I am very excited to announce a new feature for the site: After the Silents.

What is it? It will involve brief reviews covering sound movies that feature silent era performers and directors.

I got the idea for this feature in two parts. First, I noticed as I was doing research using sites like IMDB and Wikipedia that one phrase kept cropping up: “One of the few silent era performers to make it into talkies.” I read the phrase in dozens of articles in a row! Now anyone familiar with silent movies and early talkies knows that lots of silent era performers made the jump, albeit sometimes with diminished prestige. This “one of the few” talk may seem like a small issue but it bugged me all the same.

The second part of the idea came when Joey over at The Last Drive In asked me to join her William Castle Blogathon. William Castle, of course, made no silent films but I noticed that he had made quite a few films with actors who had been active in the silents.

Eureka! Why not talk a bit about films that featured former silent actors?

Here are my goals for this new feature:

• Introduce readers to a silent actor whose sound work has been forgotten
• Reacquaint readers with a famous sound-era actor whose silent work has been forgotten
• Help viewers dive into the silents. I think it is much easier for newer viewers of silents to enjoy them if they see one of their favorite sound-era performers.

I plan to keep reviews short and, after a brief review of the overall film, focus on the work of the former silent stars and director. I intend to review films that are either representative of the performer’s sound career or are the most famous sound films that they acted in.

My first after the silents review? Here’s hint:

Actually, this gives the whole game away but enjoy anyway! I will be posting it soon.

Oh, and if you blog, do be sure to sign up for that William Castle blogathon!

Before I get started, I think a little background is in order. Hopalong Cassidy holds a special place in my family. You see, as a kid, my mom had this:

Hopalong Cassidy flatware (ebay)

And my dad had this, complete with pistols:

My dad had the third outfit from the right. Aww! (flickr)

The silver-haired, black-clad do-gooder is the top cowboy in my eyes, bar none. I am going to be reviewing the very first Cassidy film from 1935. Star William Boyd’s career had been in trouble even before the silent era ended and he had not been able to reclaim his top-tier status in the talkies. Hop-a-long Cassidy (as it was spelled on initial release) was a B-western based on the popular novels of Clarence Mulford. Of course, Hopalong Cassidy would turn into a cultural phenomenon and Boyd would become the hero of millions of children.

How popular was Hoppy? Well, one of the stories going around is about a little boy watching Hoppy on television. Hoppy was disarmed and about the get shot. Wanting to save his hero, the little boy threw his own cap pistol into the television. No more TV but Hoppy was saved! (I wonder what the parents thought about this.)

(comicbookplus.com)

Why did I choose this film as the first one I would review for After the Silents? One simple reason: The Hoppy films did for me what I am hoping this series will do for you. I loved Hoppy and I loved William Boyd. So imagine my thrill at discovering that he had been a leading man in the silent era. I tracked down his silent films and had an absolutely splendid time watching Hoppy play a red-hot Bolshevik, a two-fisted minister, a wise-cracking doughboy, a shanghaied dude in distress… Some years have passed but I still get excited when I watch Boyd in a silent.

And Hop-a-long Cassidy offers not one former silent star but two! Robert Warwick, who plays the leading lady’s dear old dad, was a silent leading man from the ‘teens. He is perhaps best remembered (in silents, that is) for playing the title character in 1915′s Alias Jimmy Valentine.

Director Howard Bretherton also started in the silents. He spent his entire career in B-pictures, mostly westerns.

Just a note: I am not combing the credits for every single performer who had a silent role. Instead, I will be focusing on the biggest names in the cast. Also, I will be keeping things brief so I won’t be able to include every single detail of the film series or careers of the performers.

Film Review:

The first of a staggering 66 Hopalong Cassidy films (plus TV show, radio shows, and more tie-in products than I can count), Hop-a-long Cassidy is a little rough around the edges but its enormous potential is obvious.

My beloved Ming… as a rancher?

The Bar-20 Ranch has a little problem. The owner, Buck Peters (Charles Middleton, aka Ming the Merciless in an uncharacteristically heroic role) is engaged in a growing feud with the neighboring rancher Jim Meeker (Robert Warwick).

Bill Cassidy (William Boyd) shows up at the Bar-20 and is warmly greeted by his old friend, Uncle Ben (Gabby Hayes, who was still being credited as “George Hayes”). Cassidy also earns the respect of Johnny Nelson (James Ellison), a fiery young cowpoke. The range war begins to flare up, complicated by the ongoing flirtation between Johnny and Mary Meeker (Paula Stone), Jim Meeker’s daughter.

Can Cassidy help Buck win the war? Or will he discover something more sinister is afoot? And just how did Bill Cassidy become “Hopalong” Cassidy? You’ll find all the answers in the film!

