I don't wish to take away from the broad worth of this film, but it feels necessary to add a caveat right from the start. As soon as it begins - or, depending on the rendition one watches, as soon as star William S. Hart begins his introduction - one observes an issue worth mentioning. 'Tumbleweeds' is the story of conflict between vanishing cattlemen and incoming homesteaders in the territory of what would become Oklahoma. While waxing poetic about life on the open range, the loss of an honored practice, and the development of unspoiled lands, at no time is there a word spared for the forced removal of Cherokee from the same region that is said to have "belonged" to ranchers and cowboys. Yes, of course such ignorance is part and parcel of how the United States has operated since white folks first came to these shores, nevermind cinematic storytelling in the early days of the medium, but all this is to say that in this one regard, this picture has not aged well.
That immediate note is unfortunate, for set aside this glaring conceit and take the feature as face value, and it's well made and entertaining, and even charming. Set aside that one issue, and this has, in fact, otherwise aged very well! One certainly sees the underpinnings of all the westerns to follow in subsequent years: showcasing the stark beauty of vast stretches of land; telling a tale of hope and desperation amidst major conflict and power struggles; and, despite any bright spots or the "happy endings" we might get in some titles, an undercurrent of sorrow or even bleakness in light of the most dour of the proceedings and themes. Though 'Tumbleweeds' may not convey the entirety of this complexity, it's kind of impressive just how much one gleans from it, and how much it does even without significant audio or any verbal dialogue. Hal G. Evarts' screenplay is unexpectedly rich, offering up complicated characters of some real depth and heart, dialogue (by way of intertitles) and scene writing of surprising vibrancy and variety, and a genuinely compelling narrative. One can't overlook the noted indelicacy, but such as this feature is and the story it wants to tell, it's honestly terrific.
'Tumbleweeds' deftly blends drama, flourishes of comedy, and somewhat thrilling action sequences of one size or another into its unmistakably western saga. It's astonishingly well balanced in its storytelling, resulting in a viewing experience that's more earnestly entertaining and satisfying than I'd have ever assumed sights unseen - many were the pictures of the silent era; relatively few were those of especial worth, standing out in one way or another. This specific film doesn't look like much from the outside looking in, but there's a sincerity and intelligence in the production that elevates it considerably. And to that point, the cast is rather fantastic, demonstrating range, nuance, and otherwise skill beyond what the uninitiated might think such a movie has to offer. Hart certainly stands out given his starring role, but I'm also quite impressed with Lucien Littlefield, shining in his supporting part. Just as Richard Neill and J. Gordon Russell provide a particular point of unsavory antagonism to the plot, Barbara Bedford and Jack Murphy provide some welcome warmth. And so it is on down the line, with all on hand performing admirably.
All the hard work that went into it is readily discernible and commendable: the production design and art direction; costume design, stunts, sparing effects. The scene of the land rush itself is marvelously well orchestrated, an unquestionably intricate sequence that, for its stunning presentation here, readily boosts the overall value of the film. King Baggot's direction is solid; though not really remarkable, the cinematography and editing is perfectly capable. The excellence of all these facets serves the title well as it crams a substantial amount of content into 80 minutes, and does so very smoothly. Why, I'll say, too: some silent pictures bore a decidedly stilted plot development, affecting narrative flow, and distinct divisions between shots and scenes that lent to a heightened sense of having been staged. To the credit of all involved, it seems to me like 'Tumbleweeds' has no such difficulty, progressing from beginning to end with marked story beats, but also a welcome fluidity. If that doesn't speak well to the fine film-making on display, then I don't know what does.
For all that is done so well, I can understand that this movie still may not appeal to anyone who isn't already enamored of the silent era. If to a lesser extent than its contemporaries, it still bears all the hallmarks, for good and for ill. Yet I can only repeat that I recognize in 'Tumbleweeds' a resplendence of brilliant craftsmanship of all sorts that makes it an indelible classic. Almost 100 years later this isn't a picture of any significant renown, and I find this very regrettable - the one most notable flaw it bears is one that's cultural and historical as much as it is cinematic, and in every other way it's tremendously well done. Writing, direction, acting, and all the contributions of those behind the scenes are swell. Whether one is a fan of westerns specifically or just a cinephile generally, this strikes me as a feature that's well worth exploring, and perhaps also discussing in light of its historical context. I had mixed expectations when I sat to watch, and though there's an asterisk appended, I'm so very pleased with how good it turned out to be. 'Tumbleweeds' is roundly superb, and altogether underappreciated.
