A lot of Griffith's shorts around this period were remakes of earlier Biograph films, which just shows how he was constantly trying to refine and rework ideas. This, a retelling of the acclaimed Lonedale Operator, is among the very best.
The gradual development of the acting in Griffith's films was now really beginning to bear fruit. Much has been made of use of props in this film. The props not only help to define character by the way the performers handle them, but they actually set up elements of the story drawing our attention for example to the box of bullets. This is a rare romantic lead role for Wilfred Lucas, seen a year or so earlier blacked up as the slave in His Trust, but he is very good. There's also a bit of comic relief from Walter Long as the snubbed suitor at the very beginning.
There is more speed and complexity to the cutting in The Girl and Her Trust than previous Biograph pictures. Griffith was now experienced enough at setting up spaces and sequencing shots that he could get away with this many angles and set-ups without it looking like a jumbled mess. The result is often exhilarating, and the ride-to-the-rescue really seems to have come of age.
The Girl and Her Trust also features a rare tracking shot. Many have cited the lack of camera movement in Griffith's work as a weakness. After all, they say, cameras had been moving since the early 1900s. But I think Griffith's approach was intentional and informed, and could even be considered a forerunner of the "invisible camera" technique of directors such as John Ford and Joseph Mankiewicz decades later (e.g. no camera movement unless following an actor or key object, so as to focus audience attention on the action, not the technical aspect). Whatever the case, these tracking shots certainly do the trick. It is particularly effective to show the train passing behind trees, posts and buildings, which help give the chase sequence a kind of beat and make it more intense.
What is really special about The Girl and Her Trust though is its tight, even structure. The tranquil beginning establishes the characters, the romantic angle and the possibility that danger may be near. The action then begins with a claustrophobic, "trapped heroin" scenario, which is followed up with the excitement of a chase. In the final moments, both the danger and the romance are resolved and, in perhaps the best closing shot of Griffith's Biograph career, the train backs away from us, the lovers embrace, there is a blast of steam and fade out. Perfect.
The gradual development of the acting in Griffith's films was now really beginning to bear fruit. Much has been made of use of props in this film. The props not only help to define character by the way the performers handle them, but they actually set up elements of the story drawing our attention for example to the box of bullets. This is a rare romantic lead role for Wilfred Lucas, seen a year or so earlier blacked up as the slave in His Trust, but he is very good. There's also a bit of comic relief from Walter Long as the snubbed suitor at the very beginning.
There is more speed and complexity to the cutting in The Girl and Her Trust than previous Biograph pictures. Griffith was now experienced enough at setting up spaces and sequencing shots that he could get away with this many angles and set-ups without it looking like a jumbled mess. The result is often exhilarating, and the ride-to-the-rescue really seems to have come of age.
The Girl and Her Trust also features a rare tracking shot. Many have cited the lack of camera movement in Griffith's work as a weakness. After all, they say, cameras had been moving since the early 1900s. But I think Griffith's approach was intentional and informed, and could even be considered a forerunner of the "invisible camera" technique of directors such as John Ford and Joseph Mankiewicz decades later (e.g. no camera movement unless following an actor or key object, so as to focus audience attention on the action, not the technical aspect). Whatever the case, these tracking shots certainly do the trick. It is particularly effective to show the train passing behind trees, posts and buildings, which help give the chase sequence a kind of beat and make it more intense.
What is really special about The Girl and Her Trust though is its tight, even structure. The tranquil beginning establishes the characters, the romantic angle and the possibility that danger may be near. The action then begins with a claustrophobic, "trapped heroin" scenario, which is followed up with the excitement of a chase. In the final moments, both the danger and the romance are resolved and, in perhaps the best closing shot of Griffith's Biograph career, the train backs away from us, the lovers embrace, there is a blast of steam and fade out. Perfect.