Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed/The Adventures of Prince Achmed (1926)

Country: Germany

Released: February, 1926

Genre: Fantasy

Director: Lotte Reiniger

Producer: Lotte Reiniger

Writer: N/A

A few days ago I was grabbing coffee with a friend of mine. He's a fellow movie buff, and we had just walked out of Shane Black's The Nice Guys. We were naturally talking about a recent film or TV show or some such, and I recommended Venture Bros, which is a personal favourite of mine. That's when he confessed that he just couldn't get into TV sitcoms or comedies if there wasn't a laugh-track. I found this quite surprising. Most people these days tend to say the opposite, finding laugh-tracks too cheesy or distracting or manipulative, but my friend was professing that without a laugh-track he just couldn't get into it. I asked why that was and he just shrugged and said it's what he grew-up with. That gave me pause because I started thinking of my own childhood and what I grew up with. I realized that the only shows I ever watched when I was a kid were cartoons, and that even today animation is still by far my favourite medium of story-telling. Is there some kind of connection?

I can't rightly say, just like I can't really pinpoint what it is about animation that holds so much appeal to me today. Perhaps it is the limitless possibility that it offers? Thanks to modern CGI directors of live-action films almost have the universe at their fingertips, but they're not quite there yet; one overly digital explosion, one lazy effects company, and slashed budget and the illusion can tumble. Animation does not suffer from that problem. It invites us to enter a world of it's own creation, so when things don't quite follow our rules it doesn't matter. It's the ultimate source of escapism.

I'm deeply defensive of animation. Much to my chagrin it is still regarded by most as an inferior art-form, probably most due to it's association with children's entertainment, which absolutely infuriates me. I remember one occasion where I was discussing animation with another close-friend of mine who argued that it's lack of emotional subtlety made it incapable of tackling nuance as effectively as live-action. I vehemently opposed this, not from any factual basis but as a knee-jerk reaction to defend my precious cartoons. In retrospect however I see that she is right in the sense that it's emotions are far more overt. However rather than limit the medium I would now argue that that is a boon in it's favour. By offering such overt expressiveness in characters it allows the emotional subtly to rest on it's themes. I suppose that's what draws me into animation: it's utter control.

With all this in mind it's no real surprise that I was really looking forward to Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed. As the oldest surviving animated feature, and one that adopts such a unique style, I was virtually counting down the films to it. This therefor begs the question, was it worth the wait?

Unfortunately not really.

The film's plot is simple enough: An evil sorcerer wants to marry the daughter of the caliph. To do so he tries trading the princess for a flying horse. When the caliph's son, Prince Achmed protests this the sorcerer seats him on the magic horse and sends him far away to distant lands. There Achmed enjoys a series of adventures, meeting a list of colourful side characters including Aladdin, a mountain witch, the emperor of China, and a love-interest. The film concludes with Achmed and Aladdin (who also loves the princess) defeating the sorcerer, saving Achmed's love-interest from demons, and all the good guys getting married.

As far as plots go it's pretty simple, but that's to be expected. The story is a fairytale, designed to be nothing more than a vehicle for cool set-pieces. A movie like this lives and dies on good animation, and Prinzen Achmed certainly boasts that. The film is essentially one long shadow puppet show. It makes sense that one of the earliest animated films be composed by shadow puppets seeing as how it's one of humanity's earliest story telling techniques, and it translates to film very effectively. The landscape and character designs are imaginative, while the creative use of lighting and smoke for more mystical effects couples well with the silhouettes to lend the film a very unique, very beautiful look. Unfortunately it is not so effective as to carry the whole runtime; even at only sixty minutes the film drags on a bit, to the point where I found myself nodding off on occasion. In all fairness I watched the movie just after a large lunch on a hot summer day and my Spanish genes were screaming at me to take a siesta.

Regardless though my attention span did not withstand the length, and boredom began creeping in slowly around act three. While each individual set-piece is gorgeous and full of whimsy, the jerky motions of the characters did no offer enough fluidity to keep in imagery interesting for long periods of time. Taken on their own each act is stunningly composed painting in motion worthy of admiration. As a whole however the narrative does not survive it's pacing. The filmmakers most likely realized this, hence the shorter run time. Regardless, even sixty minutes proves a bit long.

Despite this Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed's style still offers something beautiful and wholly unique. So I'd still recommend to google clips of the movie or watch it in chunks, because it really is something to behold, even if it's appeal eventual runs thin.

The Big Parade (1925)

Country: USA

Released: November 5th, 1925

Genre: War

Director: King Vidor

Producer: Irving Thalberg

Writer: Harry Behn

There’s something undeniably compelling about the First World War. Few wars invite so much derision, melancholy, and above all criticism as The Great War. Even the Second World War, which eclipses its predecessor in scale, brutality, and loss of life isn’t regarded with nearly as much contempt or regret. Perhaps it's motives distinguishes it? World War Two was characterized by the constructed narrative of good versus evil that, thanks to the senseless racial policies of the Nazis, persists to this day. It was a noble war, at least so we’re told.

Yet it’s curious that no one really brings up the senselessness of the Nazis and their campaign like they do for The Great War. People seem to take the Nazi’s existence and their consequences with disconcerting matter-of-factness. Perhaps it is because they are for the West evil incarnate and evil is so rarely questioned. The duality of morality inherent in many religions, and particularly Abrahamic religions, takes the presence of evil in the world as an incontestable reality. Evil cannot be questioned it just is, and what it is is an opposition of 'good.' Good versus evil is such an inherent idea that few ever stop to really question it. That’s why when we formulate a conflict like World War Two as good versus evil it is often remembered as a ‘job.’ “We had a job to do, and we did it” is the attitude held by many veterans, particularly American ones, who fought in that awesome conflict.

