Film Review: Lost in Translation

  "Lost in Translation"

  *** 1\2 (out of ****)

The very first time we see Bill Murray - we haven't learned his character's name yet - he is in the backseat of a car. His eyes are closed as his head rests against the window. He opens his eyes open and looks out at his surroundings. He is in Tokyo. From his sleep he woke up on another continent, in another country and in a different city. Nothing is written in English on the billboards nor store fronts he passes by. He is literally in a world he does not understand.

That's how director Sofia Coppola begins her story in "Lost in Translation" (2003) but look at what she continues to do. The first 15 minutes of the film are episodic. It seems as if nothing is happening to drive the film forward. Murray, who by now we have learned is Bob Harris, a famous movie star, walks into a hotel and is greeted by the staff. He sits in his hotel room, goes to the hotel's bar / restaurant, and back to his room. Coppola and her cinematographer Lance Acord use a combination of long and extreme long shots. This emphasizes Bob's surroundings and his relationship to his environment. He is only a small piece in the world around him. Coppola may not be saying much at first glance but she is setting the scene for a story about loneliness, isolation, and lack of communication. Her decisions signal that this will be a film about mood and tone rather than loud actions. 

Coppola maintains that atmosphere while introducing us to Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), a young American woman in Tokyo with her photographer husband, John (Giovanni Ribisi), by using the same techniques. Coppola however adds a reoccurring visual of Charlotte sitting by her hotel window sill staring out at the city. It's a more poetic aesthetic to invoke the same detachment we sense in Bob. 

Both of these characters happen to be staying at the same hotel and eventually spot each other. They engage in slightly awkward small talk and because audiences have been trained by movie conventions we assume Bob and Charlotte will begin a romance. Is Bob attracted to Charlotte? Could be. She's an appealing young woman. Does Charlotte find Bob handsome? I don't think so and never picked up on any flirtation. These however are the wrong questions to ask. "Lost in Translation" is not about an affair between two people or romance. It is about something equally as vulnerable; friendship and intimacy.

Intimacy doesn't necessarily mean romanticized love, intimacy can be an intellectual or emotional bond. That is what these characters crave and yet are incapable of - translating their feelings and creating a connection. Coppola immediately suggests a "veil of intimacy" from the film's opening shot of a woman's (Johansson) backside, as she lays on a bed wearing sheer panties. It's a provocative image but not one I interpreted as blatantly sexual. The buttocks aren't exposed, they are hinted at, thus implying a veil. It's masking something more than eroticism. How one interprets this scene will set the tone for their expectations of what follows. 

For example critic  Armond White addressed the opening shot in his New York Press review with a sense of bewilderment, "The three title words slowly materialize beneath a shot of a young woman's ass sheathed in pink pantyhose. Stuff magazine couldn't have asked for more." White went on to add, "Perhaps director-writer Sofia Coppola is shrewd enough to know that this is exactly the trendy stuff that garners one hype as an "original" film artist". Finally White concludes with "Whatever. It's ambiguous, thus "cool."" By missing any emotional commentary Coppola could be suggesting, White then proceeded to blast the film. Others might find the shot sexy and these viewers will be let down when no other sexy things happen. Stephanie Zacharek, writing for Salon hits on something truer to the film's spirit calling it, "a love story but not a romance."

And "love story" doesn't mean "Lost in Translation" is about unrequited love either. There is a quiet moment in the film which may go unnoticed to some. Bob and Charlotte have spent a night out together with some people Charlotte knows. On a taxi ride back to their hotel, Charlotte falls asleep and Bob carries her to her room and tucks her into bed. The next scene is of  Bob on  a phone call with his wife. This is the first time we have seen Bob speak to her. Prior in the film she has communicated with Bob via fax and Fed-Ex. Shaming him for not telling their son happy birthday before leaving or asking for his opinion on carpet samples. But after spending a night out with Charlotte, Bob feels lonely and calls his wife, hoping for a connection. He was on an emotional high when interacting with Charlotte and her friends but with her sleeping, he wants to continue the feeling. Unfortunately, with the time difference, his wife is in the middle of trying to send their kids off  to school and doesn't have time to chit-chat. Bob can't fully communicate his feelings of vulnerability to his wife. When he utters the words "I love you", she has already hung up. Missed communication. Others could assume he called his wife because of a guilty conscience for spending the night out with Charlotte, despite the viewer not seeing anything to invoke such a strong defense mechanism in Bob. To me it is loneliness that led to that call not a feeling of betrayal.