That immediate note is unfortunate, for set aside this glaring conceit and take the feature as face value, and it's well made and entertaining, and even charming. Set aside that one issue, and this has, in fact, otherwise aged very well! One certainly sees the underpinnings of all the westerns to follow in subsequent years: showcasing the stark beauty of vast stretches of land; telling a tale of hope and desperation amidst major conflict and power struggles; and, despite any bright spots or the "happy endings" we might get in some titles, an undercurrent of sorrow or even bleakness in light of the most dour of the proceedings and themes. Though 'Tumbleweeds' may not convey the entirety of this complexity, it's kind of impressive just how much one gleans from it, and how much it does even without significant audio or any verbal dialogue. Hal G. Evarts' screenplay is unexpectedly rich, offering up complicated characters of some real depth and heart, dialogue (by way of intertitles) and scene writing of surprising vibrancy and variety, and a genuinely compelling narrative. One can't overlook the noted indelicacy, but such as this feature is and the story it wants to tell, it's honestly terrific.
'Tumbleweeds' deftly blends drama, flourishes of comedy, and somewhat thrilling action sequences of one size or another into its unmistakably western saga. It's astonishingly well balanced in its storytelling, resulting in a viewing experience that's more earnestly entertaining and satisfying than I'd have ever assumed sights unseen - many were the pictures of the silent era; relatively few were those of especial worth, standing out in one way or another. This specific film doesn't look like much from the outside looking in, but there's a sincerity and intelligence in the production that elevates it considerably. And to that point, the cast is rather fantastic, demonstrating range, nuance, and otherwise skill beyond what the uninitiated might think such a movie has to offer. Hart certainly stands out given his starring role, but I'm also quite impressed with Lucien Littlefield, shining in his supporting part. Just as Richard Neill and J. Gordon Russell provide a particular point of unsavory antagonism to the plot, Barbara Bedford and Jack Murphy provide some welcome warmth. And so it is on down the line, with all on hand performing admirably.
All the hard work that went into it is readily discernible and commendable: the production design and art direction; costume design, stunts, sparing effects. The scene of the land rush itself is marvelously well orchestrated, an unquestionably intricate sequence that, for its stunning presentation here, readily boosts the overall value of the film. King Baggot's direction is solid; though not really remarkable, the cinematography and editing is perfectly capable. The excellence of all these facets serves the title well as it crams a substantial amount of content into 80 minutes, and does so very smoothly. Why, I'll say, too: some silent pictures bore a decidedly stilted plot development, affecting narrative flow, and distinct divisions between shots and scenes that lent to a heightened sense of having been staged. To the credit of all involved, it seems to me like 'Tumbleweeds' has no such difficulty, progressing from beginning to end with marked story beats, but also a welcome fluidity. If that doesn't speak well to the fine film-making on display, then I don't know what does.
For all that is done so well, I can understand that this movie still may not appeal to anyone who isn't already enamored of the silent era. If to a lesser extent than its contemporaries, it still bears all the hallmarks, for good and for ill. Yet I can only repeat that I recognize in 'Tumbleweeds' a resplendence of brilliant craftsmanship of all sorts that makes it an indelible classic. Almost 100 years later this isn't a picture of any significant renown, and I find this very regrettable - the one most notable flaw it bears is one that's cultural and historical as much as it is cinematic, and in every other way it's tremendously well done. Writing, direction, acting, and all the contributions of those behind the scenes are swell. Whether one is a fan of westerns specifically or just a cinephile generally, this strikes me as a feature that's well worth exploring, and perhaps also discussing in light of its historical context. I had mixed expectations when I sat to watch, and though there's an asterisk appended, I'm so very pleased with how good it turned out to be. 'Tumbleweeds' is roundly superb, and altogether underappreciated.