Greed
Eric von Stroheim (1924)
This is one of the most notorious cases of butchery by a Hollywood studio in cinema history. As a result of what MGM did, most of what Eric von Stroheim intended for the screen is lost. What remains in this version screened by BFI is slightly more than two of the eight hours that von Stroheim wanted audiences to see[1]. There are moments when the narrative seems disjointed and you naturally suspect that the studio’s cuts are to blame. The balance of power in the marriage between the protagonist John McTeague and the lottery winner Trina shifts abruptly: the shy bride develops a forceful personality in the blink of an eyelid. My eyes were closed for longer than that during their courtship so I may be wrong about this. I was wide awake, though, when the unhappy couple’s downward spiral is well advanced and Trina takes a job as a kindergarten cleaner: it’s puzzling as to why, once the kids have gone home, she looks to have the large, apparently comfortable premises to herself. What MGM did may be unforgivable but it would be hypocritical of me to pretend that I wish Greed had gone on for another six hours. Indeed, it’s hard to imagine, given the scale of the story in what survives, how it could have done so. Even so, this is a very remarkable film.
Greed is the tale of a trio of differently greedy characters. The third is Marcus Schouler, from whom McTeague steals Trina and who resolves to revenge the loss of his girl and her money. Even I am unlikely to forget the final scene in Death Valley. Mac releases the caged bird which has been part of his life throughout his marriage: the freed bird flies just a few yards before it falls dead. The final desolate image is of Mac’s dead horse and of its owner handcuffed to the corpse of Marcus, and condemned to die with him in the desert. Greed was adapted by von Stroheim (with intertitles by June Mathis) from the novel McTeague by Frank Norris, published in 1899 – although the action in the film runs from 1908 to 1923. The story concentrates on a small number of characters and includes many scenes of limited domestic life but the cautionary tale is told with such intensity that the movie, even at two hours, feels epic. The tone is far from unrelievedly grim: there are some funny visual details in the early stages, like the uncouth Marcus picking his ears and nose, or Trina’s little brothers misbehaving and getting mild corporal punishment in return. The emotional variety of the wedding sequences is dazzling. We see (but the people on screen don’t see) a funeral procession going past in the street outside the window of the building in which the marriage ceremony is taking place. The gorging at the wedding breakfast is spectacularly disgusting and throws into relief the gross physicality of the characters (and the obesity of a good few of them).
Eric von Stroheim’s powers of vivid realisation are sustained regardless of the physical scale of the setting, whether it’s Death Valley or a cramped and claustrophobic room. There are brilliant dream sequences, especially one in which skeletal long arms grasp, almost wash themselves in a hoard of coins – this picks up the valuable muck of the gold mine where McTeague is working at the start of the film. Except for the occasional discontinuities mentioned above, the storytelling is very clear (and the intertitles in silent films always help you to know what’s going on). Gibson Gowland as McTeague is gradually more powerful as the film progresses and Jean Hersholt is good as his nemesis Marcus. I liked Zasu Pitts as Trina in the early scenes. Once Trina’s transformation into a grasping termagant is complete, though, Pitts seems to settle into silent movie acting of a more outdated kind. Carl Davis’s score (composed, I guess, during the 1980s) has some good bits but is probably more effective in a larger theatre than NFT2. The music was sometimes overpowering in that small space – and often redundant. Von Stroheim’s images don’t need this kind of assistance.
20 August 2012
[1] The Wikipedia article mentions a ‘239 minutes (restored) version’ but there’s nothing to suggest that this is extant.