Hop-a-long Cassidy is pretty standard B-western fare for 1935, perhaps a bit better than most. However, it already displays the formula that would become standard for Cassidy films: The trio of Cassidy, an old coot and a young buck. Sidekicks came and went but Cassidy always remained at the center. Viewers of this film would do best to think of this movie as a television show pilot episode. Sure, it’s still getting its footing but it is a preview of great things to come.

William Boyd:

The hero in black. The publicity department seems unsure as to where the dashes should go in “Hopalong”

In this film, William Boyd still has the affected over-enunciation that was common in the early talkies. However, he is much more likable (and more like his old self) in the quieter scenes. He also puts in some pretty decent acting when called upon to be intense or grieving. In general, this film showed that Boyd still had it. And as the Hoppy series progressed, he was able to perfect his persona as the wise and affable (but tough!) western hero.

Boyd had worked his way up from bit parts and extra work (you can spot him in Why Change Your Wife? and Moran of the Lady Letty) to lead roles in major motion pictures by the mid-twenties. His most famous and popular films were probably The Volga Boatman and Two Arabian Knights. Off-screen, Boyd partied like it was 1926 (which it was) but his career began to sputter near the end of the silent era. Boyd’s Hollywood prospects almost suffered a deathblow when he was blamed for the scandalous dealings of a similarly-named actor– the newspapers printed a picture of the wrong William Boyd! Boyd limped along in B-pictures before winning the Cassidy role.

This is, of course, a very abbreviated account of William Boyd and Hopalong Cassidy. For further details, grab yourself a copy of Hoppy by Hank Williams.

Robert Warwick:

In the middle of his impressive 48-year movie career…

Robert Warwick played the hot-tempered ranching rival to the Bar-20. In spite of rumors that silent actors were incurable hams, Warwick does quite well in his small but important part. Another myth bites the dust!

Warwick made his film debut in 1914. One of his most memorable (and surviving!) roles, the lead in Alias Jimmy Valentine, was made the following year. Warwick’s stage experience helped him make a successful transition to talking pictures but his age meant that he was limited to character and supporting roles. Modern audiences will probably remember him best for his role as a studio mogul in Sullivan’s Travels (Preston Sturges used Warwick in many of his films), as well as small roles in films starring the likes of  Errol Flynn, Shirley Temple, Leslie Howard, and Katherine Hepburn.

Hope you enjoyed this little peek into the careers of two silent leading men. More to come!

When you hear about Plan 9 from Outer Space, the first thing you think of is a silent movie, right?

No? Well, keep reading!

Thrills! Chills! Cardboard headstones!

To be honest, I hesitated to write this. Folks have been snickering at bad movies ever since images flickered on the silver screen but the activity has lately been dubbed “hate-watching” online and elsewhere. I have a problem with the term since it does not really encompass what cheesy watching is all about.

First, a bit of background. My family loves bad sci-fi and general schlock, preferably vintage 50′s-60′s. Roger Corman, Bert I. Gordon and Ed Wood are the favorites, although I also have wonderful childhood memories of watching Phil Tucker’s The Robot Monster. Mystery Science Theater is a universal favorite (we are evenly divided between Team Mike and Team Joel).

This is where I disagree with the “hate-watching” moniker. I don’t hate these films, I love them! Every cheesy second. Yes, I laugh when the “alien” is a guy in a gorilla suit and a diving helmet. And of course, I cackle madly at the crazy dialogue. And those cardboard sets… I watch them for a good laugh but there is no malice.

I am going to be covering a film that some have dubbed The Worst Movie Ever, Plan 9 from Outer Space, schlockmeister Ed Wood’s magnum opus. It also makes use of the talents (rather loosely in one case) of two former silent film actors: Bela Lugosi and Tom Keene. Before I start, I want to emphasize that I do not wish to diminish the careers of these two hard-working men. I chose to cover Plan 9 because it is a cultural touchstone (albeit for all the wrong reasons) and it remains widely viewed.

Film Review:

Plan 9′s famous quality issues are known even to people who have never seen it: The strings on the UFOs! The doubling of the late Lugosi by a younger, taller man! “Your stupid minds! Stupid! Stupid!”

The plot is as follows: Aliens want to secretly raise corpses in order to force Earth governments to acknowledge extraterrestrial life. A cop, a pilot, an army man and an adenoidal housewife must stop them. The script is all over the place (why can’t the aliens just land their UFOs in the middle of New York city if they want people to believe in them) and the dialogue is, frankly, hilarious. But is this a bad movie?

