Drawing equally from folklore, contemporary culture, and regional interpretations of religious mythology and holiday practices, Nikolai Gogol's 1832 story 'Christmas Eve,' or 'The night before Christmas,' is a charming, lighthearted tale of whimsy that remains enchanting nearly two centuries later. It stands to reason that most any cinematic adaptation of that tale would be rich and imaginative, and indeed we saw this with Aleksandr Rou's film of 1961. Even the earliest years of the medium boasted creative innovators, however, like French pioneer Georges Méliès - and I think we can surely say that Ladislas Starevich also deserves to be counted among such company. In all capacities the production values may be simple and modest compared to what would be developed in subsequent years, yet the relative lack of sophistication does not mean that there is any less detail or ingenuity in the visions to greet us. On the contrary, I'm of the mind that such unassuming presentation has helped this 1913 feature to age better than some of its successors. As technology and techniques have continually improved for computer-generated imagery and post-production wizardry the digital splendor of today may well be tomorrow's laughable trash; on the other hand, even the most uncomplicated practical effects and tangible creations will always look better than the most pristine sights conjured from a motherboard, and the endearing fancifulness of the silent era endures unbothered by the passage of time.
Thus do the sets here remain striking and inviting, and we wish could could step through our screens and explore them inch by inch. The costume design is lovely, not to mention the hair and makeup. Any effects that are employed are of a nature that plainly betrays the inauthenticity, yet as our own imagination is engaged with suspension of disbelief there is a magical appeal thereto that lasts even in 2023, meeting or beating whatever otherworldly grandeur we might get in the latest superhero flick or space opera. Why, comparatively elementary as some effects may be, the use and achievement here are arguably more impressive, and genuinely more special, given that the medium was still only in its infancy. Factor in the animated performances of the cast, and the result is an inventive realization of Gogol's story of witchcraft, devilish mischief, and romance during the holiday season. With all this in mind I don't think Starevich's rendition is wholly perfect; there are details and nuances in the original prose, and in other adaptations to follow, that are missing from these forty-one minutes. In some measure the filmmaker cut corners, and not every beat is given its full due. Even at that, though, the movie is solid as a whole, and thoroughly enjoyable. Both on its merits and as a surviving silent film it is a treasure that deserves continued recognition and viewership, and anyone who appreciates such classics will feel right at home here. It may not be a total must-see, and it certainly won't appeal to all, but especially given its brisk runtime 'The night before Christmas' is a minor delight that's worth watching if you have the chance.
Thus do the sets here remain striking and inviting, and we wish could could step through our screens and explore them inch by inch. The costume design is lovely, not to mention the hair and makeup. Any effects that are employed are of a nature that plainly betrays the inauthenticity, yet as our own imagination is engaged with suspension of disbelief there is a magical appeal thereto that lasts even in 2023, meeting or beating whatever otherworldly grandeur we might get in the latest superhero flick or space opera. Why, comparatively elementary as some effects may be, the use and achievement here are arguably more impressive, and genuinely more special, given that the medium was still only in its infancy. Factor in the animated performances of the cast, and the result is an inventive realization of Gogol's story of witchcraft, devilish mischief, and romance during the holiday season. With all this in mind I don't think Starevich's rendition is wholly perfect; there are details and nuances in the original prose, and in other adaptations to follow, that are missing from these forty-one minutes. In some measure the filmmaker cut corners, and not every beat is given its full due. Even at that, though, the movie is solid as a whole, and thoroughly enjoyable. Both on its merits and as a surviving silent film it is a treasure that deserves continued recognition and viewership, and anyone who appreciates such classics will feel right at home here. It may not be a total must-see, and it certainly won't appeal to all, but especially given its brisk runtime 'The night before Christmas' is a minor delight that's worth watching if you have the chance.
