Of all the products issued by Flicker Alley, MISS MEND is certainly the most unusual so far. Intended by the Soviets as a satire of Western style entertainment, this movie has a little something for every silent film fan from the French serials of Feuillade to the American cliffhangers of Pearl White and Helen Holmes. Throw in a little Fritz Lang for good measure and you have a unique offering that can’t quite seem to make up its mind as to what it wants to be.
It starts off as a protest film with our heroine, a lowly typist, getting involved in a worker’s strike at the “Rocfeller” plant. Three “intrepid” journalists enter the fray each one pining after the heroine. We are then introduced to an engineer who is more than he seems at first and a cute little boy with a dark secret. Finally we meet the nefarious villain, Chiche, a demented capitalist who will stop at nothing to destroy Soviet Russia. This he hopes to accomplish through an early form of germ warfare. Can our heroine/heroes stop him in time? Stretch this out over 4 hours and you have a film that remains fascinating to watch although it can be hard to follow.
Flicker Alley & Co. have done their usual fine job in bringing another silent offering to us. The film, transferred from 35mm material, looks very good especially considering its obscurity (it was panned by Soviet critics for incorporating the very things it was poking fun at although the masses loved it). I may have run across it in a reference book but if I did, I don’t recall it so I am delighted to become acquainted with another title that I’m unfamiliar with.
The movie has been given new English intertitles and is accompanied by another fine score from Robert Israel. Part of the fun for me is listening for the classical music and popular music of the day quotations that he uses. While I can’t imagine people lining up to buy the DVD (even silent film enthusiasts), it is like all Flicker Alley offerings, a quality release worthy of our time and the extra cost. Just don’t expect BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN or MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA or even THE PERILS OF PAULINE.
The Capsule Critic 