Nemye svideteli

If you ask me there is nothing in the world more precious than cats, but a close second is the preservation of culture, including silent films of any variety. Alongside other early masters like Georges Méliès and D. W. Griffith, Yevgeni Bauer developed film-making techniques that helped to shape cinema all the way through to modern extravaganzas like Damien Chazelle's 'Babylon,' or the Daniels' 'Everything everywhere all at once.' His pictures of now over 100 years ago are simple by today's standards, yet the new medium offered another art form to explore and new storytelling possibilities - such as 'Silent witnesses,' touching upon the dynamics between upper class masters and their common servants and staff in tsarist Russia of the early twentieth century. The picture is a time capsule and an examination of society as much as it is entertainment, and despite stark differences owing to how movies have changed over the years, it is as equally deserving now as it was so long ago.

Camera placement, and the precise manner in which a shot or scene is orchestrated, can be as important and informative as the action or dialogue that fills it. This is as true of paintings as it is of theater, and Bauer demonstrates most keenly that he understood how it also applies to cinema. Contrast between light and shadow, background and foreground, movement of actors around each other or objects in the scene - all this and more feeds into the nuance of developing a narrative, no less so than the facial expressions and body language of the skilled actors whose visages greet us. At so early a time in the film industry performances tended to be characterized by especially grandiose comportment, following from practices on the stage and in compensation for the lack of sound, but still I think the cast shows strong acting ability that in some capacity is more subtle and natural, and therefore somewhat advanced for a 1914 feature. Add to this the (relatively) modest but fetching sets, and note the comparative paucity of intertitles to provide exposition or dialogue, and it's readily evident just how essential firm, steady direction was to bringing the movie together. Bauer is more than up to the task, however, with shrewd mindfulness for both film-making craft and storytelling prudence.

It's perhaps worth observing that as the construction here is so far removed from what modern viewers may be familiar with, those who have difficulties engaging with the silent era won't find anything here to change their mind. It is those who are already enamored with the timeframe who will get the most out of 'Silent witnesses,' and more than that, perhaps those ardent cinephiles who can admire the craftsmanship as much as the tale. This is especially true since I think this might be an instance in which the former distinctly supersedes the latter: by all means there is a definite story here, and it's a worthy one, yet I'm unsure if the picture is as successful in communicating that story as it is in illustrating the fundamental skill set of all who contributed to it. Intertitles following the opening credits introduce a small handful of specific characters and their actors, but not each and every one; for relative lack of intertitles throughout to elucidate the plot, we are left with images alone to discern the course of events. Thus, the broad strokes of the screenplay written by Aleksandr Voznesenskii are suitably conveyed, but detail is lost as it's not always totally clear who a character is, or their place in the plot, or what is specifically happening from moment to moment.

I don't know if Voznesenskii was also in charge of the intertitles here, or if Bauer was, or someone else; echoing the marked (relative) simplicity of a 1914 film production, the credits are sparing, with minimal illumination of who was involved. Whatever the case may be, I think all that 'Silent witnesses' needed to be able to stand taller was - of all things - more intertitles. Even just a handful more, cementing the nature of the goings-on in a scene, would have been beneficial to the whole. With that said, though, it's certainly to the credit of Voznesenskii's writing, Bauer's direction, and the acting of the cast that, such as it is, such an extraordinary abundance of narrative, and subtlety, is brought out by the strength of their contributions alone. Full fidelity may be lost in the process, but it speaks volumes to the capabilities of all involved that so much story is told just through the scenes as they are written, sans sound, dialogue, or exposition; the meticulous arrangement of every shot, making full use of every element to present before the camera; and the smart, tactful performances of a cast who had to pour everything of themselves and their roles into only the visual aspect thereof.

The use of editing techniques, tricks of the camera, or shot angles or otherwise composition that are unquestionably ahead of their time only further accentuates that the day to day construction of the movie received more attention than a narrative in which it's not always entirely clear even where a scene is set. Still, despite noteworthy deficiencies in rolling out its plot, the fact remains that this title continues to hold up astoundingly well several decades later. Some major modern productions, benefitting from astronomical budgets and all the best technology the industry has to offer, fail to be as engrossing, enjoyable, or well made as this is. Maybe that says more about Yevgeni Bauser and 'Silent witnesses' than anything else could. Yes, the end result is imperfect in very particular ways, but for everything that is done well here, it remains an exquisite, vital fragment of cultural history, and one well worth remembering and preserving. Mark this as something to leave for silent film fans, but for those who appreciate even the earliest days of film-making, faults and all this is well worth checking out.

