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Elektra
(1910) United States of America
B&W : One reel / 942 feet
Directed by J. Stuart Blackton
Cast: Mary Fuller [Elektra], Maurice Costello
The Vitagraph Company of America production; distributed by The Vitagraph Company of America. / Released 8 April 1910. / Standard 35mm spherical 1.33:1 format.
Drama: Historical.
Synopsis: [The Moving Picture World, 9 April 1910, page ?] Agamemnon returns to Argos from the Siege of Troy, bringing, as a prisoner and trophy of war, Cassandra, the beautiful daughter of King Priam of Troy. Clytemnestra, Agamemnon’s wife, has a lover, Aegisthus, who fans the flames of her jealousy toward Cassandra, with whom Agamemnon is very much infatuated. With caresses and expressions of admiration, Agamemnon is received by his wife and welcomed by his daughters, Elektra and Chrysothemis, and his son, Orestes. His wife is on the point of following her children from the room when she beholds her husband anxiously looking out of the window and casting longing glances at the beautiful captive, Cassandra. Clytemnestra’s lover prompts her to kill her husband with the battle-axe which the King laid aside as he entered the room. Spurred on and lashed into a jealous frenzy, the Queen kills her husband, and when Cassandra, who has seen the murder of Agamemnon through the window, rushes upon the scene, she, too, is killed by the infuriated Clytemnestra. Hearing the commotion, King Agamemnon’s children come into the room and, gazing upon the face of their dead father, are struck with horror. Elektra is so shocked that she stands spellbound and speechless until her whole nature seems to change and assert itself in an overwhelming denunciation of her mother. She calls upon her brother, Orestes, to make a vow to avenge the death of their father. When Clytemnestra marries her lover, Aegisthus, Elektra loses her reason, so possessed is she with vengeance and hatred for her mother and her consort. Orestes becomes a wanderer and adventurer. He causes a false report of his death to be carried to his mother, who rejoices at the news because it frees her from the fear of his return to avenge Agamemnon. Years pass, and Orestes, now a young man, returns to Argos and meets Elektra, who does not know him. He compassionately caresses his unfortunate sister and gradually makes himself known to her; then she remembers all, and pleads with him to carry out his vow of retribution upon Aegisthus and his mother. Orestes assures her that revenge is the object of his return. She pulls up a stone from the courtyard and reveals the axe with which their father was killed. Orestes seizes it and, rushing into the castle, kills his mother; then he goes in search of her lover, whom he comes upon and pursues from hall to turret, through a passageway and up a winding staircase, and slays him just as he is about to leap from a window, through which Elektra, in the courtyard, beholds the scene with frenzied expressions of delight in the decree of the fates.
Reviews: [The Moving Picture World, 23 April 1910, page ?] With that characteristic enterprise of theirs, the Vitagraph Company have turned this story into a film which was released last week. Rather a tragic, not to say somber, theme for a film. We certainly had some curiosity as to what the company’s producers would make of the subject, and, writing some days after seeing the picture, we want just to record our impression of it; while at the same time, we place on record the fact that the Vitagraph film “Elektra” was cordially received and applauded by the moving picture public gathered in Keith & Proctor’s Bijou Dream, on Twenty-third street, last Saturday evening. Indeed, we were surprised at the warmth of the reception accorded to this picture, because, as we have pointed out over and over again, moving picture audiences, especially of the better kind, seldom indulge in any considerable demonstration of applause. First of all, as to the photography of this picture: It pleased us very much in respect to its excellent technique; then, a purely personal opinion of our own, the blacks were not black; that is to say, they were not cold black, but rather had some perceptible warmth in the shadows. As to the construction of the piece, this was clear even to those unfamiliar with the story. The tragedy was extremely well-acted, with superb dignity and conviction. Indeed, we were agreeably surprised at what we would call the classical atmosphere that seemed to pervade the picture. Now we come to the impersonation of “Elektra.” This is the feature of the film of which we think the most, days after having seen the picture. The lady who impersonated “Elektra” “let herself go” for all she was worth. She was the mad, revengeful, passionate, remorseless woman to the life. Indeed, we have never seen a more effective, a more somber, a more startling piece of acting on the moving picture screen than the Vitagraph “Elektra.” Undoubtedly the picture was a very great success, and we think the company should be commended for their enterprise, alertness and up-to-dateness. It is really remarkable to reflect how rapidly we are advancing in moving picture making. Who would have dreamed two or three years ago that the most extremely exciting opera of recent years would find its silent analogue in the same season? But it is so. The spirit of progress is rife in the moving picture fold as in other branches of the work. One little incident in connection with this film classic, “Elektra,” made us smile when we heard it. It was this: that the music played by the pianist at Keith & Proctor’s could not by any stretch of the imagination be said to be quite suitable for the subject. It certainly was not tragic, it certainly was not classic, and it certainly was not somber. First of all, the pianist played “Sephanie” Gavotte, a favorite of our own; then Franz Von Suppe’s “Poet and Peasant,” also a favorite of ours, and finally a selection from Auber’s “Crown Diamonds,” also a favorite of our own. It is unfortunate, or fortunate as the case may be, that we who write this have a tolerably good memory, and something more than a nodding acquaintance with popular music, and, as we have said, we smiled at the incongruity of a classic picture on the screen being accompanied to music written 2,000 years after the incident depicted was supposed to have taken place, and, moreover, unsuitable for the subject. We are dealing elsewhere this week, as last week, with the subject of music and the picture, and we think this fact is deserving of special mention here. We have no doubt that in time such a progressive firm as Keith & Proctor will do the right thing by the picture in all cases and assure the fact that such an anachronism will not occur again. There must have been many amongst the audience like ourselves who realized that to play modern dance music to a classic film was an incongruity. It is a mistake to suppose that people who attend the moving picture theater are uneducated. We frequently encounter men of the very highest type of mentality, and we are confident that the unsuitability of the music to this picture was noticed by others as well as ourselves. But our special object in writing this article was to applaud the enterprise of the Vitagraph Company for the singularly fine bit of work that they put around the tragic film of “Elektra.” We shall be curious to know how this film fares in the way of popularity among the moving picture theaters. We would be gratified to any of our exhibiting readers if they would let us know what effect it has upon their audiences.
Survival status: (unknown)
Current rights holder: Public domain [USA].
Listing updated: 8 August 2023.
References: Blum-Silent p. 16 : Website-AFI.
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