BY THE NUMBERS: FAVORITE DIRECTORS OF THE 1920S

The New Babylon is a metaphorical clash of glittering surfaces and deep social cynicism that marked the climax of Grigori Kozintsev and Leonid Trauberg's experimentations with the conventions of the Soviet silent cinema. Taking their thematic inspiration from the story of the Paris Commune of 1871, the two directors fashioned a highly conceptualized allegory of social strata under pressure that transcends its historical roots to form a sardonic comment on the human condition.
The music, by Dimitry Shostakovitch, is also integral to the film's narrative structure. Normally in film, the music serves to compliment or amplify the visual image. The relationship is one of conjunction. In The New Babylon, however, Shostakovitch creates a relationship through the opposition of sound and image. In the music hall scene, for example, the composer interfaces components of the "can-can" and the "Marseillaise" with the vulgar spectacle of the pageant to form a musical comment on the French middle class.
Although the avant-garde aspects of The New Babylon caused it to fall somewhat in disfavor during the regime of Josef Stalin, it is precisely those elements that cause it to remain of interest today. Although ranking somewhat below the pioneering efforts of Sergei Eisenstein and Vsevolod Pudovkin whose theories greatly influenced its creation, The New Babylon still represents an innovative use of the cinema and one of the highpoints of the Soviet silent cinema.

1926 film by Jean Renoir

Julien Duvivier最好的作品之一也是他认为自己所有默片中最喜欢的一部。
Summary
Bullied by his matriarchal mother, abused by his siblings, ignored by his father, Poil de Carotte's childhood is as miserable as it could be. An illegitimate child, he is the main reason for the enmity which exists between his parents, who continue to live together just to keep up appearances. In the end, Poil de Carotte's suffering becomes more than he can bear...
Review
Drawing heavily on the poignant novel by Jules Renard on which it is based, Poil de carotte is a modest yet appealing film which has stood the test of time mainly because of the quality of its acting performances and its inherent humanity. It is more memorable than Julien Duvivier's earlier silent version of 1925, also named Poil de Carotte.
The part of Poil de Carotte was played by 11 year old Robert Lynen, who was alleged to have been discovered whilst walking down the Champs-Elysées in Paris. Lynen is totally captivating and the film made him an instant star, launching what looked like becoming a very promising film career – until he was shot dead whilst fighting against the Germans in 1944. Harry Baur, a legendary stage and film actor (who also died during World War II, allegedly at the hands of the Gestapo), also turns in a typically fine performance. The reconciliation between father and son at the end of the film provides its most enduring image, enough to melt the heart of all but the most stoical of spectators.

In this movie, Max Linder parodies the famous novel "The Three Musketeers".

Ko-Ko the Clown and his dog Fitz walk into a building where levers that control various aspects of the Earth are located. After Fitz presses a particular lever, the world goes topsy-turvy and out-of-control. Note that this cartoon contains strobe flashing.

A biopic of Napoleon Bonaparte, tracing the Corsican's career from his schooldays (where a snowball fight is staged like a military campaign) to his flight from Corsica, through the French Revolution (where a real storm is intercut with a political storm) and the Terror, culminating in his triumphant invasion of Italy in 1797.

While changing clothes in a getaway car, escaped convicts Stan and Ollie mistakenly put on each other's pants. They spend the rest of the film trying to exchange pants in various unlikely settings.

Due to some common interests between German and Russian aristocracy ( the Russians even had aristocrats in their past not to mention they had an Empress called Catherine the Great, as great as this German count's heiresses… ), it is not strange that this Teutonic count has understood and even enjoyed Herr S. M. Eisenstein's "Staroye I Novoye".
It is not very usual that for the aristocracy to enjoy Bolshevist films full of proletarian demands that put private property at risk or as it happens in this case, a film about the Communist Party's policy on the subject of the collectivization of the Soviet agriculture. Normally this would be perfect gibberish for this German count, but thanks to Herr Eisenstein 's greatness and directorial talent, the hardships of the heroine of the film, Dame Marfa ( Dame Marfa Lapkina ) breached even the thick aristocratic Schloss walls.
And that's one of the first remarkable aspects of this oeuvre; in spite of the political subject of the film, the powerful images and lyricism ( astonishing and beautiful shot compositions ), especially during the first part of the movie, preserve the artistic merits entirely while serving a propaganda purpose. The second remarkable aspect of the film is the dichotomy between the old and new, the fight to improve the lot of Dame Marfa and her countrymen. There are many discussions because it is not easy even in Russia to change ancient and conservative customs. There are superb metaphors and social criticism ( illiteracy, bureaucracy, religiosity ) which perfectly fit the film, and last but not least, "Staroye I Novoye", is a kind of archaic documentary about ancient customs established deeply in old Russia, those ones that our heroine must fight against. And there is also a lot about agriculture ( very enlightening for this German count), especially about harvesting and how to fatten Russian cows or pigs ( literally, no pun here… ).
Herr Eisenstein had to bear during the last era of his film career, unbelievable censorship and mutilation of his work, as happens with "Staroye I Novoye". The film was reedited and Eisenstein accused of sympathizing with Trostky's policies but fortunately the film was restored and showed by the German-frenchified t.v. channel "ARTE", natürlich!, including an evocative music score by Herr Taras Bujewski, that fits superbly Herr Eisenstein primal artistic interests.
And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must buy a tractor for one of his Teutonic heiress.

