“THE WAY OF ALL FLESH”

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 358, 19 May 1928, Page 14

“THE WAY OF ALL FLESH”

JANNINGS’S TRIUMPH

The cursed, but alluring, shades of Delilah, Cleopatra, Salome—all the women whose fatal spells brought misery and ruin to men, must have haunted the broken mind of August Schilling in the desolate days that followed his seduction in Chicago. It is an old story that is told in “The Way of All Flesh,” but it is told with such vigour, and invested with such tragic inevitability that it comes as a new and paralysi n g revelation. This film is the first to be made in America by the incomparable German actor, Emil Jannings, and the large audience at the New Regent Theatre last evening must have felt itself to be in the presence of a master. There is no questioning the artistic supremacy of Jannings among the men of the screen, for his acting gives constant aesthetic delight. Joy could be got from that, acting alone, but here we have a great actor in a great play. “The Way of All Flesh” has this much association with Samuel Butler’s novel: a quotation from Butler settles the philosophic theme. In a rare mood, that usually iconoclastic writer puts forward the thesis that the way* to happiness lies through the observance of conventional morality, and the exercise of conventional virtues. August Schilling, the hero of the tragedy, is discovered first as a. quiet humoured family man living with his wife and children in a small town. God-fearing and happy, he rules his home kindly, and earns a living as cashier in a bank. No vague, unsatisfied desires gnaw into his spirit, and his simple method of living makes him completely happy. Then comes the time when he has to take an issue of valuable bonds to Chicago. In the train he meets the woman who brings the patiently-built structure of his life crashing about his frightened ears. He is introduced to the gay city life; seduced, and robbed. Not only that: for in an effort to save his own life he kills a man. The mangled corpse is identified as his own, and Schilling is believed by family and employers to have died in defence of his trust. Thereafter he becomes a living corpse. He is deprived of the right to see his family, and grows to be a tramp. The plot has been carefully constructed, and it evolves with tl*3 relentless inevitability which marks all great tragedy. No concessions are made: saccharine sentiment is ousted, for once, and there is no compromise in the climax. Schilling is last seen shuffling away, in a snowstorm, from his own home, with a beggar’s wretched dole in his hands. The overpowering qualities of the film would have lost their force had the acting been weak, but Jannings, with his marvellous character work and the amazing technical resources of his acting, makes Schilling a noble and memorable figure. Belle Bennett and Phyllis Haver, who play the principal female parts, give Jannings adequate support. The incidental music was perfectly arranged, and the orchestra, temporarily under the control of Mr. Arthur G. Frost, was satisfying as usual. Mr. Leslie V. Harvey played “Largo” (Handel) on the Wurlitzer. There are also some first-rate suimporting films.