Compare Bob's telephone conversation to one Charlotte has. After being left alone by her husband, Charlotte attempts to explore the city. She finds herself at a Buddhist Temple and looks on with a blank expression. In the following scene she is back at her hotel room, crying while on the phone. She has called a friend, possibly her mother, though she refers to the person by their first name. She wants to explain the experience of seeing the Monks however the person puts her on a brief hold. It is just long enough for Charlotte to regain her composure and hide her feelings. When the voice comes back on the phone and asks Charlotte to repeat what she was saying, Charlotte responds by saying it wasn't important and hangs up. In both scenarios with Bob and Charlotte neither person could be honest about why they were reaching out to someone. 

This explains why there is so much awkwardness in the dialogue between Bob and Charlotte. Their long pauses could be considered "sexual tension", as some critics have called it, but that kind of chemistry was not palpable on-screen to me. If these characters were talkative to everyone else around them except each other, that would be a different story. Their long pauses do signal something unspoken and that may not be a burning desire for one another. It is more likely a burning desire to be natural. Natural in their own skin and within their environment. When "Lost in Translation" was initially released, the critics and the public made much of a whisper at the end of the film between these characters. What did they say? Could it be a key to understand or confirm a suspicion the audience may have had? It doesn't matter. Look at what you see in that scene instead. Whatever message Bob tells Charlotte, he has to whisper it. He can't speak it freely for others to hear. That's how emotionally closed off these people are. Their feelings cannot be declared, they must be whispered. This action tells us just as much as whatever message might have been exchanged.

Throughout the film Coppola compares and contrasts Bob and Charlotte - their differences in age, gender, professions and marriages. Bob has been married for twenty-five years and Charlotte for two but whether it is twenty-five years or two it doesn't matter. Both marriages lack communication. When Bob was on the phone with his wife, they discussed mundane things, the kind of every day occurrences most married people discuss. On the other hand there is rarely a scene between  John and Charlotte when he is not half way out the door, telling Charlotte he loves her. These two barely speak to each other.

The most animated we ever  see John is  when he runs into an  American actress, Kelly (Anna Faris) also staying at the hotel. She shouts out how much she loves the way John shoots her. John is enraptured by her energy and for a brief moment Charlotte seems to be the third wheel in the conversation. Kelly is the flip side of the coin. If Bob and Charlotte have nothing to say, Kelly speaks a lot but its all meaningless. She is fun but shallow. Everything feels performative with Kelly, even when she seems to be sharing vulnerable stories about her father. Bob, Kelly, Charlotte and even John are all vessels looking for ways  to express themselves but they all resist the honest path forward.

Ask yourself, how honest are Bob and Charlotte being when it is discovered Bob slept with a woman in his hotel room? Charlotte doesn't see the woman when she knocks on Bob's door to ask him out for sushi but does hear her voice. Charlotte walks away quietly shaken. Bob eventually makes his way to the restaurant. There is an unspoken friction between them. It goes beyond their usual awkwardness. Charlotte, I suspect, is hurt by Bob's actions. Not because she wanted to be the one in his bed but because he found someone else to share a private moment  with. Was it just sex or did it go deeper? Charlotte could potentially be alone again. Bob seems to regret his actions as soon as he wakes up. Is he thinking about his wife at that moment or Charlotte? It is easy to interpret Charlotte's response as heartache but I think it is disappointment. Bob is embarrassed by his lapse in judgement and being discovered. But neither says what they are truly feeling in that instant.

Coppola is also very subtle in her commentary on the film industry, celebrity and overseas markets. Notice the distinction between Kelly and Bob. There was once a time top list actors didn't commonly appear in commercials. It would signal the end of a career. Actors would go overseas to capitalize on their fame and appear in commercials American consumers would never see. Bob is in Tokyo to do a whiskey commercial. He is ashamed of it. Kelly is in Tokyo to promote her new film. She is happy to be there because the overseas market is important to the film industry. Kelly and Bob are at opposite ends. A lot of critics ignored this aspect of the film, focusing instead on Charlotte and Bob's  "romance" but there is something interesting in the background being said through the Kelly and Bob characters. 

