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

The Spanish Dancer (1923)

This Paramount historical drama, directed by Herbert Brenon, stars Pola Negri and Antonio Moreno, with Wallace Beery, Kathlyn Williams, Gareth Hughes and Adolphe Menjou.

Based on a 19th century play set in the 17th century, The Spanish Dancer is part love story and part political intrigue with a spare sprinkling of royal sexual infidelity. Gypsy dancer and fortune teller Maritana (Negri) and profligate Don César de Bazan (Moreno) fall in love at first sight at a party thrown for his (supposed) friends. The very next morning, due to his reckless mounting debt, Bazan is stripped of his property by creditors.

Political tensions between Spain and France press the need for a formal treaty between the countries. Spanish King Philip IV (Beery) is on the fence as to his acceptance of the treaty and his French-born Queen Isobel (Williams) is in legion with Cardinal Richelieu (Charles Stevenson) to get the treaty signed. Political opportunists Don Salluste (Menjou) and Olivarez (Henry Vogel) are plotting to subvert the treaty while destroying the Spanish monarchy. Hisses are appropriate here.

Bazan has avoided capture and meets with Maritana and young apprentice Lazarillo (Hughes) during a huge festival in Madrid, where they are all chased (for different reasons) by separate pursuers. Bazan comes to the aid of Maritana and Lazarillo only to end up in jail for killing a man on festival day.

Maritana had previously earned a debt of gratitude from Queen Isobel and now seeks to collect on a favor to free Bazan and Lazarillo. Meanwhile, under the influence of Don Salluste, King Philip intends to have Maritana as a mistress and conspires to raise her to the title of countess while ensuring the death of Bazan. More hisses here.

Gathering surrepticiously one evening at the king’s hunting lodge (read: big-ass country castle), the whole gang of King Philip, Queen Isobel, Richelieu, Maritana, Bazan and Salluste sort out misunderstandings through a little white lie and the exposure of the treacherous plot. Hurrahs here.

As would be expected, Negri and Moreno stand out in a very-capable cast of Paramount players. Beery is smarmy and almost comic in his anachronistic wig sitting above his dockworker mug. Coniving villain Menjou is somehow as charming as ever. Brenon’s direction is undistinguished but passable. The cinematography by 24-year-old James Wong Howe is at times stunning. The costume design by Howard Greer is spectacular and noteworthy. That said, Moreno’s sword duel with the captain of the guard at the Madrid festival presents a bewildering editorial choice as the end of the swordplay is shown in long shot rather in a closer shot. The long shot requires the audience to visually pick out Moreno and his opponent from the hundreds of swarming extras that ring their duel to understand that the captain has ultimately been killed.

That this film is a major studio production is evident in the expansive sets (constructed on the Goldwyn Culver City lot), the impressive rock-solid glass process shots, and the use of 2500 costumed extras for the Madrid festival sequence. Viewing this footage, one might think they have dimensionally slipped into another theater to watch a Cecil B. DeMille production.

It should be noted that the play on which the film was based was also simultaneously produced in a competing version, Ernst Lubitsch’s Rosita (1923) starring Mary Pickford, distributed in general release only days before this version. The irony is that Negri and her favorite director were working on the same source material in separate productions.

For years, The Spanish Dancer was only available for viewing in incomplete prints. In 2012, EYE Film Instituut Nederland completed a digital restoration of the film that utilized four incomplete prints: a 35mm color-tinted Dutch-language version held by EYE, a 35mm Russian-language version presumably held by the Cinémathèque Royale in Belgium, a 16mm English-language version held by Photoplay Productions, and a 16mm print held by Lobster Films. Some of the source material was in active decomposition. Following a copy of the original shooting contunity, EYE reconstructed the film to approximately 95 percent of its original release length.

— Carl Bennett