La virgen de Estambul

To watch the city that you live in, some 90 years past... To see it before the very next page in history was turned... To see the way how your ancestors were viewed and perceived by other cultures/people/artists again some 90 years past... To observe how their lives and points of view were depicted in a piece of art, somehow stereotypically and wrongly at that. All these aspects, in and of themselves, made this one film a very valuable experience and an important premise. To see a movie of the silent movies era, a movie 90 years prior, and the first movie to be produced in the city, was also beyond joy.

The movie, though, was not without some major misconceptions and conveniences. For instance, to ride a camel from the Arabian deserts to Istanbul appeared to be a very easy task indeed, as if one was just next door to the other. Run and chase sequences were shot as if this was an Oriental Western, a contradiction in itself. Customs and traditions of a people were again somewhat exaggerated or bent a little bit here and there so as to fit the flow of the movie. Last but not least, the physical struggles between the characters were either exaggerated in one scene or downplayed in another so as to achieve a desirable result, which made the movie a bit funnier when compared to some of its contemporary counterparts.

All in all, though, it was still a great joy to see this movie, knowing full well that such discrepancies and prejudices were to be expected, and that I may never ever get another chance to see it elsewhere. In the end, this was the early 1920s -in fact, 1920 itself- and the movie was one of the earlier examples of an art form just blossoming, an example which was conceived some 3 km away from my house, but nearly a century ago, at that. Well, what else could I have asked for?

"The Virgin of Stamboul" (1920) is a marvelous Tod Browning directed film starring Priscilla Dean, Wheeler Oakman, Wallace Beery and many others. This was Browning's fifth directorial outing with Dean (there were nine altogether), his second with Oakman (there were three altogether), and first with Beery (two more followed). Here we watch the "Oriental nastiness" that possibly can occur in Stamboul when the chief wife in a large harem of Sheik Achmet Hamid commits adultery with an American. Sheik Achmet swiftly knifes the American when he catches his wife in the embrace of her lover, then casts off his wife to go out into the street on her own. Wallace Beery is perfectly cast as the Sheik, showing only lust throughout the film and not a redeeming characteristic about him. Meanwhile, we've been introduced to another American, seemingly a foreign service officer who has been allowed to come into the city from his desert troopings to conduct some business. He meets Sari (Dean), a street waif, a beggar, who is a wild child of the street, with few scruples, but one who has only one wish - to be able to visit inside the mosque, and there to learn how to pray! Of course, no women are allowed in the mosque, for, women have no souls! This is the set up for the rest of the film. Only now, Sheik Achmet Hamid goes on the lookout, the prowl, for a replacement for his former chief wife. He's already seen the "desert lily" Sari before, and now he lusts after her, only so does the American, the officer, Wheeler Oakman - - - and she seemingly for the American officer, too.

The photography by William Fildew (he collaborated with Browning as cinematographer eleven times) is simply gorgeous! There is a constancy of nearly claustrophobic clusters of people and buildings in crowded streets and clubs and places of business that will seem almost noirish to any who love the film noir cinema of the late 30s, early 40s, all the way into early 1950s. It captures well the American idea of what the center of Constantinople, Stamboul, Turkey had to have been like in 1920. Stamboul was the name which represented the central part of Constantinople until the middle 1930s when the Turkish name, Istanbul, was finally formally chosen to be the name of the entire city.

This set up, so to speak, for the rest of the film is a beautifully done introduction, and takes up nearly one-half of the entire film as it remains. Yes, there are a number of missing frames, even parts of some scenes. There is one scene in particular, though, that remains - a scene of birds being shooed from a roof, all of which come down right on Priscilla Dean who wonderfully laughs off the entire entourage of beautiful desert birds, many of which have landed on her shoulders and in her hands. She even kisses one over and over, lips to beak!! It's a superb scene, and Dean is spectacular in it, all of it filmed like a dreamlike sequence. It doesn't have anything to do with the plot, but it adds immeasurably to the pleasure of the film.

Now the film begins, and from here on out the plot is nothing more than a "B" Western in a Middle Eastern setting, or, as the film says, "East versus West". Oakman versus Beery - and Dean as the prize. If you were to be curious how Browning would have filmed a Western per se, this is how he would have done it, only it would probably have John Ford settings and cinematography, but closed in with some psychological/possibly horror plot that makes the scenery tertiary to the characters and plot, not an addition.

The finale to "The Virgin of Stamboul" is a fight to the finish with troopers fighting with the Sheik's men, nothing more than cowboys versus the Indians, and it is almost pat as plot, but it is really fun to watch, worthy of popcorn and soda on the spot. As much as Beery in particular, but also Oakman, lead the plot to a conclusion, and are really good at their parts, Priscilla Dean is so fun to watch as to make the viewer wish she were in all the scenes all the time. She's fabulous! A great actress whose career petered out by the beginning of the 30s, she'd been an actress basically from her birth: both her parents were stage actors, and she made her first films when she was only 14. She's always a pleasure to watch. It's only a shame that more of her films don't survive. Very few do.

