Underworld (1927)

Since my last silent viewing was a year and a half ago, I decided to give this priority. It would also help me get a better sense of director Josef von Sternberg, having seen four of his movies before. This was the surprise hit that formed his comeback and advanced a bunch of other careers, and Luis Buñuel named it his favorite flick overall.

An erudite yet drunken ex-lawyer (Clive Brook) expresses recognition of "Bull" Weed (George Bancroft) as the latter leaves a nighttime bank robbery. Bull threatens him, but the drunk declares himself "a Rolls Royce of silence," thereafter going by "Rolls Royce." Intrigued, Bull gives him a custodial job at a seedy bar and becomes fonder of him when he stands up to bully and Bull rival "Buck" Mulligan (Fred Kohler). After that, Rolls becomes an urbane butler of sorts for Bull, keeping his own hands clean while helping with the criminal ideas, at least when it stands to spell bad news for Buck. But Bull comes to realize that he shouldn't leave his moll "Feathers" (Evelyn Brent) alone with Rolls for long. And he's not at all sure that Feathers or Rolls will be there for him if he gets caught....

As gangsters go, Bull's pretty likable. Not only does he turn on the charm when he isn't mad, but he's generous with his ill-gotten gains, claiming that he's all about helping others. And he scolds a kid for stealing an apple, which, while nakedly hypocritical, does indicate some qualms about theft and might set the kid on a better path. Half the time, we kinda want him to succeed, which is one reason the censors didn't approve the film at first. It helps that Buck is overly irascible and vulgar by comparison. Me, I'm more concerned when we're urged to hope that Rolls and Feathers aid Bull's escape instead of letting him face justice (and freeing themselves from his then-unwelcome shadow).

Film historians have said that the advent of sound in cinema made way for the gangster subgenre, with all its gunfire. Now I'm thinking that it would have become a fad anyway. Underworld took the same sort of ripped-from-the-headlines inspiration as early talkies like Little Caesar and The Public Enemy. The action sequences are far from constant, but I can see how contemporary audiences would find it so enthralling that, for the first time on record, a theater unexpectedly stayed open all night.

Reporter-turned-screenwriter Ben Hecht won an Oscar for the story. I hope he thanked everyone else who affected the writing, because I appreciate how it all comes together. For instance, the intertitles are economic, never conveying more of the dialog than necessary. Optional minor characters have been cut. And if von Sternberg hadn't been handed control, we would have gotten at least one scene that could have bogged down the picture. The gestalt gives us a tight 80 minutes for the era.

If any aspect could be called indulgent, it's the cinematography. For better and worse, von Sternberg already had a reputation for artiness. We can enjoy it (after a moment of confusion) when Rolls takes notice of a falling piece of feather boa before laying eyes on Feathers, but things get maybe too dizzying when he and Bull are sucked into the boozy party.

If the idea of sympathizing with crooks doesn't turn you off, you may still have reservations about the ending, in which Bull's change of heart comes on rather suddenly. Sure, he had a good side to begin with, but not like this. It smacks of Hollywood. I'm just glad von Sternberg didn't go with one of the earlier drafts, which would have been more violently sensational but no more believable.

I think Underworld was the only silent left on my Netflix queue. If it's the last I ever see, not a bad sendoff. But I plan to add more, not least from von Sternberg.