Director: Erich von Stroheim
Year: 1922
Runtime: 2 hr 22 min
Source: Blu-ray
This movie is definitely an interesting counterpoint to the morality tales that abound in the silent film era. It's length is rivaled among its early list-mates only by Intolerance, but in its direction it couldn't be further in spirit. Unlike Griffith, who reveled in the ultimate control that the medium of silent film gave him to espouse his message, the director Erich von Stroheim is content to let us make our minds about the amoral "Count" Sergius Karamzin, a con man and womanizer played by von Stroheim himself, and also about why the director felt he needed to put these terrible misdeeds to film.
It's especially interesting that the details of Karamzin's life are not entirely dissimilar to those of the director himself, as many have pointed out. Von Stroheim was an Austrian emigre who arrived in this country bearing a fake name claiming to be the son of nobility. Apparently, he had something of a penchant for playing very similar characters to Karamzin in his own films.
Certainly von Stroheim is a talented director, with a sharp eye for detail. The film has wonderful supporting actors - the American "foolish" wife that Karamzin attempts to seduce is a much more complex character than the title would suggest. And though the movie has often been read as a satire of the superficialities of high society, I'm not sure I agree with that take, since most of the characters we see apart from the criminals are especially noble. The would-be deceived husband seems to be largely aware of what's going on from the beginning, and also unusually understanding for a movie of this time (or our time for that matter).
The only real fool in this story is Karamzin himself, despite his irrepressible charm and wit, and he certainly gets his comeuppance. In the end, I haven't really penetrated the riddle of this movie, and what von Stroheim's intent was in making it. At the time, it was seen as especially salacious, although it won't read that way today. Nevertheless the director clearly intended it to push boundaries.
In some ways, I feel about Foolish Wives the way I do about Michael Haneke's Funny Games. It's made with exquisite craft, and you can't take your eyes away from the screen, but is there a point beyond shocking our sensibility?
Year: 1922
Runtime: 2 hr 22 min
Source: Blu-ray
This movie is definitely an interesting counterpoint to the morality tales that abound in the silent film era. It's length is rivaled among its early list-mates only by Intolerance, but in its direction it couldn't be further in spirit. Unlike Griffith, who reveled in the ultimate control that the medium of silent film gave him to espouse his message, the director Erich von Stroheim is content to let us make our minds about the amoral "Count" Sergius Karamzin, a con man and womanizer played by von Stroheim himself, and also about why the director felt he needed to put these terrible misdeeds to film.
It's especially interesting that the details of Karamzin's life are not entirely dissimilar to those of the director himself, as many have pointed out. Von Stroheim was an Austrian emigre who arrived in this country bearing a fake name claiming to be the son of nobility. Apparently, he had something of a penchant for playing very similar characters to Karamzin in his own films.
Certainly von Stroheim is a talented director, with a sharp eye for detail. The film has wonderful supporting actors - the American "foolish" wife that Karamzin attempts to seduce is a much more complex character than the title would suggest. And though the movie has often been read as a satire of the superficialities of high society, I'm not sure I agree with that take, since most of the characters we see apart from the criminals are especially noble. The would-be deceived husband seems to be largely aware of what's going on from the beginning, and also unusually understanding for a movie of this time (or our time for that matter).
The only real fool in this story is Karamzin himself, despite his irrepressible charm and wit, and he certainly gets his comeuppance. In the end, I haven't really penetrated the riddle of this movie, and what von Stroheim's intent was in making it. At the time, it was seen as especially salacious, although it won't read that way today. Nevertheless the director clearly intended it to push boundaries.
In some ways, I feel about Foolish Wives the way I do about Michael Haneke's Funny Games. It's made with exquisite craft, and you can't take your eyes away from the screen, but is there a point beyond shocking our sensibility?
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