IMDb RATING
7.2/10
11K
YOUR RATING
A frail waif, abused by her brutal boxer father in London's seedy Limehouse District, is befriended by a sensitive Chinese immigrant with tragic consequences.A frail waif, abused by her brutal boxer father in London's seedy Limehouse District, is befriended by a sensitive Chinese immigrant with tragic consequences.A frail waif, abused by her brutal boxer father in London's seedy Limehouse District, is befriended by a sensitive Chinese immigrant with tragic consequences.
- Awards
- 1 win
Lillian Gish
- Lucy - The Girl
- (as Miss Lillian Gish)
Richard Barthelmess
- Cheng Huan - The Yellow Man
- (as Mr. Richard Barthelmess)
Edward Peil Sr.
- Evil Eye
- (as Edward Peil)
Ernest Butterworth
- Secondary Role
- (uncredited)
Fred Hamer
- Secondary Role
- (uncredited)
Wilbur Higby
- London Policeman
- (uncredited)
Man-Ching Kwan
- Buddhist Monk
- (uncredited)
Bobbie Mack
- Ringside Employee
- (uncredited)
Moy Ming
- Minor Role
- (uncredited)
Steve Murphy
- Fight Spectator
- (uncredited)
George Nichols
- Police Constable
- (uncredited)
Karla Schramm
- Burrows' Girlfriend
- (uncredited)
Bessie Wong
- Girl in China
- (uncredited)
- Director
- D.W. Griffith(under the personal direction of)
- Writers
- All cast & crew
- Production, box office & more at IMDbPro
Storyline
Did you know
- TriviaWhile filming the closet scene, Lillian Gish's performance of pure terror was so realistic that D.W. Griffith was compelled to shout back at her and urge her further. A passerby heard this going on and, convinced that something terrible was going on, had to be restrained from entering the studio.
- GoofsThe intertitles state, "The Buddha says, 'What thou dost not want others to do thee, do thou not to others.'" It was actually not the Buddha but Confucius' teaching.
- Quotes
Lucy Burrows: Don't do it, Daddy! You'll hit me once too often - and then they'll - they'll hang yer!
- ConnectionsFeatured in The Philco Television Playhouse: The Birth of the Movies (1951)
Featured review
"With perhaps a whiff of the lilied pipe still in his brain..."
Turning away from the epic scale of his quintessential movies, Birth of a Nation and Intolerance, director D. W. Griffith turned to an altogether smaller and more intimate story in 1919. Instead of telling a vast tale spanning millennia and featuring a cast of thousands, he focused his attention on the tragic interplay between just three people: a Chinese immigrant to London (Richard Barthelmess), a young waif with whom he develops a brief but touching relationship (Lillian Gish), and her brutish father (Donald Crisp). It's been suggested this was another sop by Griffith to those who had accused him of being a racist due to the content of BoaN although, while Bathelmess' Chinese immigrant is a completely sympathetic character, the thoughtless racist attitudes that were commonplace back then are still very much in evidence. For example, the movie's secondary title is 'The Yellow Man and the Girl', and during a tender love scene, Gish's Lucy says to him: "Why are you so good to me, Chinky?" which tends to break the mood just a tad.
Griffith's trademark use of tiny gestures and changes of expression is very much in evidence in the performances of Barthelmess and Gish, while Crisp, who is barely recognisable as the kindly patriarch of countless 40s flicks, paints a broader picture of the loutish Battling Burrows. This counterpoint between screen father and daughter works well, stressing the fragile nature of Gish's waif, while emphasising the misery of her dependence upon her uncouth father. Barthelmess, meanwhile spends much of his time gazing miserably at the bleakness of the world around him as his character tries to lose himself in a haze of opium after failing to spread the word of peace. Chen seems to be moving through a dream for much of the film, passively allowing himself to be buffered by the world, and only shaking himself from his torpor when Lucy almost literally falls at his feet. This scene, in which Lucy and Chen first meet, is wonderfully atmospheric and beautifully framed and is, strangely, the prelude to the film's weakest segment. Having set the scene beautifully and created a great atmosphere, Griffith allows proceedings to slip into melodrama. While Battling's discovery of Lucy's new friendship is melodrama of the most Victorian kind, the relationship between the two potential lovers goes nowhere which, while perhaps true to the film's title, leaves the story struggling for momentum. Lucy enjoys a few hours of being spoiled by Chen the first time in her life that she ever has been, but there is very little interaction between them, and Chen's apparent consideration of forcing himself on Lucy before finally kissing her sleeve really doesn't ring true at all. In fact, the scene looks as if it were added almost as an afterthought to inject a little suspense.
Nevertheless, BROKEN BLOSSOMS is another example of one of the world's greatest directors operating at somewhere close to the top of his game. In another few years, Griffith's Victorian viewpoint would look horribly outdated to the Roaring Twenties crowd. There were still more classics to come, but in terms of technical and creative accomplishment he had already peaked.
Griffith's trademark use of tiny gestures and changes of expression is very much in evidence in the performances of Barthelmess and Gish, while Crisp, who is barely recognisable as the kindly patriarch of countless 40s flicks, paints a broader picture of the loutish Battling Burrows. This counterpoint between screen father and daughter works well, stressing the fragile nature of Gish's waif, while emphasising the misery of her dependence upon her uncouth father. Barthelmess, meanwhile spends much of his time gazing miserably at the bleakness of the world around him as his character tries to lose himself in a haze of opium after failing to spread the word of peace. Chen seems to be moving through a dream for much of the film, passively allowing himself to be buffered by the world, and only shaking himself from his torpor when Lucy almost literally falls at his feet. This scene, in which Lucy and Chen first meet, is wonderfully atmospheric and beautifully framed and is, strangely, the prelude to the film's weakest segment. Having set the scene beautifully and created a great atmosphere, Griffith allows proceedings to slip into melodrama. While Battling's discovery of Lucy's new friendship is melodrama of the most Victorian kind, the relationship between the two potential lovers goes nowhere which, while perhaps true to the film's title, leaves the story struggling for momentum. Lucy enjoys a few hours of being spoiled by Chen the first time in her life that she ever has been, but there is very little interaction between them, and Chen's apparent consideration of forcing himself on Lucy before finally kissing her sleeve really doesn't ring true at all. In fact, the scene looks as if it were added almost as an afterthought to inject a little suspense.
Nevertheless, BROKEN BLOSSOMS is another example of one of the world's greatest directors operating at somewhere close to the top of his game. In another few years, Griffith's Victorian viewpoint would look horribly outdated to the Roaring Twenties crowd. There were still more classics to come, but in terms of technical and creative accomplishment he had already peaked.
helpful•30
- JoeytheBrit
- Jan 20, 2007
- How long is Broken Blossoms?Powered by Alexa
Details
- Release date
- Country of origin
- Language
- Also known as
- Broken Blossoms or the Yellow Man and the Girl
- Filming locations
- Production company
- See more company credits at IMDbPro
Box office
- Budget
- $88,000 (estimated)
- Runtime1 hour 30 minutes
- Sound mix
- Aspect ratio
- 1.33 : 1
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