by Allan Fish
(USA 1928 115m) not on DVD
No honeymoon
p Pat Powers, Jesse Lasky Jnr, Adolph Zukor d Erich Von Stroheim w Harry Carr, Erich Von Stroheim ph Hal Mohr, Ben Reynolds, Ray Rennahan ed Frank Hull, Josef Von Sternberg, Julian Johnson md Carl Davis (including various classics) art Erich Von Stroheim, Richard Day cos Erich Von Stroheim, Max Ree
Erich Von Stroheim (Prince Nicholas Ehrhart Hans Karl Maria Von Wildeliebe-Rauffenberg), Fay Wray (Mitzi Schrammell), Matthew Betz (Schani Eberle), Zasu Pitts (Cecelia Schweisser), Maude George (Princess Maria Immaculata Von Wildeliebe-Rauffenberg), Cesare Gravina (Herr Schrammell), George Fawcett (Prince Ottakar Von Wildeliebe-Rauffenberg), George Nicholls (Schweisser), Dale Fuller (Frau Schrammell),
The opening caption to Von Stroheim’s romantic folly confirms that it is “dedicated to the true lovers of the world.” That in itself might seem a supremely romantic statement, were it not for the fact that Von Stroheim is referring not just to physical romantic lovers, but to true lovers of any aesthetic, in this case Von Stroheim’s beloved Vienna. He’s not the only master director to create love letters to that most imperial of cities (Max Ophuls did so many times a few decades later), but Von Stroheim’s films have an altogether grander quality. They are follies, but also amongst the most grandiose statements in silent cinema history. None of his classics can be seen as originally intended; Greed, Queen Kelly and Foolish Wives only survive in grossly butchered states, and The Wedding March is actually only part one of a story which was continued in The Honeymoon, which is now probably the most sought after lost film of them all. Originally the second film finished on a note of doomed romance. As it is, minus the second stanza, this poem to romance leaves a somewhat cynical but in some ways more realistic aftertaste.
The film is set in the very period prior to World War I that marked the final days of the Imperial Hapsburgs. Nikki, the hard-drinking, womanising and extravagantly living son of an impoverished aristocratic family, finally agrees to marry. As his parents have often harangued him, he decides to “marry money” and is engaged to the crippled daughter of a wealthy industrialist. Meanwhile he falls for a young lower class girl, Mitzi, and they enjoy a brief affair before her parents want her married off to the brutish Schani.
The final shots of the film are incredibly emotional, as Nikki marries his rich cripple while his rain-soaked beloved cries so hard even the rain cannot hide her tears. In a final deliciously cynical ironic coda, his crippled bride says “how sweet these apple blossom are, won’t they always remind you?” Von Stroheim can only interject “yes, always” while thinking of his lost love crying amongst the throng. And this is just one memorable scene amongst many. We have the opening satirical swipe at the aristocracy in their bedrooms, the immortal apple blossom love scene to Strauss, the incredibly salacious and dizzying orgy sequence to Lizst’s ‘Hungarian Rhapsody’, Mitzi praying inside St Stephen’s cathedral to Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’, the ornate detail of the two tone Technicolor pageant scenes and the final fateful shot of the laughing Iron Man of St Stephen’s hovering over the city like the Grim Reaper. Scenes that no-one who saw them would be able to forget and in many ways the summit of American visual silent cinema.
Much has been made of the look of the film and certainly the photography is shimmering (though the print could do with some restoration, oh for a Kino or Criterion to get their hands on it) and the décor splendorous, with its ornate palaces, authentic beer gardens and cathedral interiors. Much credit must also go to the lead performances; Von Stroheim was never better in a silent role, nailing the multi-named (“I bet you have a name a kilometre long” says Mitzi) aristocratic lover (he had the mannerisms down pat and boy did he love the knee-length military boots) and the then twenty year old Fay Wray is a pictorial beauty in her frail lace and straw hat, a million miles from Scream Queendom. All in all, the greatest silent about romantic loss ever made and, without it, one doubts co-editor Von Sternberg’s later The Scarlet Empress could have been made.
Wow. Haven’t seen The Wedding March. But thanks, Allan, for confirming that I’ve seen the No.! film… Yay!
Cheers!
It’s been a long time since I saw this one, which I bought on VHS back when I was determined to have a big silents collection. Alas, it’s long enough ago that it’s not very fresh in my memory, but I remember being quite impressed with it, and especially with Stroheim’s casting himself against type. In any event, to resume the Stroheim discussion here’s more proof of Hollywood’s ambiguous relationship with the man they loved to hate. After Merry Go Round, after Greed, and after a difficult but lucrative shoot of The Merry Widow, here’s another producer throwing money at him, springing for Technicolor, green-lighting a two-part film. Presuming that Pat Powers was not a fool, his confidence in Stroheim may show that Hollywood accounted for and to an extent normalized his excesses, fitting them into a business model that included editing and was expected to result in profits for the producers. In short, Stroheim had a bankability that survived his disasters, though this film may have marked the true beginning of the end.
Wow, wait a second…
Upon revisiting the nearlies, it looks like October placed way back at #128. That’s a relief: much as I love some of the sequences in that film, I was shocked to see it coming in at #2 or #1. (The reason I miscalculated is that in your review of Strike, you named October as one of that film’s “betters”…)
Have not seen The Wedding March & somehow I overlooked it when predicting your top 10; there’ve been a number of Stroheims and for some reason I thought you’d already acknowledged it, either in the nearlies or the countdown. It’s refreshing to be surprised as I’d settled into thinking I knew what was coming. Brought a grin to my face!
I’m liking your #1 though…unless you pull another fast one on me, ha ha…
I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I said that there would be directors in the top 10 with 2 films a piece and this proves it. I WILL BE TOTALLY SHOCKED IF THE FILM I PREDICT AS NO. 1 DOESNT TURN UP! THE WEDDING MARCH is another tremendous film that defines the brilliance of Von Stroheim and Silent Cinema. I saw this one years ago on public television and the experience has never left me. I agree with Allan that Von Stroheim could be (I stress COULD) the greatest cinematic genius of the era (I think he’s one of 5 with Chaplin, Gance, Dreyer and, the big one: MURNAU). This movie just missed my top 15 but, on any given day it could chance its placement. BOB-Please stay away from this thread. This film is INCOMPLETE, we would want you contracting a rash by associating with butchery!
ALLAN-If you see this, give me a call. Its Saturday night, 708pm in the States. My number is 201 658 4565-Dennis
I’d gone to bed. Sorry, Dennis. If you want me to call you, email me, it’s the easiest way as I pick them up quicker than comments on the site.
This actually looks better than Greed. Was it butchered as well?
The Wedding March itself wasn’t butchered, but itr was originally only part one of a two part film. Part two, The Honeymoon, was never released in the US, only in Europe, and the last copies were destroyed in WWII air raids.
A great work, so is this essay.