It depends on your definition of bad. If you want to talk about actual craft (script, dialogue, acting, direction, effects) then this is indeed a bad film. But if you judge a film by how entertaining it is, Plan 9 comes off a champ. It’s pace is snappy, not a boring moment in the entire runtime. It is immensely quotable, there is always something new to see and it is an ideal party movie. Everyone has their favorite part. I am particularly partial to the marvelously wacky performance of Bunny Breckinridge as the sardonic alien ruler who is surrounded by fools.

This film is an exuberant bit of entertainment. It proves that if you want something enough and try your hardest… it can be unintentionally hilarious.

Bela Lugosi

Lugosi is the posthumous star…

Bela Lugosi was almost fifty years old when he found screen immortality as Dracula in 1931. He had made his screen debut in his native Hungary in 1917 (under the name Arisztid Olt) but had been forced to flee to Germany due to his pro-union activities (he would later help form the Screen Actors Guild). Much of Lugosi’s work in Germany is unavailable for viewing in the U.S. (and the few films that are available are of shocking print quality) but one lost film is of particular interest: Der Januskopf (1920), which starred Conrad Veidt in a Jekyll and Hyde plot. Lugosi played a supporting role.

The real Bela Lugosi…

Lugosi emigrated to America in 1920, where he supplemented his work on the stage with supporting roles and extra work in the motion pictures. As for his rumored affair with Clara Bow… I will say what I always say about such matters: All those involved have passed away so believe whatever makes you happy.

Lugosi’s big break, of course, came when Universal was looking for the perfect vampire. Lugosi had been chewing up the scenery in a stage version of the tale and he brought his intensity to the role, carrying the entire picture. The role of Dracula was an enormous success but Lugosi was typecast as a horror actor and would remain so for the rest of his career.

By the time Lugosi began his collaboration with director Ed Wood, his career was in freefall but his strong work ethic remained. The generally accepted tale of Plan 9 is as follows: Lugosi’s death left Wood with some footage but no star to complete the planned film. As a tribute to the late actor and as a way to keep his biggest star in the credits, Wood used and reused and re-reused the Lugosi footage, employed his wife’s chiropractor as Lugosi’s double to pad the role and added narration to (sort of) fill the story gaps.

In the end, Bela Lugosi’s career may not have been what his great talent deserved but his charisma and star power are undeniable. Even in his later low-budget appearances, he throws his all in.

And his less-than-convincing double.

Tom Keene

Tom Keene never made a silent movie. His brief silent career was achieved entirely under his birth name, George Duryea. Duryea had made his film debut in 1923 but no one seemed to take notice of him until 1928. In the waning months of the silent era, Duryea had significant roles in two notable “lasts”: Cecil B. DeMille’s last silent film, The Godless Girl (she’s an atheist! he’s a Christian! they both get sent to a brutal reform school! … love?), and Lon Chaney’s last silent film, Thunder.

George Duryea and Lina Basquette in the famous fire scene from “The Godless Girl” (neh.gov)

Duryea was over thirty when he played a teen in The Godless Girl but his youthful good looks meant he could play far younger than he was. In spite of a promising start, however, his career began to sputter and he signed on with RKO. B-Westerns were cheap and popular and the newly-christened (there is no consensus as to when the name change occurred) Tom Keene quickly began to churn out these films at a rapid rate.

Tom Keene was popular enough but he did not have the following of, say, William Boyd, Gene Autry, Buck Jones or Hoot Gibson. This can be partially blamed on the fact that Keene did not have a signature persona that he could carry from film to film. Keene got one more big break, however, starring in director King Vidor’s 1934 populist drama Our Daily Bread. The gritty realism did not appeal to Depression-era audiences and he was soon back on the B-Western treadmill.

Hoping for another career jumpstart, Keene changed his name again in 1944, this time to Richard Powers. As Powers, he played numerous supporting roles in serials, B-films and television. The Tom Keene name was occasionally dusted off and used in the credits, as it was in Plan 9.

Tom Keene was called on the deliver some outrageously bad dialogue. He was a real trouper.

The cast of Plan 9 can be divided into two categories: the overly-enthused and the shell-shocked. Keene can be comfortably counted as shell-shocked. His Colonel Edwards is called upon to deliver on of the more, um, memorable lines in the film:

“For a time we tried to contact them by radio but no response. Then they attacked a town, a small town I’ll admit, but never the less a town of people, people who died.”

It is a tribute to Tom Keene’s acting ability that he managed to deliver this with a straight face.

In the end, Tom Keene represents an often forgotten segment of classic Hollywood: an actor who is popular enough to carry a B-film but not a major star. Of the dozens and dozens of roles he performed, Plan 9 is by far the most popular title for modern audiences.

Plan 9 is a great example of how you can find lots of silent stars in the talkies– if you know where to look!