"Lost in Translation" was a continuation of themes presented in Sofia Coppola's directorial debut film, "The Virgin Suicides" (1999). Although "Suicides" was a well made film which highlighted Coppola's craft, "Lost in Translation" saw the growth of an artist. "Translation" and "Suicides" and all subsequent films Coppola has directed address themes of loneliness, isolation and celebrity. My personal favorite Coppola film is "The Bling Ring" (2013), an absolute indictment of celebrity obsessed culture. But "Translation" seems to be the one critics gravitated the most to. Coppola received  Academy Award nominations for best original screenplay - which she won - and best director. With the director nomination, Coppola became the third women ever nominated in the category and the first  American woman. Prior nominees were Lina Wertmuller and Jane Campion. The film also won a best picture nomination.

I think a lot of critics and the public misread / misinterpreted this film and much of that had to do with the age difference between the characters and the idea that this was a "romantic comedy". What exactly was "romantic" about this movie - the loneliness, the isolation or the miscommunication?  As such Coppola's next films would firmly address the age issue - which lets be honest, bothers many in the public - and repackaged it as a father / daughter dynamic - "Somewhere" (2010) and "On the Rocks" (2020). Interestingly, neither of those became the cultural phenomenon "Translation" achieved. 

In addition to the acclaim Sofia Coppola received, "Lost in Translation" was viewed as a triumph for Bill Murray - he received his sole best actor Oscar nomination. In Chicago Sun-Times movie critic, Roger Ebert's Great Movie review, Ebert begins by praising Murray, stating the actor gives "one of the most exquisitely controlled performances in recent movies. Without it, the film could be unwatchable. With it, I can't take my eyes away." Murray is very good in the film. It is now difficult to think of another actor in the role. I enjoyed how Coppola restrained Murray. The performance is filled with anxiety and unease, which have always been traits in any number of  Murray's performances. Those qualities would reveal themselves verbally though through wise-cracks and sarcastic remarks. Here is it all kept inside and reveals itself through quiet gestures. In one scene Bob is sitting at the bar and two men recognize him and want to chat. He is immediately uncomfortable. He gives the men a knowing nod, gets up and leaves. Slow deliberate movements done with purpose. We know what Bob is feeling in that moment. That's good acting, visualizing the internal.

Scarlett Johansson on the other hand, didn't receive as much praise from the critics despite the fact she is mostly doing the same things Murray's performance is. The key difference is Murray gets to add humor to his performance. Johansson's character is always in a state of detachment. That makes it harder for an audience to connect with. It doesn't feel as versatile which limits its appeal. 

That leads me to view Coppola and "Lost in Translation" as part of a European tradition. There are a few moments when Bob and Charlotte watch movies on TV and more often than not it is foreign films playing, such as Fellini's "La Dolce Vita" (1960), which just so happen to also be about celebrity. It's not however Fellini that comes to my mind while watching "Translation", it is instead another gifted Italian filmmaker, Michelangelo Antonioni, who often made films around themes of alienation. Like Antonioni's films, "Lost in Translation" is something you "experience" as much as you "watch" it. The mood and tones of the film are what carry you away, if you are on the film's same rhythm. It's not unlike how Sofia's father, Francis Ford Coppola was clearly inspired by "Blow-Up" (1967) when making "The Conversation" (1974). 

"Lost in Translation" received a total of four  Academy Award nominations and won three Golden Globes - best picture (musical or comedy), best actor (Murray) and best screenplay (Coppola). It was named by several critics as one of the best films of 2003 - Roger Ebert, Richard Roeper, Andrew Sarris, Stephen Holden and Stephanie Zacharek among them, making it the most critically successful film in Coppola's career, so far. This is a slow, deliberate film that does a lot quietly, if you can translate it.

Film Review: 13 Conversations About One Thing

  "13 Conversations About One Thing"

 **** (out of ****)

Jill Sprecher's  "13 Conversations  About One Thing" isn't exactly about one thing but rather is an exploration into themes of happiness, chance and morality in an immediate post 9/11 America.

