staging and demonstrates the first instances of visual symbolism I've seen so far. Sometimes it's low-key and effective. Like when we're first shown the factory-owner's office it's completely bare save for a desk placed in the middle of this massive room. The emptiness of the room gives of sense of cold detachment while placing him in the center helps reinforce how isolated he is from the realities of his workers. It's a wonderfully set up visual that instantly convey's the character's role in the story.
Other times it's about as subtle as a brick to the face, like when Griffith sloppily superimposes a shadowy cross over Jesus. He's the son of god guys, we don't need help figuring out he has some sort of religious significance.
Over all though I liked this movie, which came as a pleasant surprise. I give it a thumbs up and recommend giving it a look. If nothing else Youtube that Babylonian battle sequence because holy shit is it awesome.
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