FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE Movie Review
1921 Rex Ingram
This landmark silent film will always be known first as Rudolph Valentino's breakthrough, and his star power remains undiminished. At the same time, though, his high-octane sex appeal is put in service to a fairly serious story of war and self sacrifice. Actually, June Mathis's script (based on Vicente Blasco Ibanez's novel) is a yeasty combination of soap opera and history that begins in Argentina and moves to Paris.
Young Julio Desnoyers (Valentino) is grandson of the patriarch Madariaga (Pomeroy Cannon), whose two daughters have married a Frenchman and a German. Julio is the eldest of the French side, who are viewed somewhat scornfully by the Germans. Father Karl (Alan Hale, father of Gilligan's Skipper) pompously states, “One owes his first duty to his Fatherland—that his children may grow up in allegiance with the advantages of superculture.” As soon as Madariaga is out of the picture, Karl claims his half of the inheritance and moves his family back to Berlin. Julio's father Marcelo (Josef Swickard) does the same, taking wife and kids to Paris.
The first half of the film establishes Julio as the toast of the town, a bon vivant who divides his time between artistic dabbling and teaching Parisiennes how to tango. Then he falls in love with Marguerite Lurier (Alice Terry), a married woman, and just when the soapy elements threaten to overtake everything else, the Archduke Ferdinand is assassinated and the film becomes much more serious. To contemporary audiences, some of the character transformations will seem arbitrary or poorly motivated, and many of the conventions of the time are almost nonsensical. The literal personification of the title apparitions—Conquest, War, Pestilence and Death—is overused, but somehow acceptable. The appearance of cute animals (most obviously an irritating monkey) to comment on human action is intrusive.
When he turns to scenes of combat, director Rex Ingram uses a more realistic approach. Perhaps due to his service in the Canadian Royal Flying Corps, Ingram takes the subject seriously. He also brings the various threads of the complicated plot together in an unrealistically neat conclusion. Those criticisms really are unfair. Compared to other films of the times—even something as ambitious as Birth of a Nation—this one stands up well. If the trench warfare scenes aren't as fully realized as some that came later, they are given appropriate dramatic weight in a multi-layered story.
Even a cursory glance at the unfortunate 1962 remake, with Glenn Ford in the Valentino role, demonstrates how a genuine “star” can take over a film. It has little to do with acting, everything to do with intensity. It's widely believed that June Mathis was in love with Valentino and carefully crafted the role to play to his strengths. Director Ingram was married to Alice Terry, so both of the key people behind the camera did all they could to help their paramours on the other side.
Cast: Rudolph Valentino (Julio Desnoyers), Alice Terry (Marguerite Lurier), Pomeroy Cannon (Madariaga), Josef Swickard (Marcelo Desnoyers), Alan Hale (Karl von Hartrott), Mabel van Buren (Elena), Nigel de Brulier (Tchernoff), Bowditch Turner (Argensola), Wallace Beery (Lt. Col. von Richthoffen), Bridgetta Clark (Dona Luisa), Virginia Warwick (Chichi), Stuart Holmes (Capt. von Hartrott), John St. Polis (Etienne), Mark Fenton (Senator Lacour), Derek Ghent (Rene Lacour); Written by: June Mathis; Cinematography by: John Seitz; Music by: Louis F. Gottschalk. Producer: Metro. Awards: National Film Registry ‘95. Running Time: 110 minutes. Format: VHS.