It's tempting to compare Sprecher's film to the work of Robert  Altman. "13 Conversations" is a sprawling film featuring a large cast  with interconnecting storylines but unlike an  Altman film - "Short Cuts" (1993) for example - "13 Conversations" doesn't feel improvised or free flowing. Instead this is a tightly structured film that is philosophical in its method. The Altman comparison merely elevates the talent of Sprecher to signify what an achievement her sophomore feature-length effort is. There is no denying "13 Conversations" is a masterpiece and the work of a brilliant filmmaker. I was so captivated by this film back in 2002 that I placed it on my year end top ten list, in the number two spot. 

A lot of critics leaned a little too far on the happiness leitmotif, like Chicago Sun-Times movie critic Roger Ebert, who began his review with "Happiness is the subject of  "13 Conversations About One Thing". For that matter, happiness is the subject of every conversation we ever have: the search for happiness, the envy of happiness, the loss of happiness, the guilt of happiness." "13 Conversations" is a little wider in its scope asking multiple questions - what is the meaning of life? Why do bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people? What role does happenstance and chance play in our lives? Sprecher is able to probe the answers to these questions by orchestrating a delicate mixture between hard hitting emotional drama and something not quite whimsical but light hearted. In tone it recalls not  Altman but is closer to Woody Allen, who has explored the importance of fate and chance in our lives in films such as  "Match Point" (2005) and "You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger" (2010).

"13 Conversations" doesn't have a "lead" character but if one character could be considered the "anchor" of the film it would be Gene (Alan Arkin), an insurance claims manager. Gene is presented as an everyman who has his share of problems - he's divorced, his son is a drug addict, he's getting pressure from upper management over budget concerns - and yet he is surrounded by people that have good fortune falling into their lap. When will it be his turn? What makes these people more deserving than him? Sprecher, and I am sure with input from Arkin, treat these scenes with a wry smile instead of going full on Book of Job. Arkin, a Chicago Second City alumni, who built a persona on dry humor, knew how to find the understated humor in frustration and exasperation.

Gene and his coworkers have branded a fellow employee, Bowman as  "Smiley" (William Wise). Bowman is a middle-aged, slightly overweight but jovial guy, who is always praising his wife and kids by spreading news of their good fortune. He isn't doing it in a malicious way or trying to rub his good luck into anyone's face, he's just a proud and happy father. But if you're a guy like Gene and his coworkers, a sunny disposition can become irritating. Gene can't understand how a guy can be so happy? It must be a façade. This is the same kind of illogical thinking that leads some to wonder if a person can be "too nice". Gene however thinks he knows of a way to wipe that smile off of Bowman's face.

Sprecher takes this amusing tale and contrasts it with something more Dostoevskian, the story of a young and successful lawyer named Troy (Matthew McConaughey). As the Gods would have it, one day Troy meets Gene at a bar. Troy is riding high after winning a case, which he enthusiastically declares there being one less bad guy on the streets. Gene congratulates him on his good luck but the hot shot lawyer doesn't believe in luck. It was his hard work that paid off because you see, the law holds everyone accountable. Everyone that is, except Troy. Later that night, while driving home, he strikes a pedestrian and leaves the scene without notifying the police. Will an overwhelming sense of guilt and morality be Troy's downfall? Can he get away with murder?

These two characters are the heart and soul of the film for me. The other characters are extensions of their dilemmas. Take for example a married professor, Walker (John Turturro), who flat out confesses that he doesn't know what he wants out of life. He initially says he wants to be happy but how does one achieve happiness? Is it by cheating on his wife (Amy Irving)? That eventually doesn't bring him the joy and meaning he was looking for. It is quite possible Walker wouldn't know happiness even if he experienced it, because he doesn't know what it feels like to begin with. He is what is known as a "lost soul", a person on an endless journey, who mistakes "contentment" for "boredom". 

Then there is Beatrice (Clea DuVall), a young woman who had a near death experience as a child, and since then has not only looked on the bright side of things but has sought the deeper spiritual meaning behind our lives. In one scene we see her sing with a choir at church. But like the lawyer, she will be tested. How strong are her beliefs?

Some of these stories end sadly while others appear unresolved, however it is the film's final moment which makes its greatest commentary: all any of us want is to be seen. No matter how good or bad our luck may seem, no matter how overwhelming the obstacles thrown at us may be, there is comfort in knowing we are not invisible in this world. All that is required is something as simple as waving at a stranger, a brief moment of human connection.

