Though not all are equal, by and large it's gratifying just to watch a surviving silent film, for there are far too many that have been lost over the years. Some have weathered time better than others, whether in terms of expression of values that are no longer acceptable or just with regards to the physical condition of prints preceding preservation and restoration. While filmmaker D. W. Griffith is equally legendary for his most lauded contributions to cinema and notorious for his most vilified contributions, thankfully 'The avenging conscience' is a title that holds up pretty well all around. I wouldn't call it perfect; even for devotees of the silent era I think there are aspects to the construction here that leave something to be desired, and it's not likely to change the minds of those modern viewers who have a hard time engaging with older movies. It remains deserving on its own merits, however, and is worth revisiting - and in fact, truthfully, it's even better than I had supposed it would be when I first sat down to watch.
The picture makes no bones about taking inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe, and even within the length itself it makes note of just that. As such one will have certain expectations about the course of the story, and as if the name weren't indication enough, there is definitely an element of the macabre herein. One might well observe, though, that this comes around only in the second half of the runtime, and the first half is a straightforward melodrama that could have easily been teased out into a conventional romantic drama of the period. Here is where lies a couple faults of the feature, for the pacing in all such scenes is surely a little sluggish: progressing piecemeal from beat to beat, pausing to tread water, and heavily drawing out and emphasizing each. Moreover, in the early stretch the sequencing seems a tad disjointed as we're introduced to all the characters who will play a part in the tableau in time, but this exposition jumps around so much that the approach is a tad off-putting.
Be that as it may the tale is compelling, and written well in and of itself with no small amount of genuine imagination to round it out. There are touches here of deviousness and atmosphere that lend gratifying flavor to the proceedings; where Griffith's narrative discretely illustrates Poe's influence, the flourishes of the "master of the macabre" are felt quite effectively with strong scene writing. Between some wonderful details in the writing, admirable and wholehearted acting from the cast, modest yet superb effects, and Griffith's firm oversight as director to make it all count, there is a palpable air of horror that manifests as the plot advances. It may be a long walk to get to that anticipated value, but the journey really is worth it. All the while, we're treated to the excellence one hopes of a filmmaker so generally esteemed: the sets and filming locations are outstanding, flush with swell minutiae; the costume design, hair, and makeup are fetching. The more robust moments come off well - and are surprisingly dark, not least at the climax - and G. W. Bitzer's cinematography remains crisp and vivid even over 100 years later. And one must certainly give credit to the stars, above all Henry B. Walthall and Spottiswoode Aitken, for even within the stereotypical silent slant of exaggerated body language and facial expressions their acting is an integral component of the weight that 'The avenging conscience' does ultimately carry.
I think the most "high and mighty" affectations of the storytelling are a little gauche, unmistakably hearkening to the culture of the 1910s and less abjectly meaningful in the twenty-first century - but so it goes. There's also one other point worth discussion, however, for to my chagrin the film employs a trope of fiction that I utterly despise. One way or another the device so often feels like a cop-out wherever it arises, a tacit admission of either having run out of ideas, or unwillingness to take a more extreme step further. Rarely is it used well, and though there was a chance it could have been utilized in this case to make the whole even more striking (and morose), that's not what we get. With all that said, however: while I think that presence here is unfortunate, I can't bring myself to get mad about it in this instance. The narrative that Griffith penned is sufficiently solid that a slow first act melts away into a second act that's unexpectedly commanding, with spicier genre garnishes than I would have assumed for an American filmmaker in 1914. The plot could have turned still more grim, yet for where we do end up, the resolution almost feels like a spot of relief after the unforeseen vibrancy of what preceded it. Not least with some creative embellishments to the end sequence, I'm inclined to think that this is an all too uncommon example of a storytelling trope, that I hate, being used and nevertheless coming off well. I never thought I'd be typing those words, but here we are.
