Best movie ever!

I like movies that are aware of what they are selling... without [any] greater aspirations than to make people laugh and that's it.

It was OK. I don't see why everyone loves it so much. It wasn't very smart or deep or well-directed.

Actress is magnificent and exudes a hypnotic screen presence in this affecting drama.

This silent movie is an adaptation of Oscar Wilde's play of the same name, starring Mitchell Lewis as Herod, Alla Nazimova as Salome, and Rose Dione (who played Madame Tetrallini in "Freaks") as Herodias, wife of Herod. The director was Charles Bryant.I've read Wilde's play but never seen it. I was concerned about taking this great poet's play and making it a silent movie, but overall I think the movie is a success. However, I stopped expecting the play and took the film on its own. There are some long title cards to wade through with some of Wilde's dialogue, but basically we have to take the movie as its own silent work of art.This is a movie I would recommend only to select portions of viewing audiences. The sets were by Natacha Rambova, and they were an attempt to suggest the Aubrey Beardsley illustrations in the printed copy of Wilde's script. The sets and scene designs are excellent in and of themselves and capture Beardsley's spirit admirably. Much of the opening is composed of static shots of actors posing, giving I suppose the Beardsley-like sets the attention they merit, but some audiences may find the opening shots unintentionally humorous and perhaps over-long. The costumes are also clearly inspired by Beardsley, so while we have suggestions of clothing worn by Sadducees, Pharisees, Romans, and so on, great liberties were taken, and the materials were much richer than I imagine was available back in the days of Herod. The style was much grander, as well. One of Salome's costumes is a totally modern strapless mini- dress, by the way, and Herodias reminded me throughout of Robert Crumb's prototypical hippie woman.The acting, like the sets and costumes, was not natural at all. This is a very stylized production. I was amazed, though, by Nazimova's pantomime of expressions flitting across her face as she was wooed by Herod and then rejected his advances. Nevertheless, much of the acting is dramatic posing of the characters for a few seconds in a static shot.Yet ... many of those static shots are excellent compositions with great lighting, especially the chiaroscuro effects when we see Jokaanan (also spelled Iokaanan) in his cell. It's a fascinating movie with many faults, I'm afraid. (I am reminded for some reason of Charles Laughton's "Night of the Hunter.")I think this version of "Salome" will be appreciated by select groups; persons interested in Beardsley, Expressionism, art films, scene and costume design, and other such esoterica will find the movie more interesting than general audiences, but general audiences may be intrigued by "Salome" as well.As a note, Natacha Rambova was born in Salt Lake City as Winifred Shaughnessy. At 17, she ran off to New York City, changed her name, and studied ballet under Russian Theodore Kosloff. Rambova began an affair with the married Kosloff, and her mother brought charges of statutory rape against him. Rambova fled to England to avoid the trial, and her mother relented, giving Rambova her way. It was through Kosloff that Rambova and Nazimova met. The affair with Kosloff ended (he shot her as she was leaving), and Rambova began an affair with an American actor known as Rudolph Valentino. Valentino was married at the time, and the affair complicated the divorce, but eventually Rambova and he were married. She worked with him on several of his films as costume and art designer.Nazimova was born in Yalta as Miriam Leventon. She took as her stage name that of a character in the Russian novel "Children of the Streets." She was a major star in pre-World War I Russia and was brought to Broadway, where she was also popular. She also became a star in Hollywood, and she began producing and directing her own films. However, "Salome" was such a complete failure that she could no longer attract financing, so she returned to the stage.Ken Russell directed a movie in 1988 called "Salome's Last Dance," which incorporated the play as part of a somewhat larger story involving Oscar Wilde's birthday. I'd forgotten who Ken Russell is until I saw the film. Only Stratford Johns (as Herod) was good in his role; the rest of the actors (including Glenda Jackson, I'm sorry to say) engaged in histrionics to put it mildly. Imogen Millais-Scott (as Salome) had two expressions: opening her eyes very widely and squinting. However, there was lots of nudity to save the day. Ken Russell fans will love the movie, but it's of little help appreciating Wilde's one act play, which must be padded to make it a full length movie (by, for example, adding in stuff about Wilde's birthday). Bryant's version follows the play and runs about an hour; "Salome's Last Dance" goes for an hour and a half.Millais-Scott has her own interesting story. She had diabetes since childhood and was legally blind when the movie was made. She has since had a transplant of kidneys and pancreas after renal failure; the transplanted pancreas has cured her diabetes (though not her blindness), but she has not returned to acting.

