Reviews of silent film releases on home video. Copyright © 1999-2024 by Carl Bennett and the Silent Era Company. All Rights Reserved.

Michael (1924)

This Carl Theodor Dreyer drama stars Walter Slezak as Michael and Benjamin Christensen as The Master, with support from Nora Gregor, Grete Mosheim, Dider Aslan, Robert Garrison and Max Auzinger.

Claude Zoret (Christensen) is an established artist whose paintings are inspired by his male model Michael (Slezak). Michael was originally an artist himself and had approached the master who rejected his uninspired work. Michael has since accepted his role as muse for he is now a kept man, with access to the finest things, but his attentions are soon set on the Countess Zamikow (Gregor) who has engaged Zoret to paint her portrait.

Michael’s poutish resentment of the attention given by Zoret to the Countress soon turns to obsession as his own attention becomes fixed on her. The master painter laments his inability to capture the Countess’ eyes in the portrait and encourages Michael to concentrate on them. In his intense focus upon her, Michael retouches the eyes in a few strokes and captures them to the master’s satisfaction. Quite unintentionally, Zoret has set in motion an inevitable affair between the immature Michael and the Countess for they have peered deep into each other’s eyes and find an intense connection.

We are introduced to the tragic affair of Alice Adelsskjold (Mosheim) and the Duke de Monthieu (Aslan), she a married woman and he a man hopelessly in love with her. Both of them friends of the master, their love is being played out in shadowy secret.

Meanwhile, Michael has been redirecting some of Zoret’s possessions to his own apartment and borrowing large sums of money to pay for his entertainments with the Countess. Uncertainty infecting his life, Zoret is not only coping with Michael’s irresponsible finances and his diminishing attentions, the master is struggling with his art. A critic writes that his portrait of the Countess lacks the expression of truth in its technique except for the eyes, which may have been rendered by another hand. Journalist Charles Switt (Garrison), loyal friend of the master, is suspect of Michael’s intentions and of those of the Countess.

Alice’s husband Adelsskjold (Alexander Murski) suspects that his wife is cuckolding him; Zoret also suspects Michael as he has just learned that Michael has surreptitiously put one of the master’s paintings (given to him as a gift) up for sale and absconded a set of expensive English glasses. Confronted with the exposure of his thefts (and a veiled implication of infidelity), Michael lashes out demanding he be left to live his own life, rejecting the life being imposed upon him by Zoret. Gallantly, the master releases the one he loves most.

Tragically, a duel ensues between Adelsskjold and his wife’s lover, and Michael attempts to ingratiate himself into Zoret’s favor long enough to steal valuable sketches to sell them. Zoret must finally face the truth of his relationship with Michael.

Dreyer’s psychological drama examines themes of love, longing and loneliness, and the artistic impulse in the parallel storylines represented in the relationships of the main characters: those of Alice and the Duke, Zamikow and Michael, and Zoret and Michael. Through the unfolding of the story, love is won and love is lost.

While the sad undercurrent of unrequited homosexual love is present in the film, we find that it is only a deeply motivating element in Zoret’s character. Tragically lonely within his controlled façade, Zoret openly demonstrates his tolerance and affection for Michael in his gifts and willingness to facilitate the young man’s extravagant lifestyle. Michael has been content to take advantage of his priveleged position, while Zoret secretly longs for him and (preoccupied with death) to secure a familial successor.

Critic Casper Tyberg has made the point that Michael breaks new cinematic ground by moving away from storytelling via the wide shot tableaux, as was prevalent in the earliest decades of the 20th century, to the use of close-ups to convey the inner flow of emotions and longing of the characters. Dreyer’s choice of shots and the pacing of editing matched to the pace of the actors’ performances is expertly controlled to promote a full conveyance of the ghostly emotions playing over their faces to the viewing audience.

Benjamin Christensen is perfectly cast as the intimidating master painter Zoret. His withering gazes alternately evoke fear and pain in wonderful, rich turns. As Zoret is the central character of the film (not Michael), Christensen firmly anchors an accomplished cast who orbit about his performance. His gravity attracts the dramatic turmoil to him where it is tragicially expressed in the denouement. Walter Slezak as Michael is an impressive actor for his youth but may be unrecognizable to those who know him best from his later sound film appearances. Not only is he much younger here, he is also much thinner than the portly Slezak of his later years.

The film was presumed lost for decades but was rediscovered in 1958 in an East German archive. Not usually apparent in first viewings, the film reveals several layers of rich meaning and impressive cinematic technique in multiple viewings.

— Carl Bennett