Zasu Pitts in Lazybones, Borzage, 1925
Watch a sufficient number of silent films—particularly in a block—and you do get a renewed sense of how silent cinema represents an art form that’s almost completely distinct from the sound film. In a really beautifully made silent, you get the sense of the camera noticing more—certain nuances of gesture, movement. Bresson, I think, tried to recapture some of this “knowledge” with his particular cinematic strategies—closeups of hands and feet, and such. It’s something I really love about silents, something I think contributes greatly to the almost mystic quality I find in many of my favorites.
Another thing I love about silent movies is Zasu Pitts. I write about her eloquence of gesture, and how beautifully it’s captured in Frank Borzage’s Lazybones, over at The Auteurs’ Notebook.
I agree; but I think this quality emerges far more easily when you shut off the accompanying music altogether. I was forced to do this once when I attended a Murnau double feature which – to my surprise – including no musical accompaniment. To my further surprise, I was completely engrossed and immersed in the cinematic experience, and in a very different way than I’d ever been before.
Well, like a great man once said, the best art is measured by its limitations.