Moments like the ending are balanced against scenes between Walker and one of his students - a class clown who eventually worries about his grades and getting into med school. The student is the mirror image of Walker. When the young man relays a list of personal problems he is going through, Walker is blinded by his own troubles and an inability to relate to others - his wife, his mistress and his students. He is not there to provided that much needed moment of human interaction.

It was a feeling of invisibility and great pain that lead Jill Sprecher to co-write this screenplay with her sister, Karen and direct the film. While living in New York, Sprecher faced many difficult moments such as being mugged twice - one of the incidents actually required surgery - and once hit on the subway. It was while on that same subway train a stranger smiled at her. Within that brief moment Sprecher felt consoled to know there were still nice people in the world.

For a lot of movie critics "13 Conversations" lacks a visual flair and a feeling of importance - one critic called it "a dry, dim looking film". This kind of thinking blatantly misses the point of the film. Technically dazzling it is not but "13 Conversation" is richly conceived and full of ideas. Sprecher's background as a philosophy and literature major is evident in the film's structure. Like a novel the film has intertitles which serve as chapters, and each chapter centers around a character and concept.

This does not mean there aren't some good visuals or Sprecher doesn't know how to convey themes with her camera. My favorite involves a moment when Walker is explaining entropy - as good a word as any to describe this film - to his class and writes the word "irreversible" on a chalkboard but later the word is erased. Nothing is permanent or irreversible and it becomes a lesson these characters learn, the value of your life is based on perspective. Your path in life is not irreversible, a simple gesturing like waving at a stranger, could potentially set you off in a new direction.

Perspective is also something implied in the film's title. The number 13 is considered unlucky in many cultures, especially in America - Friday the 13th - but positive in others, like Italy for example. In an interview with MovieMaker magazine,  Sprecher admits the decision to add 13 in the title was a deliberate choice made by her and her sister, which would allow audiences to decide if 13 was positive or negative. This was something I didn't come across in any movie reviews I read. No one took time to question why the number 13 was selected and its implications.

Sprecher also knows how to visualize isolation and separating characters from their environment, as in the insurance claim office scenes by routinely having her camera shoot frames within a frame as Gene looks out at his co-workers while in his own office. "13 Conversations" also utilizes different colors to reflect character's moods and inner emotions - neutral for Gene, blue for Troy, golden hues for Beatrice...etc.  It lacks the excitement of the French New Wave - handheld camera and jump cuts - but Sprecher's approach gets the film's themes across and puts us in a proper state of mind to psychologically understand her characters.

There is some gratification in knowing others saw the craft in "13 Conversations". Arkin's performance was singled out in many reviews. He won nominations from many film critic society awards for supporting actor. Both he and Sprecher's screenplay were nominated for an Independent Spirit Award. It was even listed as one of the year's best films by the National Board of Review and critic Roger Ebert. And yet that makes it all the maddening to realize Sprecher's career was cut short afterwards.

"13 Conversations" was Sprecher's follow-up film to "Clockwatchers" (1997), a generally well received effort about female office temp workers. "13 Conversations" was a more ambitious undertaking and the work of a more confident filmmaker.  In Ebert's review of the film he paid Sprecher a tremendous compliment by writing, "After these two movies, there aren't many filmmakers whose next film I anticipate more eagerly. " Sprecher however wouldn't direct another feature length film until 2011's "Thin Ice", which Sprecher would eventually disown, claiming the studio took the film away from her.

There was a remarkable documentary a few years ago called "This Changes Everything" (2018). It focused on sexism in Hollywood and the obstacles female directors must overcome. A significant portion of it centered on Sprecher and her career. Watching the documentary made me so angry to think how Hollywood cuts short the careers of talented artists. Sprecher should have had a thriving career with at least ten films under her belt by now. Instead both she and her sister are writers for hire, with no feature length film credits since "Thin Ice".

What is worse than Hollywood's treatment of talented artists, is the silence from movie critics. No critic I can think of actually claims to support censorship but gosh they sure are quiet when it happens in front of their eyes. If movie critics don't stand up for art and great artists, exactly who is supposed to?