This is part of the early phase of Bauer's work; there is little in it that is remarkable. The story, class distinctions and all (even the love circle), is interesting enough, but Bauer's uncharacteristically prosaic film-making detracts from much of the weight it might have had. There are a few exceptions: a shot through a door, or from an overhead angle. The sparing use of intertitles can be commended, as well.

I suppose, Bauer is asking viewers to take in the scenes, the props and spaces. Yet, this film could've benefited from better use of the architecture. There are some nice lighting effects, such as characters turning on and off diegetic lighting sources. The problem is that most of the film consists of long takes with a stationary camera. Bauer had tried and would try harder: Vera's bedroom in "Twilight of a Woman's Soul", the death opera in "Daydreams", the outside gardens in "The Dying Swan", or the pans and dollies in "After Death" to expose the rooms at a party.

Bauer's "A Life for a Life" focuses on a love circle, but mostly upon the mise-en-scène, just as with this, "Silent Witnesses". The set designs are better in that film, but more important is the film-making to support them; otherwise, it's merely a filmed play. The stagy long takes of long shots in "Silent Witnesses", compounded by a lack of continuity editing makes for film-making that is as mundane as the servants' work.

This psychological drama has an interesting story, and just in itself it was an achievement to film it so effectively in silent movie form. It is also quite a resourceful movie, as well as quite striking in several respects. The content is interesting in itself, and also as a reflection of its era. The way that the story is told demonstrates both skill and feeling on the part of Yevgeni Bauer and his cast.

The central theme of the story is the interplay between the servants of a large household and the upper classes whom they serve. It's a theme that has often produced interesting drama, but here it is used in a particularly effective and realistic way. The theme of the servants as "Silent Witnesses" could hardly have been developed more skillfully, or used to greater effect, than it is here.

The events in the opening sequence are just incidental, in themselves, to the main story, but the sequence nicely sets up the themes that are later used to great effect in subsequent plot developments. In this opening sequence, a servant's personal difficulty is resolved only by the generosity and sacrifice of another servant, in the face of insensitivity on the part of the servants' mistress. It introduces what becomes a rather fascinating look at the Russian class structure of its time, almost on the eve of the outbreak of the Great War that would lead to the overthrow of that structure.

Dora Tschitorina is very endearing as Nastya, the sensitive maid who is the central character. Elsa Krueger is also quite effective as the attractive, cold-hearted, manipulative Ellen, whose liaisons cause such discouragement for the servants, and especially for Nastya. The primary male characters – the innocent, weak-willed Pavel and the repulsively oily Baron, have less depth, but they are rendered believably. A less important, but interesting, aspect of the characters is the striking resemblance that Nastya's grandfather bears to Emil Jannings's character in Murnau's "The Last Laugh".

As the finale nears, Bauer makes use of an effective overhead shot of all the characters in various corners of a room, in such a way that it depicts quite cleverly their attitudes and their relationships with one another. The movie leaves you with considerable sadness, but it also creates a satisfied feeling that everything fits together and rings true, an unusual combination.

Along the way, Bauer also effectively uses some other techniques, such as split screens. From a technical standpoint, it gives the impression of a film-maker who could be a lot fancier if he wished to be, but who prefers to allow the story, and his convictions about the characters in the story, to speak for themselves. In that and in other respects, "Silent Witnesses" works very well.

Dora Tschitorina becomes the housemaid when her predecessor goes back to her village. Then the lady who owns the house goes to a resort for her health. Aleksandr Chargonin, the lady's son, spends his time in the usual pursuits: getting drunk, mooning over high-born Elsa Krueger, and trifling with the servants, especially pretty Miss Tschtorina, who develops deep feelings for him. Charnin continues to court Miss Krueger, even though she's carrying on an affair with Viktor Petipa. Finally, Miss Krueger agrees to marry Chargonin, while still carrying n the affair. All the servants know, but say nothing.

Yevgeny Bauer was one of the leading film makers in pre-Revoultion Russia, despite the insistence that film-making there began with the Academicians. As here, he tells stories which reflect the fracture between the ideals of the upper classes and their actual behavior. Chargonin plays his character very broadly, but Miss Tschitorina offers a nuanced performance that encompasses the range from repressed innocent to broken-hearted, betrayed woman.