Review: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)

* * *
Director: Wallace Worsley
Starring: Lon Chaney

First published in 1831, Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame is one of those stories that has really taken on a life of its own in popular culture. It’s one of the more frequently adapted books in film history (though it hasn’t been adapted nearly as often as Hugo’s Les Miserables), perhaps because it’s in the public domain and therefore fair game, but more likely because it’s a rich and compelling story. It’s about outcasts and misfits, injustice and cruelty, with liberal doses of sex and violence mixed in as well. It is not a “nice” story, though you might not know it by this particular adaptation.

Directed by Wallace Worsley and starring Lon Chaney as Quasimodo, this version of the story sticks to certain plot points while rewriting others in order to give it a happy ending. In this film, as in the book, Quasimodo is a deformed foundling whose only joy in life comes from ringing the bells of the Notre Dame Cathedral. Hated by others because of his appearance, he seldom leaves the sanctuary of the Cathedral, which is presided over by the Archdeacon Claude Frollo (Nigel De Brulier). In the film Claude Frollo is the spirit of kindness while his brother, Jehan (Brandon Hurst) is pure evil – you can tell because the former is dressed all in white and the latter is dressed all in black. Jehan is enamored with the gypsy girl Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller) and manipulates Quasimodo into attempting to kidnap her. When the kidnapping goes awry Quasimodo is sentenced to a public lashing and Esmeralda, despite his attempt to abduct her and despite the fact that she is as disgusted by his appearance as everyone else, is the only person to show him any kindness, bringing him water to alleviate his suffering.

Jehan continues to plot to have Esmeralda to himself, but his schemes are complicated by Phoebus de Chateaupers (Norman Kerry), who rescued her from Quasimodo and now wants to marry her. Jehan stabs Phoebus and frames Esmeralda, who is sentenced to death but saved by Quasimodo, who claims sanctuary for her in the Cathedral and proceeds to defend it against the hordes of people trying to break down its doors. The scenes involving the rescue of Esmeralda and the defense of the Cathedral are the best in the movie, brimming with a high level of action and excitement that Worsley handles well. This high point, however, is followed fairly switfly by the film's conclusion, an odd ending that finds Quasimodo dying unceremoniously without Esmeralda even noticing because she only has eyes for Phoebus, who once again shows up just in the nick of time.

One of the strangest things about this adaptation (and, from what I understand, a common change in many adaptations of the story) is that it has been turned into a love story between Esmeralda and Phoebus. In the book Phoebus makes a lot of false promises to Esmeralda in order to get her into bed, fully intending to abandon her and marry Fleur-de-Lis, a wealthy woman of standing. When he recovers from being stabbed and learns that Esmeralda is about to be executed for his “murder,” he does absolutely nothing. Here, however, he’s the film’s hero, even more heroic than Quasimodo, whose deformity apparently prevents him from being really “good.” Quasimodo is characterized here as more animal than human, his devotion to Esmeralda more like that of a dog towards its master. Chaney, indeed, plays Quasimodo as if he was an abused dog (although, given how Quasimodo swings around from the heights of the Cathedral, monkey might be a more apt word), though the performance is powerful nevertheless. Chaney mixes an intense vulnerability together with a simmering anger towards his tormentors that makes his interpretation of Quasimodo particularly memorable.

The other major change to the story concerns the brothers Frollo. In the book, it’s Claude who is the evil catalyst for events, whose lust for Esmeralda leads to destruction, while Jehan is just his lay about younger brother. This gives the book an anti-clerical aspect that the film is lacking and makes for a very different set of dynamics overall. I suppose these changes work in terms of compressing the story, but they also rob it of some of its more potent themes and scenes. Still, helped in large part by Chaney's great performance, this version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame is definitely worth seeing and has aged relatively well.

Review: The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

* * * 1/2
Director: Rupert Julian
Starring: Loney Chaney, Mary Philbin

In spite of the fact that films made today are more permissive when it comes to violence and sex, silent horror films have an impact that few films made after can match. The unromanticized monsters of films like Nosferatu and The Phantom of the Opera are effective figures that seem to have been plucked right out of a nightmare and onto the screen and remain frightening eight decades later. Though it sometimes veers a little too far into melodrama, Rupert Julian's version of Gaston Leroux's novel is intense enough to make you forget every other version of the story.

The story of The Phantom of the Opera, in case you didn’t know, is this: beneath the Paris opera house a disfigured composer, known to all as The Phantom (Lon Chaney), lives and nurses an obsession with the young singer Christine Daae (Mary Philbin). In order to help his beloved achieve fame and success, he forces the opera’s star Carlotta (Mary Fabian) off the stage through a campaign of terror that includes sending the chandelier crashing down onto the audience. With Christine’s status as a star secured, it is time for her to meet her mysterious mentor. After opening a secret passage in her dressing room, she descends with The Phantom deep underground to his lair, realizing with each step what a dangerous error in judgment she’s made. The Phantom is not the romantic hero of her fantasies, but a clearly unhinged man who tells her she must never attempt to remove his mask.

Any guesses as to how long it takes her to unmask him? Believe me, it isn’t long and what she finds isn’t the semi-scarred face of Gerard Butler as in the 2004 musical film version, but a truly horrific visage designed by Chaney, whose motto when choosing characters was, apparently, the more disfigured and grotesque, the better. Seeing his skull-like face, Christine shrinks away from him but there’s no escape: The Phantom has traps set everywhere and no one can navigate them safely but him. This of course won’t stop Christine’s lover Raoul (Norman Kerry) from trying, which leads to the dramatic and exciting finale.

Chaney is commonly known as "the man of a thousand faces," a moniker which does him a slight disservice because it draws all the attention to his makeup. The makeup is, of course, wonderfully grotesque, but his isn't a performance built on makeup alone. His Phantom is a monster, yes, but one who has suffered wounds of his own, who inflicts pain on others because he is himself so intensely vulnerable. In his twisted way he does love Christine and covets her both for her beauty and for what that beauty represents: the key to being adored by others. The Phantom is a gifted composer but because of his face he can never stand before an audience to receive applause. He lives vicariously through Christine and accepts her triumph as a triumph of his own. The Phantom is a fascinating character, a frightening character, but above all, a character to be pitied and Chaney's performance brings all of those elements together in a wonderful, intriguing way.

Aside from Chaney’s performance, I think what makes this version of the story so much more effective than others is the fact that it’s silent. There’s a moody, nightmarish quality to the film that draws you in almost against your will. The production values of later versions are more impressive – the chandelier sequence and the masked ball of the 2004 musical version are certainly stylish and memorable, albeit in a film that is completely soulless – but they are unable to capture the darkly magical quality of this one. Everything just seems so sinister in this version and as the story gathers steam, it becomes outright horrific. From the point when The Phantom is unmasked onward (“Feast your eyes! Glut your soul on my accursed ugliness!”), the film is absolutely riveting and the final act, as The Phantom is chased through his lair and then the streets of Paris, is pitch perfect. Although the film starts a bit slow, it ends up being a very satisfying viewing experience.