In the twenty-four years that have followed since the release of "13 Conversations About One Thing", I have never forgotten it. Like Ebert, I also eagerly awaited the next film from Sprecher. As the years passed, I just figured she had trouble raising money. It hadn't occurred to be sexism was playing a role. In my naïve mind I thought Sprecher's talent made her immune to such prejudice.  

"13 Conversations" is a smart, engaging and philosophical film. It makes us ponder life's big questions and comes to no easy conclusions about human behavior. Sprecher showed technical craft by understanding how to visualize psychology on-screen, while also being able to get natural performances out of her actors, especially DuVall and Arkin. She is a talent that is sorely missed in Hollywood.

Film Review: Too Wise Wives

  "Too Wise Wives"

 **** (out of ****)

The married couple sits mostly silent but contently together in their study. He is smoking a pipe as he reads a book. The smoke from his pipe blows in her face. She'd prefer it if he'd smoke the cigars, she bought him for Christmas. She wouldn't dare suggest it though since she doesn't want to be a nag. Meanwhile she is knitting him a pair of slippers to replace his beat up old pair. Delighted by her accomplishment, she enthusiastically puts the new pair on his feet; but he liked his old, worn out pair - they were comfortable. The next morning she has prepared for them to have fried chicken for breakfast. He once told her fried chicken was his favorite but it seems to him like they always eat chicken.

Watching these opening moments from Lois Weber's remarkable silent film, "Too Wise Wives" (1921) my heart swelled up and filled me with understanding. At one time or another throughout my life I have been these characters - the overeager lover, desperately wanting to please their partner or the overwhelmed recipient of such attention.

"Too Wise Wives" is a delicate examination on the fragility of relationships, societal gender roles, emotional maturity, ego, and love. But what is most impressive about Weber's direction and screenplay co-written with Marion Orth are the universal truths they present on-screen. Those subtle observations make the film feel alive and timeless. Here we are seeing ourselves on screen. Whether it is 1921 or 2026, men and women have engaged in a dance of give and take, often resulting in misunderstandings and even resentments. 

That makes it all the more odd for me when I read online, viewers refer to this film as one of Weber's "lesser" films. What exactly is "lesser" about noting human behavior? What is "lesser" about a commentary on modern relationships and society? Is it that the movie is perceived to lack a visual flair? I'll take emotional truth over spectacle any day! 

This is not to say Lois Weber was not a dizzyingly competent filmmaker, fully versed in the language of cinema. She was as extraordinarily gifted as D.W. Griffith, the "father" of  American cinema. Watch her short film, "Suspense" (1913) - often cited among her best work - and witness the technical craft. Pay attention to her use of split screen - dividing the frame into thirds - her effective use of cross-cutting, the editing, the pacing, the fluidity of the plot and the usage of the camera. Notice the shift in perspective as whenever a Tramp character is on-screen the POV is always an overhead shot. Compare all of this to Griffith's own short, "An Unseen Enemy" (1912). Critics and historians rightly praise Griffith for his mastery of these cinematic techniques, Weber demonstrates she was an equal. An unfortunately forgotten equal. There's no point to declare Weber was better than Griffith. It's rather immature to feel compelled to knock someone down in order to lift another. D.W. Griffith was a great filmmaker. Lois Weber was a great filmmaker.

If  "Too Wise Wives" seems to be doing "less" than other Weber films, lets go back to the first two pivotal scenes and consider all of the emotional psychology Weber's camera is capturing. From the very first shot of Mrs. David Graham (Claire Windsor) the viewer is immediately in  her head space. The intertitles contribute to this but Weber's camera isn't neutral. It is subtle in its alignment with the wife. The shots seems impartial - long shots, medium shots, two shots - but notice psychologically what happens whenever we see David Graham (Louis Calhern). As we watch him, we consider how his wife will respond. Weber even projects conflict spatially each time the camera cuts between two shots - both characters in a frame - to medium shots of the individual characters. The medium shots invoke a greater distance between the characters while in a two shot we see there isn't much space between them. That manipulation of space reflects each characters emotional distance. Weber may not be doing anything as fancy as dividing her frame into thirds but that camera is working to visually tell a story and Weber is controlling her audiences' emotions in ways only the best filmmakers do. 