Honestly, I'm very pleased with just how good this is. It doesn't make the best first impression, least of all given its reputation as early horror cinema, but good things come to those who wait. I had my reservations, too, having been aware ahead of time of how the title ends, but when all is said and done even those concerns were met, answered, and resolved. This won't appeal to everyone, least of all genre purists and modern viewers for whom the silent era just doesn't go down easily. All I can say is that I had mixed expectations, and even as I see other directions the last minutes could have been taken, those expectations have been handily exceeded. That reputation of 'The avenging conscience' is well deserved after all, and if you have the opportunity to watch, these seventy-eight minutes are well worth checking out!
The picture makes no bones about taking inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe, and even within the length itself it makes note of just that. As such one will have certain expectations about the course of the story, and as if the name weren't indication enough, there is definitely an element of the macabre herein. One might well observe, though, that this comes around only in the second half of the runtime, and the first half is a straightforward melodrama that could have easily been teased out into a conventional romantic drama of the period. Here is where lies a couple faults of the feature, for the pacing in all such scenes is surely a little sluggish: progressing piecemeal from beat to beat, pausing to tread water, and heavily drawing out and emphasizing each. Moreover, in the early stretch the sequencing seems a tad disjointed as we're introduced to all the characters who will play a part in the tableau in time, but this exposition jumps around so much that the approach is a tad off-putting.
Be that as it may the tale is compelling, and written well in and of itself with no small amount of genuine imagination to round it out. There are touches here of deviousness and atmosphere that lend gratifying flavor to the proceedings; where Griffith's narrative discretely illustrates Poe's influence, the flourishes of the "master of the macabre" are felt quite effectively with strong scene writing. Between some wonderful details in the writing, admirable and wholehearted acting from the cast, modest yet superb effects, and Griffith's firm oversight as director to make it all count, there is a palpable air of horror that manifests as the plot advances. It may be a long walk to get to that anticipated value, but the journey really is worth it. All the while, we're treated to the excellence one hopes of a filmmaker so generally esteemed: the sets and filming locations are outstanding, flush with swell minutiae; the costume design, hair, and makeup are fetching. The more robust moments come off well - and are surprisingly dark, not least at the climax - and G. W. Bitzer's cinematography remains crisp and vivid even over 100 years later. And one must certainly give credit to the stars, above all Henry B. Walthall and Spottiswoode Aitken, for even within the stereotypical silent slant of exaggerated body language and facial expressions their acting is an integral component of the weight that 'The avenging conscience' does ultimately carry.
I think the most "high and mighty" affectations of the storytelling are a little gauche, unmistakably hearkening to the culture of the 1910s and less abjectly meaningful in the twenty-first century - but so it goes. There's also one other point worth discussion, however, for to my chagrin the film employs a trope of fiction that I utterly despise. One way or another the device so often feels like a cop-out wherever it arises, a tacit admission of either having run out of ideas, or unwillingness to take a more extreme step further. Rarely is it used well, and though there was a chance it could have been utilized in this case to make the whole even more striking (and morose), that's not what we get. With all that said, however: while I think that presence here is unfortunate, I can't bring myself to get mad about it in this instance. The narrative that Griffith penned is sufficiently solid that a slow first act melts away into a second act that's unexpectedly commanding, with spicier genre garnishes than I would have assumed for an American filmmaker in 1914. The plot could have turned still more grim, yet for where we do end up, the resolution almost feels like a spot of relief after the unforeseen vibrancy of what preceded it. Not least with some creative embellishments to the end sequence, I'm inclined to think that this is an all too uncommon example of a storytelling trope, that I hate, being used and nevertheless coming off well. I never thought I'd be typing those words, but here we are.
Honestly, I'm very pleased with just how good this is. It doesn't make the best first impression, least of all given its reputation as early horror cinema, but good things come to those who wait. I had my reservations, too, having been aware ahead of time of how the title ends, but when all is said and done even those concerns were met, answered, and resolved. This won't appeal to everyone, least of all genre purists and modern viewers for whom the silent era just doesn't go down easily. All I can say is that I had mixed expectations, and even as I see other directions the last minutes could have been taken, those expectations have been handily exceeded. That reputation of 'The avenging conscience' is well deserved after all, and if you have the opportunity to watch, these seventy-eight minutes are well worth checking out!