User Reviews

D.W. Griffith's first film, 'Those Awful Hats (1909),' was designed as a comical public service announcement of sorts. A few years later, the director continued to perform public services, but the complexity of his work had evolved exponentially. Much like 'A Corner in Wheat (1909),' he is here using cinema to make a profound social statement, this particular issue highlighted in the film's title: 'What Shall We Do With Our Old? (1911).' After an aging carpenter (W. Chrystie Miller) is fired from his job to make room for young workers, he is unable to find another job, leaving him, penniless, to care for his ailing wife (Claire McDowell). In order to survive, the carpenter reluctantly turns to crime, but is arrested and brought before a kindly, sympathetic judge (George Nichols). Despite the judge's understanding, it is too late for this elderly couple to be rescued from abject poverty: the wife succumbs to her illness, and the carpenter is left grieve his losses and ponder his lonely predicament.

'A Corner in Wheat' ends with an image of hope. 'What Shall We Do With Our Old?' concludes with an image of despair, a pertinent social problem without any known solution. Griffith doesn't even attempt to propose any sort of resolution, which does admittedly come off as rather hypocritical – it is, after all, one thing to merely acknowledge a problem, and another to try and fix it. But the film is given emotional depth through an opening title that informs us that the story was "founded upon an actual occurrence in New York City," assuring Griffith's undeniable social relevance. Miller is very good in the main role, showing strong emotions in response to his character's hardship. Nichols, as the judge, also does well, playing the sort of sympathetic authority-figure role that Frank Capra might later have set aside for Harry Carey or Harry Davenport. McDowell, as the carpenter's sick wife, is adequate, but quite obviously far younger – 34 years old – than she was supposed to appear.

Considering that this was not among D.W. Griffith's earliest works, the style of storytelling is surprisingly old fashioned--even for 1911. So while the idea is very good, the execution leaves a bit to be desired.

The film is about an older couple. The man is fired from his job simply because he is old--which was, unfortunately, quite legal at the time. With no other prospects, he and his wife starve until the man is forced by circumstances to steal food. In the end, however, it ends in tragedy.

Griffith made quite a few films about social reform and this was an important message that probably worked pretty well at the time. However, instead of letting the actors demonstrate what is happening, too many intertitle cards are used--describing the action before you even see it--thus making the performances somewhat unnecessary--and blunting the overall effect. Still, purely from a historical and social point of view, a film worth seeing.

The opening title card of this short drama informs us that it was "founded upon an actual occurrence in New York City." This information has an impact similar to what it might have today, when a movie or TV show is introduced with an announcement that it's based on a true story: all that follows is granted additional weight by our knowledge that what we're seeing, or something close to it, really happened. In the case of this film we feel as if we're watching a police report come to life, one that relates the sort of pathetic, wretched tale one reads about in the news, or hears from friends; a story of inhumane behavior with tragic results, and no happy ending. Where this film is concerned, director D. W. Griffith does the material and the viewer a service by telling the story as plainly and simply as possible. Even if the title cards were removed the story could be followed, but as it stands the text underscores the injustice of the situation with eloquent, understated fury.

Elderly character actor W. Chrystie Miller (a man born in 1843!) plays the central character, a carpenter who is the only provider for his ailing wife. A doctor informs the couple that country life and fresh air is the only cure for her, but they are obviously poor and unable to pick up stakes and travel. It's chilling to read the next title, "At the Shop the New Foreman Weeds Out the Old Hands," and then to watch while a cold-hearted gent with a bushy black mustache does precisely that: he struts about the carpentry shop, singles out each elderly employee, fires him, and puts a younger man in his place. Our protagonist is among those singled out, of course, and he finds that pleading for his job is useless. On the brink of starvation he turns to theft to feed his desperately ill wife, but, like Victor Hugo's Jean Valjean, he is caught and the authorities are unsympathetic to his plight. In this case, however, a sympathetic judge investigates, determines that the old man is telling the truth, and attempts to help him -- but too late, leaving the old man alone, grieving and bitterly angry.

Many of Griffith's early works at Biograph champion the cause of the working poor, but seldom with the white hot indignation he and his crew display here. The fact that What Shall We Do with Our Old? was based on a true story undoubtedly boosted everyone's efforts, and it's all the more impressive that the approach is so restrained, given the period. Miller is excellent in the lead role, and most of the other performances are low-key and restrained. As for the writing, Miller's moving performance in the finale is complemented by the memorable wording of the final title card: "Nothing for the Useful Citizen Wounded in the Battle of Life."