Don Juan (1926)

Monday August 7, 7:00pm The Paramount Theater

The Actor…

"I want you all to remember one thing. No matter what I may say, no matter what I may do, on this stage, during our work, I love you all."

He was considered by many the greatest actor of his generation. Ethel Barrymore described her brother’s melancholy Dane in reverent tones,"… Jack’s native genius, gave him a supreme confidence that resulted in the Hamlet that the world will not forget." In his youth John Barrymore showed little interest in acting and set out instead to be an artist. He fell back on the family trade as an easy way to earn a living. The lasting impression of Barrymore in film is that of a pompous buffoon, in a constant state of inebriation, chasing every skirt that passed his way. As his renowned brilliance on the boards fades from memory, only his films remain. Of those, Barrymore’s later work in the sound era is far better known today. The smothering presence of his Svengali (1931) did justice to Trilby, while Grand Hotel (1932) and Dinner at Eight (1934) merely added his name to a star-studded cast.

Two films in particular stand out at the end of Barrymore’s career. Howard Hawks brilliant, Twentieth Century (1934), with over-the-top and irresistible Carole Lombard, shows Barrymore in his element, as the has-been ham and jilted Broadway director of an equally overbearing actress he’s determined to win back.
George Cukor and all the pretentious opulence of an MGM production couldn’t save the absurd production of Romeo and Juliet (1936) starring elderly teenagers Mrs. Thalberg (Norma Shearer) and Leslie Howard. Casting Barrymore as Mercutio was utterly ridiculous but completely appropriate under the circumstances. The bitter, sarcastic bellowing of an old man playing a youth is impressively heartbreaking, hilarious in a way the Bard could never have imagined, and the one saving grace in this expensive disaster. It is tragically, his only Shakespeare on film.

"…above everything in the world, I love the theater, and the charming people in it."

The Movie …

"Love lent my feet wings."

With triumphant stage productions of Richard III in 1920 and Hamlet in 1922 behind him, John Barrymore entered a period almost exclusively devoted to work in films. Beau Brummel in 1924 was followed by the first of two films based on Mellville’s Moby Dick, The Sea Beast (1926). As he hit his stride and entered the most stable point in his turbulent career Barrymore appeared in his greatest silent role, Don Juan (1926).
As an action hero, he invites comparison to the vastly superior Douglas Fairbanks. The strength of Barrymore’s performance lies in the droll and devilish humor of Don Juan de Marana. As his father in the prologue, Don Jose (Barrymore) indulges his lust with a virtual harem of beautiful women, and the apple falls not so far from the tree! Don Juan is introduced in the most amusing scene, as he and his servant Pedrillo (Willard Louis) successfully juggle several pursuant beauties and cleverly deceive a jealous husband.
The first family of crime, the infamous Borgias, appear in all their sinister decadence as Cesare (Warner Oland) and his poisonous sister Lucrezia (Estelle Taylor) recline in their palace before a beautifully realized bacchanalian feast. There are constant reminders of the pleasure they take in their devious evil doings (the arrival and handling of a Borgia invitation sent to Juan is quite amusing). The House of Borgia serves as support for the primary villain, Count Giano Donati (Montague Love), a lecherous monster determined to force himself on Adriana della Varnese (Mary Astor), the latest object of Juan’s affections.
Considered broad and wildly overdone, even in 1926, Don Juan is briskly paced, tinged with humor, sexual escapades and swashbuckling action. Barrymore was never more entertaining, until he spoke!

Viewers of this film should note the number of amorous dalliances in which Don Juan engages, and then consider the even more sorted story behind the scenes!

The Sound …

Don Juan was produced by Warner Brothers and the Vitaphone Corporation as, "...the first commercially released film featuring a recorded musical soundtrack." For the unheard of ticket price of ten dollars the audience was treated to several shorts, showcasing the sound-synchronized performance of music, song and spoken word followed by the feature. After the novelty shorts, the New York audience must have experienced something of a letdown as they listened to a tinny recorded version of what they had become accustomed to hearing as live accompaniment. Where the Vitaphone process paid off was in small and medium-sized markets that rarely used more than a single instrument for accompaniment. Hearing the New York Philharmonic in a one theater town must have seemed wonderful, and certainly furthered the illusion of refined exclusivity just as movies had created the illusion of live theater years before.

An interesting side note …

Dennis James will perform an arrangement based on the original Vitaphone score, which should be magnificent. Dennis recently mentioned one of the many problems found in the early development of sound recording he discovered while making his transcription. The recording studio used for this film was the Manhattan Opera House on 34th Street. It still exists as a center for performance and recording today. In 1926 however, sound recording technology was a primitave trial and error process, and the frequent, inopportune rumbling heard on the original soundtrack is actually the sound of passing subway trains!