Salomé is set in the palace of Herod, actually in a feasting hall and a courtyard only, so it's a very hermetic movie. The idea is that Salomé is annoyed about John the Baptist rejecting her advances and so asks for his head on a silver platter, this is after she performs a highly charged dance for her father, for which he agrees to grant her any wish.The art design is meant to be based very much on the illustrations of Aubrey Beardsley. I saw a large version of Salomé with the Head of John the Baptist at an exhibition once, it's a quite monstrously beautiful thing, and you get a feeling of a Salomé who wants to play with John's blood. If you also read Beardsley's "The Story of Venus and Tannhauser", which is a fine read, written by the great man whilst dying slowly in the casinos of Deauville, you will find naked erotic content that has nothing in common with this movie. The movie is perverse but in a quite different way, it has a beauty that is not nearly as profane as Beardsley's, but as good in its own way, it's Thespian and ripe with impotency and death. However that doesn't go anywhere near far enough in explaining the luminous and unnerving images created by Nazimova and M. Bryant.So I think the scene is set very well, of an almost pre-moral world which is metaphorically benighted. Herod presides, a fish-faced man with a droopy wreath, and dirty darkened teeth which are surrounded by a rouged mouth and a heavily whitened face. He's got the appearance of a senile erotomaniac.Salomé is a milk-and-honey-eyed nymph who peers out tentatively from kohl rings beneath a baubeled coiffure. She is ignorantly innocent as well as tempestuous, and is played by Nazimova, director Charles Bryant's wife. Beardsley's Salomé in contrast has been inducted into depraved rites.John the Baptist is a gaunt imprisoned man with a fanatic's stare who is portrayed rather irreligiously as a kind of Christian sadist, wishing all sorts of nasties on the women of the court. Shots of him in his cell are brilliant and are positively Sternberg-ian in their luminosity and blasphemous nature (think of the way Russian orthodoxy is portrayed in The Scarlet Empress).The genius of the film really I think is that it has a slow miasmic tempo, which is achieved by always having slowly wafting fans towering over the court to cool the night down.Another satisfying thing about the film is that the intertitles, presumably poached from Wilde, are extraordinarily well written. The main detractor from L'Herbier's L'Argent for me is very substandard and naive intertitles. Intertitles can generally only detract from a movie, in Salomé we have a totally unusual example of the opposite.It's a haunting movie, which more than once made me mutter astounded compliments under my breath. Examples including the "leap", the veil dance, and the peacock montage. I would like to have been there to see what they did with the veil dance to make it so diaphanous, I have an idea they could have done it with strong lighting, the effect was pretty amazing to me.

This film is the culmination of the silent era. Through the blending of mystical dance, conceptual art, and unprecedented design, Nazimova and Rambova take us all beyond the confines of any set time or place and into the murky, ever changing tides of creativity. There is simply an essence radiating from behind each scene or perhaps even filtering out through it. It's up to the viewer to give this energy it's own ideal. Few films attempt this type of transparent mysticism. One is left with the distinct impression that more than a classical tale is being told. I highly recommend this film as an addition to any collection. It's not your average black and white, but then again the distinction of difference is well-deserved.

Initially I was skeptical when I heard that Alla Nazimova, 42 when this movie was made, was playing the 14 year old dancer Salome, but except for the extreme close-ups she actually manages to pull it off. Her Salome is a pouty but utterly monstrous Lolita, who would no doubt casually order the death of any underling who didn't satisfy her most fleeting, girlish whim. Evil yes, but like Herod you can't stop looking at her in her marvelous glam headgear and wigs, looking for all the world like a party girl headed out to a nineties' rave (on the other hand her fleshy mother and leering, lipsticked stepfather suggest the grotesques of Fellini's Satyricon, making me wonder if Fellini was influenced by this movie). Still, as compelling as Nazimova's performance is, much of this film's impact arises from Natacha Rambova's eye catching costumes and set designs. Based on the Beardsley drawings that accompany some editions of Oscar Wilde's play, they often resemble insect parts—-beautiful but rather unsettling, like Herod's court itself. As far as the dramatic action goes, they are almost too eye catching –they grab your attention and hold it nearly at the expense of all else. However I'm not sure that this effect wasn't intentional on the part of both Nazimova and Rambova (the guardsmen, for example, wear clay wigs that perhaps are deliberately meant to suggest statues). As I recall the original play was rather static—it's been a while since I read it, but what I remember mainly is the exquisite, poetic dialogue rather than the plot. At any rate, the movie is probably best viewed as a series of fantastic tableaux.An odd but completely absorbing little film that deserves to be better known.