It always astounds how much variety there can be within a category that from the outside seems small and limited. Of all the many films made in the silent era, many of which have been sadly lost to the ravages of time or flame, there are distinct stylistic differences discernible in all matters of storytelling and film-making. In this title I recognize some facets that seem to bridge a divide: acting that lies somewhere in the middle between the exaggerated body language and facial expressions that followed from live theater, and the more natural, subtle comportment that became increasingly predominant heading into the sound era and beyond; sequencing, editing broadly, and scene writing that falls somewhere on the spectrum between the most rigid, stilted connecting of dots that characterized many early titles, with discrete divisions from beat to beat, and the more organic, smoothly flowing progression of events that better fostered and sustained suspension of disbelief. And so on, and so on. Having once said so of myself, I can understand why some folks have difficulty abiding the silent era, and this is perhaps unlikely to change any minds despite the forward steps it took in the medium. Still, for those who appreciate what early cinema has to offer, 'The outlaw and his wife' is a terrific surviving picture that well deserves remembrance and recognition.
In addition to the major questions of style, it's worth observing that the feature bears a story that is ultimately rather simple and straightforward. This is hardly a fault in and of itself, though hand in hand with that, there are times when the pacing seems to lag a bit, as though there isn't quite enough drama or accompanying weight in the beat to justify how some moments may linger or take their time to fully develop. Yet as with anything one may raise here as a matter to possibly reduce the total possible audience, these are not nearly so critical an issue as to severely detract from the viewing experience. On the contrary - while the feature bides its time to go where it wants to, it gathers strength as it progresses. And though this is an instance of a film that does feel as long as it is (just shy of two hours), it's well done all the while, and at length earns its enduring acclaim. There is, truly, much to admire in 'The outlaw and his wife,' from Julius Jaenzon's vivid, mindful cinematography to the magnificently, peerlessly beautiful landscapes (the latter mostly reserved for the second half). The production design is splendid, and filmmaker Victor Sjöström illustrates wonderfully smart, sharp direction to bring the tale together, not least as he emphatically makes use of the surrounding wilderness to weave the very land itself into the narrative, as though it were another character. To that point, some instances of his shot composition are especially keen.
While it doesn't seem as significant at the outset, it's safe to say that the acting is also gratifyingly strong throughout, not least from Sjöström himself, starring in the lead, and chief co-star Edith Erastoff. Once more, the performances seem to me to split the difference between those approaches that are, respectively, less and more nuanced, and certainly Sjöström and Erastoff do a fine job of commanding one's attention, especially in the second half where they are more pointedly centered. On that note, utmost commendations to the makeup artists whose contributions are increasingly important and noteworthy as the course of events draws on. And of course none of this would be possible without robust writing to propel the feature. As 'The outlaw and his wife' rolls into its second half the instances of lesser drama or lagging pace are easily forgotten, a thing of the past - and even if they weren't, the scene writing is stark and drearily vibrant all the while, conveying powerful images that are realized so deftly through Jaenzon's lens and Sjöström's vision. The characters carry concrete personality and complexity that are most welcome, and at its best even the dialogue is fiercely intelligent, suggesting commanding prose that is a treasure unto itself. Factor all this into a rich, deeply compelling narrative, one rife with themes of religious hypocrisy, the haughty cruelty of wealth, unjust laws and societies, the jealousies and darkness that hardship can bring to the surface, and above all the places that love can take us, and the end result is fabulously satisfying and rewarding as a viewer.
It bears repeating that for all the strength the picture carries, this is one that quite decidedly takes its time, allowing the saga to manifest, breathe, and resolve of its own accord. Sometimes that approach isn't always to the movie's advantage, for that matter, especially as it initially works to lay the groundwork for the plot to come. For those who are willing and able to stick with the production, however, and take everything exactly as and when it wants us to, the wait is very much worth it. When all is said and done there's no part of this that isn't tremendously well done, a real treat for any cinephile, and it's no wonder why it's been held in such regard for so many years. Patience is required on top of love for the silent era - but so long as the notion of such a deliberately paced film is no obstacle, 'The outlaw and his wife' remains highly, heartily recommended, a terrific piece that continues to stand tall more than one hundred years later. This is a classic that is well worth seeking out!
In addition to the major questions of style, it's worth observing that the feature bears a story that is ultimately rather simple and straightforward. This is hardly a fault in and of itself, though hand in hand with that, there are times when the pacing seems to lag a bit, as though there isn't quite enough drama or accompanying weight in the beat to justify how some moments may linger or take their time to fully develop. Yet as with anything one may raise here as a matter to possibly reduce the total possible audience, these are not nearly so critical an issue as to severely detract from the viewing experience. On the contrary - while the feature bides its time to go where it wants to, it gathers strength as it progresses. And though this is an instance of a film that does feel as long as it is (just shy of two hours), it's well done all the while, and at length earns its enduring acclaim. There is, truly, much to admire in 'The outlaw and his wife,' from Julius Jaenzon's vivid, mindful cinematography to the magnificently, peerlessly beautiful landscapes (the latter mostly reserved for the second half). The production design is splendid, and filmmaker Victor Sjöström illustrates wonderfully smart, sharp direction to bring the tale together, not least as he emphatically makes use of the surrounding wilderness to weave the very land itself into the narrative, as though it were another character. To that point, some instances of his shot composition are especially keen.
While it doesn't seem as significant at the outset, it's safe to say that the acting is also gratifyingly strong throughout, not least from Sjöström himself, starring in the lead, and chief co-star Edith Erastoff. Once more, the performances seem to me to split the difference between those approaches that are, respectively, less and more nuanced, and certainly Sjöström and Erastoff do a fine job of commanding one's attention, especially in the second half where they are more pointedly centered. On that note, utmost commendations to the makeup artists whose contributions are increasingly important and noteworthy as the course of events draws on. And of course none of this would be possible without robust writing to propel the feature. As 'The outlaw and his wife' rolls into its second half the instances of lesser drama or lagging pace are easily forgotten, a thing of the past - and even if they weren't, the scene writing is stark and drearily vibrant all the while, conveying powerful images that are realized so deftly through Jaenzon's lens and Sjöström's vision. The characters carry concrete personality and complexity that are most welcome, and at its best even the dialogue is fiercely intelligent, suggesting commanding prose that is a treasure unto itself. Factor all this into a rich, deeply compelling narrative, one rife with themes of religious hypocrisy, the haughty cruelty of wealth, unjust laws and societies, the jealousies and darkness that hardship can bring to the surface, and above all the places that love can take us, and the end result is fabulously satisfying and rewarding as a viewer.
It bears repeating that for all the strength the picture carries, this is one that quite decidedly takes its time, allowing the saga to manifest, breathe, and resolve of its own accord. Sometimes that approach isn't always to the movie's advantage, for that matter, especially as it initially works to lay the groundwork for the plot to come. For those who are willing and able to stick with the production, however, and take everything exactly as and when it wants us to, the wait is very much worth it. When all is said and done there's no part of this that isn't tremendously well done, a real treat for any cinephile, and it's no wonder why it's been held in such regard for so many years. Patience is required on top of love for the silent era - but so long as the notion of such a deliberately paced film is no obstacle, 'The outlaw and his wife' remains highly, heartily recommended, a terrific piece that continues to stand tall more than one hundred years later. This is a classic that is well worth seeking out!