The First World War lacks that luxury. It did not have the clear-cut morals or the sheer lunacy in belligerence of its sequel. It was very much sterile in the politics that underlay it. That is why it feels so pointless and thus so tragic ‘Waste’ is the word that comes to mind, and this waste is what makes it fodder for anti-war sentiments. Want to make a movie about the grim yet unshakable human spirit or of the glory of combat? Show the raising of the American Flag over Iwo Jima or troops standing over the mechanized wonder of Operation Overlord. You want to show the suffering and futility of war? Film guys hopping over trenches at Verdun or slogging through muck in the Somme.

This latter interpretation is the aesthetic presented to us in King Vidor’s The Big Parade, the story of a young American soldier named Jim (John Gilbert) who travels oversees in search of glory only to find death and suffering.

Well, that’s being a little disingenuous. While certainly ruminating on the themes I’ve brought up the film is nowhere near as morose as my introduction would make it seem. In truth the first half of the movie is surprisingly light-hearted, following a love story between Jim and a local French girl named Melisande (Renée Adorée). I was pleasantly surprised by how invested I became in their relationship. This is probably due to the fact that the both Adorée and Gilbert have crazy good chemistry but that’s not too surprising. It’s John freaking Gilbert after all. The man’s nickname was “The Great Lover” for god’s sakes. I mean, just look at the guy.

That is the grin of a guy who know's you know he's the sexiest man in the room.

Just as a brief aside as heartless as Hollywood may seem today (and rightfully so with scandals of pedophilia, rape, and overt racism still prevalent) it’s easy to forget that it’s nowhere near as ruthless as it once was. The number of superstars I’ve seen so far who’s Wikipedia pages end in tragedy, usually brought on by depression or alcoholism, is kind of shocking. Gilbert sadly is no exception.

Anyways back to the love story. Another factor to its success is the pacing. While most films of this period take the oh-so tiring ‘he’s a guy, she’s a gal, they’re in love’ approach to establishing relationships The Big Parade really takes it’s time to show them interact and flirt with one another. At first it doesn’t work out well. Jim, like a total freaking putz, decided to put the moves on Melisande by calling her a frog.

Smooth.

Yet it’s hiccups like this that makes their relationship feel real. Because it grows organically we can become far more invested in it. Also I must say it is refreshing that they actually make the French girl speak French, and through intertitles no less! Seriously, one of my biggest pet peeves in film and television is when foreign characters speak to one another in accented English (I’m looking at you, The Man in the High Castle). How is it that a movie from the twenties, with no sound can get it right but studios today can’t be bothered?

As mentioned the love-story constitutes only the first half of the film. What follows is the carnage we’re all waiting for, as Jim and his pals are loaded up onto trucks and sent to the front. At first the fighting seems a little off, with a slow, somewhat subdued approach that comes across as puzzling more than anything else. Once they arrive to the shell-torn trenches however utter bedlam ensues. The final assault in particular is a sight to behold, with dozens and dozens of extras moving through a barrage of shells and exploding sets. It’s a spectacle that reminds one the boon of practical effects, and the visceral destruction they can evoke. It is also at this point that the movie becomes something special. Prior to combat everything felt ‘light.’ Simple angles, settings, and music highlighted the jovial adventures of the soldiers as they mill about a French village. Yet by portraying such a pleasant tone the eventual brutality of the battles become all the more effective. The warm, pastoral villages where soldiers and locals romp feel all the more distant when presented with apocalyptic battlefields or large, cold, cathedral-like hospitals where the wounded are left for dead. It's a narrative structure that at once feels both effective and timeless, and one can really see the influences it played on subsequent war films like All Quiet on the Western Front.

It’s strange to think of the production that may have gone into this movie. The Big Parade came out a mere seven years after the end of the conflict. There must have been veterans on set who served in the conflict in some capacity. What was going through their heads as they watched extras march through fake battle scenes? Hell I'm sure some of the extras saw combat, what was going through their heads when they were forced to don trench-coats and brodies.

In any case Jim eventually returns home alive, traumatized and having lost a leg, which I found to be refreshingly dark. So many stories cop-out of any meaningful consequences (this time I’m looking at you, Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood) and it’s nice too see a story that doesn’t shy away from them. Yet rather than end on a dower note as one would expect The Big Parade smartly opts for a happy ending, with Jim and Melisande reuniting. One could make the argument that this undercuts the film's criticisms of the war but I very much liked the choice. Watching Jim and Melisandre embrace one another actually got me to choke up a little because it felt truly earned.

Lastly it would be an absolute crime if I didn’t mention the music. The score was not part of the original cut but was composed in 1931 by William Axt and recomposed by Carl Davis in the eighties, which is a huge shame for those that saw the original release because the music is damn-near magical. Seriously, it’s straight-up phenomenal. Without it I think I can safety say that the film wouldn’t be half as good. From the booming drums of the battle sequences to the dulcet melodies of Jim and Melisande’s love story the score truly runs the gambit of emotion. If you plan on seeing it definitely track down Davis’ version, you won’t regret it.

In short The Big Parade is a damn fine film. From its tight storytelling to it’s mature themes and messages, The Big Parade earns it’s spot on this list.