by Allan Fish
(USA 1927 119m) DVD1/2
The Hole in the Sock
p William Fox d Frank Borzage w Benjamin Glazer play Austin Strong ph Ernest Palmer, J.A.Valentine ed H.H.Caldwell, Katharine Hilliker m Michael Mortilla song “Diane” by Erno Rapee, Lew Pollack art Harry Oliver cos Kathleen Kay
Janet Gaynor (Diane), Charles Farrell (Chico), Gladys Brockwell (Nana), David Butler (Gobin), Brandon Hurst (Uncle George), Ben Bard (Colonel Brissac), Albert Gran (Boul), Jessie Haslett (Aunt Valentine),
Seventh Heaven’s reputation has risen, fallen and risen from the ashes again much like that of its director Frank Borzage. It won him an Oscar in 1927, and for a few years he was the Academy’s darling, winning another award a few years later. Yet for many years, after World War II, Borzage’s doomed romanticism seemed phoney, out of date with the prevailing cynicism. Only in recent decades have Borzage and his films undergone a bit of a revaluation. He’s now seen as a master by many, and though I don’t think he ever made an outright masterpiece, of his silents this came the closest.
The setting is Paris in 1914. Diane is a timid mouse of a girl who lives with her bullying, absinthe addicted whore of a sister in a slum dwelling. One day news reaches them that their aunt and uncle have returned from overseas to take them under their wing, but will not do so if the girls have not been good. Despite vicious arm-twisting and threats from her sister, Diane cannot lie, and when her aunt and uncle depart, tossing money on the floor like a client leaving payment on the dresser, Diane’s sister beats and whips her savagely (McDowell acting like she’s in an Erich Von Stroheim or Cecil B.de Mille film). To the rescue comes Chico, a live-for-the-moment sewer worker, who threatens the sister with violence of his own if she doesn’t leave off. But the sister, having been caught by the gendarmes, volunteers Diane as a vagrant, and Chico pretends they’re married to keep the law off her back. He takes Diane up to his rooftop garret on the seventh floor, closest to heaven (hence the title). Needless to say, they fall in love.
The most famous aspect of the film to many, even to this day, is the immortal theme music, ‘Diane’, named after the heroine, reworked by dozens of vocal artists and as soundtrack to countless later movies (and as score to reissued earlier silents). It’s arguably the most famous theme of American silent cinema. It compliments a truly unforgettable visual depiction of guttural Paris, with its dreamily romantic rooftops with their avenues and planks leading from one to the next, Sacre Coeur (what else?) taking pride of place in the view from the main window and the opening caption reworking Oscar Wilde’s famous observation that “we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” Love was in itself transcendental to Borzage, lifting the soul to a higher plain of ecstasy, always looking up at the heavens rather than down at the sewer.
Visually the film is very representative of the time, with its soft close-ups and faux realist sets, and the performances established a partnership that would become Borzage’s most profitable. Charles Farrell’s performances in these films don’t hold up too well these days, but that in Seventh Heaven is certainly his best. Yet there can be no doubt as to the star; Gaynor is herself transcendental, a successor to the crown of Lillian Gish, an innocent doll lost in hell, with a face worthy of the Madonna. The finale, where Chico returns from World War I blind to find again his love certainly got the audience’s hankies saturated, but my two favourite scenes come earlier in the piece when Diane has just arrived at the garret. Gaynor is undressing while Chico goes across the rooftops to get something. She strips down to her slip and then dives under the covers like a petrified squirrel desperately trying to hide its nuts. When he comes back with a night gown, she’s still afraid he’ll get in with her, and we feel her nervousness reach out like a shaking tap on the shoulder. Likewise, a few minutes later, when she climbs out of bed in the said gown and finds Chico sleeping out on the balcony, her relief is equally palpable. You love her. Don’t blame the film that it isn’t Sunrise; after all, what is?
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Yes, that theme music is indeed the most famous in all of silent cinema Allan, and yes Gaynor is trscendental, and yes, this is as close as Borzage came to a flat-out masterpiece, and yes Farrell is most effective. It’s an unforgettable film.
Allen, thank you for this tribute. I admit to being one of those people for whom Farrell and Gaynor will always be Chico and Diane. Also, I think you were perceptive when you identified Gaynor as the more gifted actor. She is extraordinarily sensitive and powerful in this role. The preparing-for-bed scene you described is like an acting tutorial–except that it’s adorable, natural, and we feel so protective of her. All of her fear and sadness, beaten into her in the past by her vicious sister, are warring with hope in her face—and when Chico is revealed to be sleeping in his OWN bed (armchair?), that smile of hers is something to remember.
She was also excellent in Street Angel, but that film seems to be almost entirely forgotten.
Yes, but hopefully its release on DVD will see it reappraised. It’s not as good as Seventh Heaven, but it’s good enough. Ironically, Seventh Heaven was semi-remade in China by Yuan Muzhi but was called Street Angel, just to confuse. That’s a great one, too, if you can track it down on R1.