While the camera is never neutral and our sympathies are meant to align with the wife, "Too Wise Wives" implies she is the "weaker" character since she is the one making all of the "sacrifices" to keep domestic tranquility - putting up with her husband's smoke, not "nagging" and cleaning up after his ashes. But these actions aren't "weakness" and her "sacrifices" are declarations of love. The husband isn't necessarily self-absorb or uncaring either. He eventually becomes conscious of his actions and the ensuing results of them. There is a little bit of  "a man should be king of his castle" mentality but underneath that is a commentary that communication is key. Neither character is "good" or "bad", "weak" or "strong". Instead we come to observe, good intentions may lead to acts of kindness but they can also be misinterpreted. That's why Weber begins her story with a title card that reads; "Most stories end: "And they lived happily ever after ~", "Too Wise Wives" is about how people interact day-to-day to keep that "happily ever after" alive. In other words, how do we co-exist? It's not a "battle" between the sexes but a gentle dance. That's the heart of Weber's tale.

"Too Wise Wives" contrasts the Grahams with Mr. John Daly (Phillips Smalley, who was married to Weber) and his wife (Mona Lisa) with a particular focus on the wives. If Mrs. Graham tries too hard to fit into her role of wife, Mrs. Daly is the opposite. If Mrs. Graham is suffocating, Mrs. Daly is carefree. Weber however proposes "carefree" doesn't equal "freedom". Carefree may be a lack of trying. Carefree could indicate you have nothing personally at stake. Mrs. Graham is insecure and tries too hard but she loves her husband. Her doting signifies her investment in the marriage. Weber crystalizes this tension when Mrs. Graham becomes suspicious of Mrs. Daly, after she sends her husband a perfume scented letter. Heightening the anxiety is the fact Mr. Graham and Mrs. Daly were once involved.

It is through these actions that Weber and Orth's screenplay begins to focus on the themes of emotional maturity, ego, and the fragility of relationships. While Mrs. Graham both despises and admires Mrs. Daly, for her ability to seemingly be "the perfect wife", she will eventually learn that in a good relationship / marriage both people must learn to trust one another, there is no such thing as perfect, and compromise is key.  

Weber creates wonderful visuals to communicate Mrs. Graham's growth. For example take a scene where Mrs. Graham is expecting to find her husband cheating. She is in the second floor hallway and sits down to spy on her husband below, who is pacing in a library. We see him through the railings. Whenever a character is positioned above another, that signals power, and here Mrs. Graham has a moment of clarity. Seeing the husband in a frame within a frame (through the railings) not only guides our eyes towards him but it also demonstrates the emotional weight of the moment. Once again Weber is using the camera to convey psychology, as she does with the final image of the couple, embraced in each other's arms. They are tangled together, which is a much different image from when we first saw them with space between them.

These moments make me appreciate Claire Windsor's performance, which I think is the best from the cast. Many viewers on-line however seem to not enjoy it, calling it "annoying", "slow" or "boring". For me though, she drives the entire film and not only because she is the lead character. Windsor is moving the story along through her acting. Silent films practically require this. There is never a moment of doubt about what Windsor's character is feeling or thinking, even without the use of title cards. That is what makes this a successful performance. It completely pulled me in and made the character relatable. A bad performance on the other hand is when you don't understand a character's logic or mindset. When you don't understand their emotions. None of that is true in the case of  Windsor. Luckily, Weber also spotted something in Windsor and would cast her in additional films such as "The Blot" (1921) and "What Do Men Want Want?" (1921).

Meanwhile actress Mona Lisa plays a "bad girl, gone good" character, adding morality to this melodrama. Though unlike the works of Frank Borzage a bit later - a prominent filmmaker from the 1920s and 30s - Weber and "Too Wise Wives" is not preachy. The screenplay never makes Lisa's character out to be a villain, despite her seductress ways. Instead we recognize she is really a good person but she is hiding her true self. That explains why Weber gave the film a homophone title. Yes, we are dealing with two wives but their "problem" is they are too wise for their own good. They need to think less and trust more with their hearts. 

