Monte Cristo (film) dir. by Joseph A. Golden and Edwin S. Porter, Eugene O'Neill (review)

This rare film, starring James O'Neill at the age of sixty-seven, marked one of the highlights of the inaugural Eugene O'Neill International Festival of Theatre in the O'Neill Irish home place. In the parlance of James O'Neill's era, the show was for one night only. As he might have ordered up himself, a brass band turned out for the occasion to play Irish airs and to salute the homecoming of the lad who had left from the nearby quay in 1850, bound for Quebec and Buffalo. It is true that James's father, Edmund, was to return by himself a few years later, aged much the same as James was to be in making the film, possibly in an attempt to regain the lost family farm. But it seems James never set foot in New Ross again, even if he did visit Ireland (which remains unclear). Accordingly, this festival enthusiastically took "homecoming" as its theme, and the speeches on stage before the showing of the film successfully created the illusion of return. These were delivered by a descendant, Alice O'Neill McLoughlin, and Richard Hayes, a distinguished O'Neill scholar from the Waterford Institute of Technology, both of whom reappeared after the film with more information on both the O'Neills from Tinneranny and the film, much to the appreciation of the capacity audience.

And so to the silent film itself, Monte Cristo, entertainingly accompanied for this showing by local pianist and composer Phil Collins. The credits informed the audience that the film was "Photographed from the Library of Congress Paper Film Collections by Renocare Company," meaning, it would appear, that it has survived a laborious process of restoration, possibly in the 1960s. A second title card recorded the copyright date of 1912 and other information. The significance of the copyright detail relates to another film of Alexandre Dumas's novel made by William Nicholas Delig that same year and released in England on December 15.

The primary interest of this Monte Cristoresides, of course, in the performance of Eugene O'Neill's father. We can acknowledge that behind the film lies the play and behind the play lies the 1846 novel, written in French but promptly translated into English. The play, known as the Fechter version after the adaptor Charles Fechter but further altered by James O'Neill to suit his itinerant trade, differs sharply from the novel. More significantly, the film, without dialogue, differs sharply from the play and is cut to approximately one hour. Everything is condensed into five "parts" (reels), and the action moves swiftly by the use of cross-cutting scenes and of intertitles to inform viewers of salient shifts of plot. Time and space are freely exploited (there being outdoor as well as indoor scenes), and yet it can be said that there is unity of action, as Edmund Dantès accelerates his revenge once he has found the treasure and reaches the finale in which two of his enemies die within minutes and he can simultaneously raise three fingers (they don't call him Count for nothing) and have Mercédès unite him with his son Albert for the closing tableau. Thanks to the pianist, we could take it all without fear of post-traumatic stress.

James O'Neill's performance is riveting. Everything is nonchalantly tailored to the simplified medium of silent film. James is short in stature, long in stagecraft. Way back in 1879, he was described as "of medium height, [with a] well proportioned figure, square shoulders and stands very erect. He has black hair, black eyes, rather dark complexion, a black mustache and a fine set of teeth, which he knows how to display to advantage" ( San Francisco Chronicle, August 3). The first part of this description applies wholly to the O'Neill we see in the...