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There are obscure treasures and there are holy grails. Of the latter, none is more mythic than the original 131-minute cut of Orson Welles’s The Magnificent Ambersons, believed by many to be lost somewhere in Brazil. All others arguably belong to Erich von Stroheim. Born in Vienna in 1885 into a Jewish household, von Stroheim is mostly remembered for playing evil Germans in films like Jean Renoir’s Grand Illusion. Cinephiles, though, know him as the unluckiest auteur in the history of cinema.

Intended to run anywhere between six and 10 hours, many of von Stroheim’s films, from Greed to the Gloria Swanson vehicle Queen Kelly, were severely bastardized by studio heads upon their release. In this context, the iris shot that opens 1922’s Foolish Wives feels especially poignant. This is no ordinary “fade into” effect, but an entrancing reinforcement of the sinister, insular, and constrictive nature of the film’s milieu.

Riddle me this: what do the Joker and "Casablanca" have in common? If you answered, "Conrad Veidt," then you've survived the first deathtrap, much like the Dynamic Duo coming out of a cliffhanger ending into the next episode of the 1966 "Batman" TV series.

80 years ago, Veidt received fifth billing in "Casablanca" after Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, and Claude Rains. His movie career, however, dates back even further than that to the silent era. In "The Man Who Laughs," the 1928 silent film helmed by German Expressionist director Paul Leni, Veidt shared top billing with Mary Philbin, and the indelible image of his grinning face left a mark on both movie history and comic book history.

The creation of Batman's greatest nemesis, the Joker, is attributed to writer Bill Finger and artists Bob Kane and Jerry Robinson. Over the years, conflicting accounts arose over who really originated the first idea for the character.

'Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl': Johnny Depp as Capt. Jack Sparrow. 'Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl' review: Mostly an enjoyable romp (Oscar Movie Series) Pirate movies were a Hollywood staple for about three decades, from the mid-'20s (The Sea Hawk, The Black Pirate) to the mid-to-late '50s (Moonfleet, The Buccaneer), when the genre, by then mostly relegated to B films, began to die down. Sporadic resurrections in the '80s and '90s turned out to be critical and commercial bombs (Pirates, Cutthroat Island), something that didn't bode well for the Walt Disney Company's $140 million-budgeted film "adaptation" of one of their theme-park rides. But Neptune's mood has apparently improved with the arrival of the new century. He smiled – grinned would be a more appropriate word – on the Gore Verbinski-directed Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl,...

Even casual horror fans are familiar with the silent Universal classics The Phantom of the Opera and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which starred the legendary “Man of a Thousand Faces” Lon Chaney, Sr. in his two most iconic screen roles. The box-office success of those two films led the studio in 1928 to adapt The Man Who Laughs, a story by Hunchback author Victor Hugo, into one of their first sound productions, with music and sound effects (but no recorded dialog). While Chaney did not return for this one (he was under contract to MGM by that time), the lead role was taken on by another screen legend, Conrad Veidt – best remembered by horror fans as the creepy sleepwalker Cesare in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Just as in Hunchback, the title character here is not technically a “monster,” but a sympathetic figure who happens to be horribly disfigured... but like the grotesque Quasimodo,...

Along with the lineage that can be traced from Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight (2008) back to Paul Leni’s The Man Who Laughs (1928) is the latter’s indelible imprint upon Brian DePalma’s 2006 neo-noir The Black Dahlia, based on James Ellroy’s novel, where mutilation reclaims its destructive thrust as an expressive mask of life’s inequitable if not inevitable horrors.

To synopsize briefly, in The Man Who Laughs—the filmic adaptation of Victor Hugo’s 1869 novel—Gwynplaine (Conrad Veidt), the son of a noble father who has displeased King James II, is turned over to a surgeon, Dr. Hardquannone (George Siegman), associated with a band of ostracized and feared gypsies, the Comprachicos (literally “child-buyers"), for proper punishment: a facial mutilation which leaves him with a permanent and ghastly rictus grin. As a title card states, the King condemns him “to laugh forever at his fool of a father.