This is perfectly conveyed in the way  Weber creates the distinction between the Graham's having breakfast and the Daly's. Mr. Daly appears please with his wife. Mrs. Daly does nothing to agitate her husband. If Mr. Daly doesn't like his breakfast, Mrs. Daly doesn't take it as a personal rejection, the way Mrs. Graham would. But underneath that façade of domestic bliss, Mrs. Daly lacks the affectionate look that Mrs. Graham has in her eyes. It isn't until the end of the film, when Mrs. Daly makes a request of her husband, after a humiliating experience, does Mrs. Daly show vulnerability, which makes her human. Only than does she appreciate her husband and understand the emotional dynamics that goes into a relationship.

A message such as this will be "problematic" for some modern viewers, especially those with a political bent. They will be expecting a "feminist film", since this was directed by a woman. This type of thinking however causes a disconnect for modern viewers when they watch older films. They want to retroactively apply modern politics to 100 year old movies. In the case of Lois Weber specifically, these same kind of viewers are expecting her to make social commentaries aimed at tearing down the patriarchy. This actually reduces Weber and ignores her true talent and abilities as a filmmaker. It's part of the problem when you are political first, human second, only watching movies that validate your political beliefs. If  "Too Wise Wives" isn't feminist, it is not a betrayal of womanhood on Weber's part - I actually read that! Just because someone is a woman, doesn't mean they are automatically a feminist. Phyllis Schlafly anyone? Furthermore, there is no proof  that Weber was a self-identified feminist. The great movie critic, Molly Haskell, wrote in her seminal book, From Reverence to Rape the following about Weber, "Her surviving, and presumably more commercially successful, films are conventional melodramas of the kind that were being turned out by the truckload in every studio. There is even evidence for supporting that her sympathies were at the very least mixed, if not blatantly opposed to feminism". In fact there is a scene in this film where women are gathered at a political meeting - remember women had won the right to vote a year earlier - and Weber makes a joke about how some women don't even know the issues.

None of this is to suggest that Lois Weber was not a remarkable figure. There is much feminist can find extremely deserving of admiration. Historians believe she was the first  American woman to direct a movie in 1914. By 1916 she was one of the highest paid directors at Universal Pictures, making $5,000 a week. The following year, she was running her own movie studio - Lois Weber Pictures - making her once again the first American woman to do so. Her films were commercially successful, making her one of the most popular - and important - directors of her era, regardless of gender. Her technical craft matched the likes of D.W. Griffith. And while "Too Wise Wives" may not be a prime example, Weber's films did tackle big social issues such as hypocrisy, class, marriage, and even birth control.

This is what makes it all the more frustrating when women like Weber have been ignored and forgotten about in film history. In the early years of cinema, women were a significant part of its history. There were tremendously talented women who were directors, writers, and major box-office stars. Names like Alice Guy-Blache, Helen Holmes, Mabel Normand, Grace Cunard, Nell Shipman and Alice Howell all contributed to make the movies what they would become. 

The emergence of the Hollywood studio system is what many feminist film theorists and critics believe caused the erasure of these great artists from film history books. The shift from independent filmmaking, which allowed a filmmaker like Weber to flourish, transformed into a male dominated business. With a new priority on profits, Hollywood deemed men more suitable for the task of handling these projects, pushing aside female voices.

There has been a process in the works - driven mostly by female movie critics - to acknowledge these directors and highlight their contributions. More film lovers are now aware that Alice Guy-Blache may have directed the first fictional film in 1896 ("The Cabbage Fairy"), that director Dorothy Arzner invented the boom mic, or that silent film comedy was comprised of more than just Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd. There was Polly Moran and Alice Howell for example. We have people like the excellent critic Elizabeth Weitzman to thank for this, the author of Renegade Women in Film & TV and Alicia Malone, who wrote The Female Gaze, and DVD sets like "Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers", distributed by KINO.

Hopefully this will also lead to greater exposure of  Weber's work. We must be careful however not to reduce her to a symbol. Weber was a great filmmaker not because she was a woman but because she had talent. Female directors shouldn't be treated as novelties and they shouldn't be expected to have progressive views. These women were products of their times, under the same social pressures as anyone else. Weber's work excels because of this. She not only captured her time but found the universality of the human existence. That is more valuable than politics because it is the mark of an artist and not an activist.

"Too Wise Wives" may not be considered one of Lois Weber's great works but it is never-the-less an essential piece that underscores the qualities that defined her films - subtlety, nuance, interiority - and showcases her technical craftsmanship for being able to visualize character psychology. It is one of my favorite Weber films.