The Dumb Girl of Portici

Plot

Set in 17th century Naples under Spanish rule, 'The Dumb Girl of Portici' tells the tragic story of Fenella, a mute fisherwoman who falls deeply in love with Alfonso, the son of the Spanish Viceroy. After being seduced and abandoned by Alfonso, who must marry a Spanish princess for political reasons, Fenella's heartbreak and despair become a catalyst for the Neapolitan people's rebellion against their Spanish oppressors. The film follows Fenella's journey from innocent love to betrayed woman, as her personal tragedy intertwines with the political uprising that ultimately leads to the massacre of the Spanish officials. In the devastating climax, Fenella realizes her role in the bloodshed and throws herself into the erupting Mount Vesuvius, bringing the story to a tragic end as the volcano symbolically mirrors the explosive social and political turmoil.

Historical Background

The film was produced during World War I, a time when the American film industry was beginning to dominate global markets as European production was disrupted by the conflict. 1916 was also a pivotal year in cinema's artistic development, with feature-length films becoming increasingly common and sophisticated. The adaptation of a famous opera reflected Hollywood's growing ambitions to legitimize cinema as a high art form capable of adapting prestigious cultural works. The film's themes of revolution and oppression resonated with contemporary audiences experiencing the upheaval of WWI, while its setting in Naples tapped into America's growing fascination with European culture. This period also saw the rise of the star system, with Pavlova's casting representing an early example of importing established cultural celebrities from other mediums to lend prestige to the new art of cinema.

Making Of

The making of 'The Dumb Girl of Portici' was marked by the challenge of bringing one of the world's most famous performing artists to the relatively new medium of cinema. Anna Pavlova, who had never acted in films before, was reportedly nervous about the camera and required special accommodations during filming. The production team had to adapt their filming techniques to capture her balletic movements effectively, using longer takes and wider shots than typical for the era. Director Phillips Smalley, working alongside his wife Lois Weber (though her exact role is disputed), focused on creating a visually spectacular production that would justify Pavlova's enormous salary. The volcano sequence, a climactic highlight of the film, involved extensive miniature work and matte paintings that were considered state-of-the-art for 1916. Despite Pavlova's initial reservations about film, she reportedly enjoyed the experience but never made another movie, preferring the immediacy of live performance.

Visual Style

The cinematography, credited to William C. McGann and Leonard Smith, employed techniques particularly suited to capturing Pavlova's graceful movements. The camera work utilized longer takes and wider framing than typical for the period, allowing the full range of Pavlova's balletic gestures to be visible. The film made effective use of depth in its crowd scenes during the revolutionary sequences, creating a sense of scale and chaos. The volcanic eruption sequence employed innovative special effects photography, combining miniatures with live action through matte shots and multiple exposures. The lighting design emphasized dramatic contrasts, particularly in scenes featuring Fenella's emotional turmoil. The visual style reflected the influence of European art cinema, with careful attention to composition and the use of architectural elements to frame characters and enhance the historical setting.

Innovations

The film was notable for its advanced special effects, particularly in the volcanic eruption sequence which used a combination of miniatures, smoke effects, and clever editing to create a convincing disaster scene. The production employed large-scale crowd control techniques for the revolutionary scenes, coordinating hundreds of extras in complex action sequences. The set design was unusually elaborate for 1916, with detailed recreations of 17th-century Neapolitan streets and buildings. The film also experimented with color tinting, using amber tones for daylight scenes and blue tints for night sequences to enhance mood and atmosphere. The camera work included some early attempts at tracking shots to follow Pavlova's movements, requiring innovative equipment modifications for the period.

Music

As a silent film, 'The Dumb Girl of Portici' would have been accompanied by live musical performance during its original theatrical run. The score was likely adapted from Auber's original opera, with additional popular and classical pieces appropriate to the dramatic situations. Large theaters would have employed full orchestras, while smaller venues might have used a piano or organ accompaniment. The music would have been particularly important for conveying Fenella's emotions since she could not speak or sing. Contemporary theater orchestras often created cue sheets for films, suggesting specific musical pieces for different scenes. Given the film's operatic origins, the musical accompaniment would have been more elaborate and sophisticated than typical for melodramas of the period.

Memorable Scenes

• The opening market scene where Fenella first encounters Alfonso, showcasing Pavlova's graceful movement through the bustling Neapolitan crowd
• The romantic balcony sequence where Fenella and Alfonso express their love through gestures and music
• The betrayal scene where Fenella discovers Alfonso's arranged marriage, conveyed through Pavlova's expressive performance
• The revolutionary uprising sequence with hundreds of extras storming the Spanish palace
• The climactic volcanic eruption where Fenella throws herself into Vesuvius as it explodes, combining special effects with dramatic performance

What Critics Said

Contemporary critics generally praised the film's visual spectacle and Pavlova's performance, though some noted that her balletic style seemed somewhat out of place in the dramatic context. The New York Times review focused heavily on Pavlova's presence, describing her as 'a vision of grace and beauty' while acknowledging that the film served primarily as a vehicle for her talents. Variety appreciated the production's ambition and scale, noting that 'the revolutionary scenes are staged with impressive vigor.' Modern critics and film historians view the film as an interesting artifact of its time, valuable primarily for documenting Pavlova's screen work and as an example of early prestige filmmaking. The film is often discussed in the context of ballet history and the cross-pollination between different art forms in the early 20th century.

What Audiences Thought

Audiences in major cities where Pavlova had performed ballet were particularly drawn to the film, creating significant box office interest in urban markets. The film attracted both regular moviegoers and more affluent cultural consumers who might not typically attend cinema, thanks to Pavlova's involvement. However, in smaller towns and rural areas where Pavlova's fame was less recognized, the film performed more modestly. Contemporary accounts suggest that audiences were especially impressed by the elaborate production values and the dramatic volcano sequence, which provided the kind of spectacle that silent film audiences craved. The film's tragic ending and romantic themes resonated with audiences of the period, though some found the story somewhat melodramatic even by the standards of 1916 cinema.

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