There's something to be said from the very start that this film occupies that dubious space of American culture wherein far-flung societies are considered "exotic," and not just romanticized but effectively fetishized as a novelty to be patronizingly ogled. Extra flowery language in intertitles can be a boon for silent pictures, but when it's used to heighten the mythos of "foreign lands," it just feels tawdry. This is to say nothing of emphatic oversimplification of ways of life outside the American purview, nor the casting of white actors as characters who are ostensibly Turkish. None of these faults are exclusive to 'The virgin of Stamboul,' nor to early cinema at large, sadly, yet no matter the magnanimity with which one might say "it's a product of its time," that doesn't make it any better. Watching this requires that we first acknowledge the fundamental issues with its storytelling and film-making, and keep those in mind as we otherwise try to enjoy and assess the picture on its own merits.

Supposing one can compartmentalize these issues there's much to appreciate here, though the feature remains a mixed bag in others regards. I don't think there's any disputing how much hard work went into the excellent production design and art direction, and the costume design is surely just as lovely. These facets may actually be the most admirable parts of all, in fact. I won't be as quick to praise the hair and makeup artists, considering the sordid use of brownface (including for actor E. Alyn Warren, who was also dressed in yellowface for contemporary title 'Outside the law'), but I guess they can only complete the task that was assigned to them. I don't know how much I can praise editor Viola Lawrence, either, nor the producers: between curt editing and a flagrantly unnatural projection speed, these minutes gallop past so swiftly that one is forced to artificially modify the playback speed (70% might suffice) just to engage with the movie on a basic level. Yet I think William Fildew's cinematography is capable, and Tod Browning's direction, with some examples of both being extra well done.

I believe the cast turn in fine performances, demonstrating solid nuance and range, including Priscilla Dean above all. It's unfortunate that the actors' contributions are shortchanged by overzealous editing that rather chops up what we see of their work. Regrettably, this somewhat goes for the storytelling, too, as the communication of Browning and William Parker's tale is far less than perfect. The brusque editing and poor pacing both dampen and distract from plot development that's already less than totally concrete. I don't think 'The virgin of Stamboul' does a good job of establishing characters, nor their relationships to each other or otherwise place in the narrative. Even the setting is very weakly conveyed, I think, in terms of time, place, and sociopolitical conditions, and some story beats and ideas are presented too meekly to be cemented in our consciousness. And as if all this weren't enough, it's decidedly heavy-handed in its condemnation of the status of women in "Stamboul" (that is, Constantinople, or Istanbul) - a statement that isn't inaccurate, perhaps, but nevermind that at the time this movie was released in the United States women still didn't have the right to vote, among other such domestic social issues.

By all means, Browning is and should be remembered as an icon in the early years of the film industry, and many of the pictures he gave us were splendid. Even the very best filmmakers can make missteps, however, and in many ways I think this is one of Browning's. Competent in some technical capacities, overcooked in others; playing with notable or possibly commendable themes, but often without tact or mindfulness; showcasing some terrific work carried out behind the scenes, alongside some damnable instances; hamstringing a cast who do broadly give good performances: 'The virgin of Stamboul' is all this and more. It's still arguably worth checking out, yet that might be more as a teachable moment than as a reflection of its value; among too many other flaws, irritatingly inarticulate writing and the realization thereof make this a bit of a chore to watch.

There are certainly worse ways to spend one's time, yet unless you're a diehard Browning devotee - even for avid cinephiles, and those enamored of the silent era, this is a lesser creation. I feel bad even saying that considering the labor that did go into it, and those specific bits that are themselves superb (e.g. The efforts of the crew, particular moments of cinematography or direction), but again, there are myriad problems that distinctly diminish what it could have been. There are good reasons to watch 'The virgin of Stamboul' - only, there are also very good reasons not to, to the point that I wonder if I'm not being too lenient.

When emir Wallace Beery spies one of his wives having an affair with an American, he kills him and casts her aside. To replace her, he chooses Priscilla Dean, a street dancer whose fiery temperament an desire to worship in Hagia Sophia -- which is forbidden to women -- excites his unspeakable lust. Miss Dean is also loved by American Wheeler Oakman, and the plot, filled with camels, henchmen with blades, and similar exotic paraphernalia, proceeds on its way.

It's a Universal Jewel production, which means it was one of their major pictures, and as Miss Dean's fifth collaboration with Tod Browning, it clearly spares little expense in costuming and set design. It's a lot of fun, and it's a pleasure to see Miss Dean with her new husband, Oakman, whose looks reminded me of John Wayne. While Miss Dean's career was over by the mid-1930s, Oakman continued to work, half the time with no screen credit, often as a henchman. He died in 1949, aged 59.