In The Wind, Lillian Gish — already the most accomplished actress of the American silent era — goes and gives one of the most arresting performances in the history of cinema. She plays Letty Mason, a brave Virginia girl who moves to the windy hell of West Texas to live with her cousin Beverly (Edward Earle) and his family. As adapted elegantly by the great screenwriter Frances Marion from Dorothy Scarborough’s novel, the movie observes Letty’s tendency to cause a stir wherever she goes: on the train to Texas, she befriends the devilish Roddy (Montagu Love), whose bad intentions will eventually bring the story full circle; in the carriage ride to Beverly’s, drivers Lige (Lars Hanson) and Sourdough (William Orlamond) both instantly fall in love with her, and will later compete comically for her hand; at Beverly’s, his wife Cora (Dorothy Cumming) irrationally suspects some kind of affair between the cousins. Amidst all this chaos, Gish’s masterstroke is giving Letty that completely unassuming quality often found in people around whom events mysteriously converge. We all know someone like Letty, don’t we? She doesn’t want any of this and yet it keeps happening; she appears oblivious to whatever hypnotic magic she’s radiating. The Wind dutifully considers both the blessings and the curses of this phenomenon. Though the film doesn’t wield the same devastating power as Sjöström’s earlier Swedish masterpiece The Phantom Carriage (1921), it’s clear that moving to Hollywood didn’t contaminate his talent for symbolic imagery. The titular West Texas wind is frightening and mythical, its constant force echoing Letty’s escalating fear of all these circling men. (Maybe it’s even a metaphor for sexual desire?) Letty eventually finds heaven where she pictured hell, and at every step of the way Gish is in masterful lockstep with the character she’s playing. A very good silent drama elevated by a true genius in front of the camera.
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