Having finished reviewing Oscar Micheaux's three silent films that remain accessible to this day ("Within Our Gates," "The Symbol of the Unconquered" (both 1920) and "Body and Soul" (1925)), it was interesting to check out a race film made by others, "The Scar of Shame." While produced and directed by Jewish émigré filmmakers, although perhaps with an integrated crew, it features, in contrast to Micheaux's non-segregated oeuvre, an all-black cast from Colored Players Film Corporation of Philadelphia, with which they made four films, the last of which was this one. Those familiar with Micheaux's films will recognize among the supporting cast former Micheaux regular Lawrence Chenault, who starred in "The Symbol of the Unconquered" and "Body and Soul."
Like Micheaux's films, "The Scar of Shame" is a melodrama, but its singular focus on "uplift" to the exclusion of even the mention of race is in stark contrast to the African-American director's work. Being produced a few years later (sources differ on whether this one is from 1927 or 1929) and evidently with more financing and resources than Micheaux's surviving silents, "The Scar of Shame" does feature superior production values. Improvements in lighting, or the luxury of retakes and censors not ripping the nitrate to shreds, though, are at the expense of sophisticated storytelling, intriguingly complex plotting, greater relevance and an ideology that challenges rather than muddles. For all the technical limitations, I'll take a Micheaux silent over the glitz and classist commentary on class, or "caste," as its titles often put it, of "The Scar of Shame" any day.
That's not to say this film doesn't have more than superficial appeal. Just as a historical record and a glimpse into the depiction of class distinctions in black communities from the 1920s is interesting. Moreover, once the picture picks up, the melodramatics are sometimes amusingly unpredictable until the aggravating conclusion. I hate these old-timey melodrama contrivances that always sacrifice the poor woman (and always a woman, usually of lower class, and often marked by some physical deformity) to make way for a supposedly-happy resolution for the upper-class couple. The same thing annoys me when it happens in, say, a Mary Pickford vehicle such as "Stella Maris" (1918). Micheaux's silents, by contrast, are also remarkable for how advanced they are in the representation of sex, including female protagonists and heroines who rescued the men. You won't find that here. The hero rushes to rescue the damsel-in-distress three times, including once from little more than saving her from accepting a job, I guess. And a woman's scar, which is easily concealed with scarves, is described at one point as completely marring her beauty.
Additionally, if you thought Micheaux was overly didactic, try the hero here practically talking directly to the camera from the get go about uplifting the poors with "the finer things in life," which seems to consist largely of playing piano, a bit of reading and not abusing women. All fine things, indeed, even if every time "finer things" are mentioned I was reminded of the Finer Things Club from "The Office" TV series. It doesn't help that the lead male character here is quite pompous. "Oh! Our people have much to learn!," he bemoans as the picture has long since moved past pictures of Frederick Douglass hanging on the walls to a close-up of a copy of a "True Romance" book, and as the picture's silence on race seems to do little more than support another, more illusory caste system. Talk about mixed messages.
Like Micheaux's films, "The Scar of Shame" is a melodrama, but its singular focus on "uplift" to the exclusion of even the mention of race is in stark contrast to the African-American director's work. Being produced a few years later (sources differ on whether this one is from 1927 or 1929) and evidently with more financing and resources than Micheaux's surviving silents, "The Scar of Shame" does feature superior production values. Improvements in lighting, or the luxury of retakes and censors not ripping the nitrate to shreds, though, are at the expense of sophisticated storytelling, intriguingly complex plotting, greater relevance and an ideology that challenges rather than muddles. For all the technical limitations, I'll take a Micheaux silent over the glitz and classist commentary on class, or "caste," as its titles often put it, of "The Scar of Shame" any day.
That's not to say this film doesn't have more than superficial appeal. Just as a historical record and a glimpse into the depiction of class distinctions in black communities from the 1920s is interesting. Moreover, once the picture picks up, the melodramatics are sometimes amusingly unpredictable until the aggravating conclusion. I hate these old-timey melodrama contrivances that always sacrifice the poor woman (and always a woman, usually of lower class, and often marked by some physical deformity) to make way for a supposedly-happy resolution for the upper-class couple. The same thing annoys me when it happens in, say, a Mary Pickford vehicle such as "Stella Maris" (1918). Micheaux's silents, by contrast, are also remarkable for how advanced they are in the representation of sex, including female protagonists and heroines who rescued the men. You won't find that here. The hero rushes to rescue the damsel-in-distress three times, including once from little more than saving her from accepting a job, I guess. And a woman's scar, which is easily concealed with scarves, is described at one point as completely marring her beauty.
Additionally, if you thought Micheaux was overly didactic, try the hero here practically talking directly to the camera from the get go about uplifting the poors with "the finer things in life," which seems to consist largely of playing piano, a bit of reading and not abusing women. All fine things, indeed, even if every time "finer things" are mentioned I was reminded of the Finer Things Club from "The Office" TV series. It doesn't help that the lead male character here is quite pompous. "Oh! Our people have much to learn!," he bemoans as the picture has long since moved past pictures of Frederick Douglass hanging on the walls to a close-up of a copy of a "True Romance" book, and as the picture's silence on race seems to do little more than support another, more illusory caste system. Talk about mixed messages.