#Sorrell & Son
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Now we come to the Best Director category. Like quite a few categories that year, the Academy still seemed to be finding their feet. They divided up Best Director into two categories, one for Best Dramatic Picture and one for Best Comedy Picture, not unlike how the Golden Globes eventually ended up dividing some of their categories. I’m sure they soon realized that some years this wouldn’t have ended up feasible, for while there’s always a ton of great dramatic films each year, it’s much harder to find good comedies. It’s much harder to make someone laugh then make someone cry. I will stand by this no matter what anyone says.
The first picture nominated in the category was Sorrell and Son, directed by Herbert Brenon. Maddeningly, as much as I scoured the internet, I was unable to find a copy of it anywhere, though the Academy Film Archive is said to have a partially restored print. Someone tell them to get that out on a DVD and for download toot-sweet!
So that takes us to the other picture nominated that year: The Crowd. As finding a copy of this film on the net is an exercise in maddeningly ever getting closer to the edge of the abyss while you tear your hair out, I’ve included a link for it above. Now, I am all for paying money to watch films in a legal format and supporting good films that way, but that’s only if they’re actually available. But TCM, who runs this movie occasionally, has not done so, so I was forced to watch the pirated version. I feel no shame in telling you to do the same.
The Crowd is an All-American tale of a young man named John who moves to the big city with the intent of making it big. He wants to be a somebody that people will remember as his late father always wanted him to be. Rather hard in New York City, where there’s millions of people right along side you who want the same thing. Now, The Crowd managed to make this picture feel larger-then-life by filming right on the streets of NYC, sometimes covertly for crowd scenes. You get a sense of just how massive the place is as people stream about going from place to place. The camera has large, sweeping shots all over the place, as well as a lot of tracking shots, a style which would be lost for quite some time due to the limitations that sound pictures would soon present.
Now, just to get the elephant out of the room right away, there are a few moments in the picture where black actors are portrayed in the title cards to have the “black minstrel accent”, examples like ‘Did I hear you-all speakin’ ’bout havin’ yo’ bed made up?’ and ‘I detend to be a preacher man! Hallelujah!’ There’s also a moment you might cringe as the token black boy in John’s childhood town is nicknamed Whitey. So if you’re a bit sensitive to these things, which are somewhat common in this silent era, turn it off or fast-forward a bit. Remember, not everything in the past conforms to today’s standards. To be fair, in a nice bit of solidarity, Whitey is shown to be playing with the white children of the neighborhood without being ostracized or shown to be anymore comical then any of the other little boys, a scene that would begin to be lost as films progressed. Alright, with that out of the way, time to move onto the rest of the picture.
As usually happens in these kinds of pictures, he finds a nice girl named Mary, and they soon marry, with his best friend cynically saying it’ll last maybe a year. Despite her disapproving brothers and mother, and a few small squabbles, the two weather the storm together, and soon Mary is pregnant. They have a boy and then soon a little girl some time later. The picture skips ahead five years and everything is going along alright.
The family is at the beach on a picnic and their characters are laid out nicely for us: Mary is trying her best to make the picnic nice while John sits there lackadaisically playing a ukulele instead of contributing any help at all. When Mary asks him why he hasn’t gotten anywhere in his company, he protests it takes time. But based on what we’ve seen thus far between young John blowing off his studies to go on a date with Mary, then blowing off spending time with Mary’s family to get drunk with Bert, and this idea of letting his wife do all the work while he futzes around, it comes off more like he’s just lazy. She points out his best friend Bert has gotten somewhere and again he protests that rubbing elbows with the big bosses will get you anywhere. Well…yeah, and what’s wrong with that? A little hard work plus kissing up to the bosses never hurt anyone in my opinion.
But things seem to be turning around for the family as John, who keeps sending in slogan after slogan to contests that will select them as the new one for their brand finally wins a bit of money in the form of $500. ( That’s $7,345.99 in today’s money, people!) They happily pay off debts, buy a new dress for Mary, and buy new toys for their children. They excitedly tell them to come inside and that’s when tragedy strikes. In a masterful series of shots that hype up the tension by never showing us the actual moment of impact, their little girl is struck and badly injured by a truck.
The scene fades to a sad one as the little girl starts to slip away. Small wonder that John seems to lose it a little bit, hyperfixating on the idea that if it’s just quiet enough, she’ll get well. He goes all the way to running into the crowded streets of the city, battling against the crowd and futilely trying to get them and the fire trucks to be quiet. There’s a wonderful parallel here as the crowd which was once a source of inspiration and happiness has now turned cold and unfeeling, with a policeman flat-out telling him that the world isn’t going to stop just because his baby is sick.
