Eschewing the epic grandeur of his previous works like Birth Of A Nation and Intolerance, Broken Blossoms is an exquisitely crafted tragedy from D.W. Griffith. Whilst perhaps not his most important film, it could very possibly be his most perfect.
Heartwarming and heartbreaking in equal measure, it is the story of an all too brief innocent love between two broken souls amongst unbearable poverty and brutality. Richard Barthelmess plays Chen (The Yellow Man), a noble soul full of peace and love who, as the film opens, leaves his homeland to spread the word of Buddha to "white barbarians" in England. However, the film cuts forward a few years and we find Chen living amidst the squalor of Londons docklands. His hope crushed by the drudgery and vice that surrounds him he flits between his small shop and an opium den where he loses himself in gambling and drugs.
There is, however, one ray of light. Lucy (Liilian Gish), an illegitimate fifteen year old girl who suffers daily abuse at the hands of her brutal, prizefighting father (Donald Crisp). Unable to smile after years of torment, she shuffles through the streets past Chens window everyday, stopping at the opposite shop to look at the flowers she longs to be able to afford. When she returns home she is treated like a slave in constant fear of her fathers wrath. One night he goes goes too far and beats her to within an inch of her life. She manages to crawl out of her hovel only to collapse inside Chens doorway. Their fate is now set. He treats her with the gentleness that she has never known whilst she reignites the innocence in his heart. Yet, tragedy inevitably looms.
Such was the power of the romantic partnership Richard Barthelmess and Lillian Gish, they were to be drawn together again by Griffith in the following years Way Down East. Although modern audiences may raise eyebrows at the thought of an American actor playing a Chinese immigrant, these things must be seen in the context of their day. Besides, Barthelmess, with his slender good looks and sad eyes, perfectly captures the starved yearnings of Chen whilst the tenderness of his character is captured in his slow, graceful movements.
Yet it is Lillian Gish who is the revelation. Already a well known star under the guidance of Griffith, she raised the bar for screen acting to extraordinary heights in Broken Blossoms and once and for all confirmed herself as the greatest actress of the silent era; light years ahead of her contemporaries. Just watching her in this film is like watching a lesson in screen acting. Not a gesture is wasted as she haunts the mazey alleyways of East London whilst in dreamlike soft focus close up she radiates beauty and charm through her grimy, downtrodden appearance. Her final screen moments capture perhaps the defining image of defiance in the face of adversity.
Besides the groundbreaking acting, I could recommend Broken Blossoms for so many different reasons. The soft camera-work gives procedures an ethereal, dream like quality whilst the framing of both close-ups and the interior sets is exemplary. Almost every frame drips with care and attention to detail. The film also riffs numerously on dark wit and irony. At one point a zealous minister tells Chen that his brother "leaves for China tomorrow to convert the heathen" whilst later a policeman talks of "only 40,000 casualties this week" in a reference to the Great War. On top of this there is the brave representation inter-racial love and subsequent all destroying racism. Similarly the brutal scenes of child abuse ("Please daddy, don't") are terrifying as Lucy cowers in the corner begging for mercy.
This film really is a complete work from one of the masters of American cinema at his very peak. If Birth Of A Nation showed the World the vast possibilities of this still new art form, then Broken Blossoms proved it could have a soul too.
Heartwarming and heartbreaking in equal measure, it is the story of an all too brief innocent love between two broken souls amongst unbearable poverty and brutality. Richard Barthelmess plays Chen (The Yellow Man), a noble soul full of peace and love who, as the film opens, leaves his homeland to spread the word of Buddha to "white barbarians" in England. However, the film cuts forward a few years and we find Chen living amidst the squalor of Londons docklands. His hope crushed by the drudgery and vice that surrounds him he flits between his small shop and an opium den where he loses himself in gambling and drugs.
There is, however, one ray of light. Lucy (Liilian Gish), an illegitimate fifteen year old girl who suffers daily abuse at the hands of her brutal, prizefighting father (Donald Crisp). Unable to smile after years of torment, she shuffles through the streets past Chens window everyday, stopping at the opposite shop to look at the flowers she longs to be able to afford. When she returns home she is treated like a slave in constant fear of her fathers wrath. One night he goes goes too far and beats her to within an inch of her life. She manages to crawl out of her hovel only to collapse inside Chens doorway. Their fate is now set. He treats her with the gentleness that she has never known whilst she reignites the innocence in his heart. Yet, tragedy inevitably looms.
Such was the power of the romantic partnership Richard Barthelmess and Lillian Gish, they were to be drawn together again by Griffith in the following years Way Down East. Although modern audiences may raise eyebrows at the thought of an American actor playing a Chinese immigrant, these things must be seen in the context of their day. Besides, Barthelmess, with his slender good looks and sad eyes, perfectly captures the starved yearnings of Chen whilst the tenderness of his character is captured in his slow, graceful movements.
Yet it is Lillian Gish who is the revelation. Already a well known star under the guidance of Griffith, she raised the bar for screen acting to extraordinary heights in Broken Blossoms and once and for all confirmed herself as the greatest actress of the silent era; light years ahead of her contemporaries. Just watching her in this film is like watching a lesson in screen acting. Not a gesture is wasted as she haunts the mazey alleyways of East London whilst in dreamlike soft focus close up she radiates beauty and charm through her grimy, downtrodden appearance. Her final screen moments capture perhaps the defining image of defiance in the face of adversity.
Besides the groundbreaking acting, I could recommend Broken Blossoms for so many different reasons. The soft camera-work gives procedures an ethereal, dream like quality whilst the framing of both close-ups and the interior sets is exemplary. Almost every frame drips with care and attention to detail. The film also riffs numerously on dark wit and irony. At one point a zealous minister tells Chen that his brother "leaves for China tomorrow to convert the heathen" whilst later a policeman talks of "only 40,000 casualties this week" in a reference to the Great War. On top of this there is the brave representation inter-racial love and subsequent all destroying racism. Similarly the brutal scenes of child abuse ("Please daddy, don't") are terrifying as Lucy cowers in the corner begging for mercy.
This film really is a complete work from one of the masters of American cinema at his very peak. If Birth Of A Nation showed the World the vast possibilities of this still new art form, then Broken Blossoms proved it could have a soul too.