An example of ironic Soviet propagandistic film from the silent era, this film chronicles the adventures of an American, "Mr. West," and his faithful bodyguard and servant Jeddie, as they visit the land of the horrible, evil Bolsheviks. Through various mishaps, Mr. West discovers that the Soviets are actually quite remarkable people, and, by the end of the film, his opinion of them has changed to one of glowing admiration!

1929 film by Georg Wilhelm Pabst

A con artist masquerades as Russian nobility and attempts to seduce the wife of an American diplomat.

A photographer takes up newsreel shooting to impress a secretary.

Zvenigora is, in terms of narrative and content, one of the most remarkable avant-garde films of an exuberantly experimental period. The film uses the central construct of a legend regarding treasure buried in Mount Zvenigora to build a montage of scenes praising Ukrainian industrialisation, attacking the European bourgeoisie, celebrating the beauty of the Ukrainian steppe and re-telling ancient myths.
The narrative is built upon Modernist lines, disregarding the traditional, novelistic storytelling techniques and instead using abrupt shifts in time and using the constructive devices of avant-garde poets such as Blok, Bely and Mayakovsky to create a picture of modern Ukraine that pushes in several directions at once.
There are some incredibly striking tableaux that require the viewers to create a structure for themselves (such as the Bolshevik soldier directing his own execution) although the climax does draw the preceding events together, combining the dialectical threads of modern industry and the old man's myth together in two exhilarating scenes.
The cinematography is fascinating - elements of the style of Eisenstein, Pudovkin, Protazanov and Kuleshov are recognisable, yet Zvenigora seems completely different to any of them. The juxtaposition of rapid montages, swift city tours and slow, poetic journeys around the countryside is powerful, and the mythical scenes, although winding, are beautifully realised with a dreamlike quality to them.
Zvenigora is not Dovzhenko's masterpiece, if only because his Earth (1930) is one of the greatest Russian films ever made. However, it is highly recommended, although if you are new to Russian film of the period it is probably not the best place to start.

According to the "Aristokratische Enzyklopädie" one of the most important characteristics of the communist people it is that they like to do things as a "community" (as it happens with the screenplay of "Dom Na Trubnoy" written by 5 reputed scriptwriters!). When it comes to their fondness to share property and prosperity, at the first opportunity those rules are betrayed without any remorse…as is depicted in this film. When a tough, zaftig Russian girl, named Paranja, goes to Moscow, with her only companion a goose (those interesting animals that can be transformed in "foie gras") searching for her uncle Fiodor she ultimately becomes a servant of a barber and his idle wife. Due to such a strange Bolshevik situation, very soon Paranja becomes class-conscious.
"Dom Na Trubnoy" (The House On Trubnay) was directed by Herr Boris Barnet - a not very well-known Russian film director. This presents another Bolshevik contradiction according to that aristocratic encyclopaedia because this great director has a likeness for… comedies!
Boris Barnet's films are excellent shows of superb timing and thrilling editing (this film it is an excellent display of incredible camera movements and various techniques, including, for example, elegant travel shots, long and foreground shots of the chaotic scenery around the Trubnay house). The picture is made of comic stories based mostly on daily situations with touches of bitterness (making it a kind of Communist social reality satire). That's not to mention the political content but this last subject is always perfectly incorporated into the storyline, without stridencies and as an extra factor that enriches the story.
Due to those Boris Barnet's film characteristics, it made of him a bizarre "rara avis" in Russian silent film; these comic films are a special surprise for the silent fans, communists or not. And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must be careful with the possibility of the awareness of the class-consciousness of the servants.

Brandon, a surveyor, dreams of building a railway to the west. He sets off with his son, Davy, to survey a route. They discover a new pass which will shave 200 miles off the expected distance, but they are set upon by a party of Cheyenne. One of them, a white renegade with only two fingers on his right hand, kills Brandon and scalps him. Davy is all alone now.

An unhappily married woman devises a scheme to get rid of her husband.

A cameraman wanders around with a camera slung over his shoulder, documenting urban life with dazzling inventiveness.

Speedy loses his job as a soda jerk, then spends the day with his girl at Coney Island. He then becomes a cab driver and delivers Babe Ruth to Yankee Stadium, where he stays to see the game. When the railroad tries to run the last horse-drawn trolley (operated by his girl's grandfather) out of business, Speedy organizes the neighborhood old-timers to thwart their scheme.

Two sailors on shore leave rent a car and go on a drive with their dates, but soon get involved in a huge traffic jam with dozens of ill-tempered motorists. A minor collision sets off an escalating series of retaliations.

A tipsy doctor encounters his patient sleepwalking on a building ledge, high above the street.