The little girl dies, and in a scene full of pathos that never goes over the top, we see Mary and John in the throes of grief, both trying to be comforted by their family and failing. What happens next is best summed up by the title card: “The crowd laughs with you always… but it will cry with you for only a day.” John can’t focus on his work anymore and quits his job. This proves to be a dumb mistake as he then spends his time getting jobs and losing them just as quickly. This would be eerily prescient for the Americans watching this film, soon to be plunged into the Great Depression. By the time the story picks back up, they’ve moved to a small, dingy house, Mary is forced to take in sewing to make ends meet in addition to all her other work, and their poor firstborn son Junior is completely neglected.
Mary’s brothers sum it up nicely when they bitingly ask John if he plans to go on a vacation from life for the rest of his life. At this point, I started to lose my sympathies for John a bit. He just sits around in a daze, which is understandable, but in the meantime, his wife is holding the family together by taking on the lion’s share of the work. To contrast, while he’s throwing a fit and impulsively quitting his job, she’s busy making a feast for the company picnic while still in the throes of her own grief. As I’m sure all of you well know who have lost any beloved family member, life doesn’t stop just to let you spend your days grieving. Eventually, you have to get back out there and try.
Then comes the part in the picture where I wanted to smack him. Mary’s brothers say they’ll give him a job, but he refuses, saying it’s a “charity job.” This comes from a 2019 perspective, and I’m sure things were different ninety-one years ago, but this seems to me to stink with a bit of toxic masculinity. So it’s “charity” to take a job from relatives because of your stinking pride but sitting on your ass day after day moping is what…heroically supporting your family? Men have their pride, but they also have families that need to eat. Mary rightfully calls him out on this stupid line of thinking and slaps him, saying she almost wishes he were dead.
Junior follows his father as he walks around town depressed. He considers killing himself by jumping off a bridge but then reconsiders. After all, what’s the point? The shots here of the train and bridge are beautifully done. Junior, the poor little neglected son, finally breaks through to his father by telling him he believes in him. This finally snaps John back into action. He looks all over town for a job, eventually finding one as a clown wearing a sandwich board who juggles. It’s a contrast to the start of the picture when he made fun of just such a man with the same job when they were on a date.
But it appears to be too late, as when he returns, Mary seems set on departing with her brothers and taking Junior with her, even after he reveals he’s gotten a job. It’s a very tender scene, and at the end of it, Mary can’t do it. She stays with her husband and her brothers exasperatedly toss her luggage onto the porch when it becomes clear she’s not coming. The picture ends with the family attending a vaudeville show and seeing John’s winning slogan from earlier in the program. The shot fades out into a masterfully done tracking shot, pulling back from the little family we’ve followed until once again, they are lost in the crowd of people that make up the audience.
Now with such a good picture done about ordinary people, it is a bit of a headscratcher as to how it didn’t win a single award that year at the Oscars, though even I will admit the eventual winner was a smidge better. However, it makes a little more sense when you discover Louis B. Mayer, head of MGM, hated the picture and vocally urged his fellow members at the Academy not to vote for it, which honestly might have caused it to lose in both categories that it was nominated in. Small wonder, with the country going into the Depression five months after the awards ceremony, that people didn’t want to see movies with downer endings. Honestly, by today’s standards, it seems pretty optimistic, but back then, it was a bit of a bummer to see the family still struggling.
King Vidor was actually forced to shoot anywhere between reportedly seven to nine alternate different endings so that theaters could choose which one they wanted to show. To quote IMDB, one of the alternate endings was “set in a mansion showing John and Mary by a glittering Christmas tree. John has become a success at writing ad slogans. Mary’s new dialogue title was to read: ‘Honest, Johnny, way down deep in my heart, I never lost faith in you for a minute.'” Overwhelmingly, the theaters still showed the original ending, which says something about how people viewed it despite the negativity the ending might have stirred up.
Best Director, Dramatic Picture 1929: King Vidor for The Crowd and Herbert Brenon for Sorrell and Son Now we come to the Best Director category. Like quite a few categories that year, the Academy still seemed to be finding their feet.
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Monday Morning Mystery!
In 1927, a childhood Vaudeville friend of Buster Keaton remembered a promise the young comedian had made. Apparently, young Buster had dreams of becoming a theater owner, and he vowed to his friend that he would let him use his future venue when they grew up.
Keaton never got his theater, but he did get a studio. When Herbert Brenon started filming "Sorrell & Son" he needed additional space and Buster offered his studio to his old friend. Portions of the film were indeed filmed at Keaton Studio on Lillian Way.
"Sorrell & Son" was thought to be lost, however an incomplete copy (missing the last reel) was discovered and restored. It is the property of AMPAS and has been rarely shown.
We know that Buster often made uncredited appearances in films made by his friends (Baby Cyclone, Tide of Empire, The Iron Mule) - so did Buster "pop in" to his own studio during the filming of "Sorrell & Son," perhaps do a little stuntwork or a few pratfalls? I've never seen the film, nor know anyone who has, so I wonder if any Keatoniacs have scanned this almost-lost gem for a Buster moment?
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