Excerpts: 1

October 19, 2001
In print: At the Movies with Carl Sandburg

For his encyclopedic book Hollywood on Lake Michigan: 100 years of Chicago and the Movies (1998), Arnie Bernstein tracked down almost 700 films made in Chicago. His new book is an excavation of another sort: in the archives at the Chicago Historical Society, the Harold Washington Library Center, the library of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and the Carl Sandburg Historical Site in Galesburg, Bernstein sifted through some 3,000 movie reviews and related essays penned by Illinois poet Carl Sandburg for the Chicago Daily News in the 1920s.

Born in Galesburg, Sandburg moved to Chicago in 1913 and four years later hired on at the Daily News, where he wrote features and editorials and covered the infamous 1919 race riots. In 1920 he began to write film reviews—still an emerging form—and by 1928 he'd stopped. He was earning enough income from his popular biography of Abraham Lincoln to devote all his time to literature.

"Sandburg was the first daily critic, at least in Chicago, who took the movies dead seriously," says Bernstein. "In his reviews there's a sense of wonder—and a demand that the audience not be insulted." Already a highly regarded poet, Sandburg brought to his criticism the same cadenced, down-to-earth language, and he taunted aesthetes with his conviction that film could not only popular culture but high art. "The cold, real, upstanding fact holds—the movies are," he declared in December 1926. As early as 1922 he was raising alarms about film preservation, writing, "How can photoplays of today be preserved for future generations? Will school pupils in 6922, or even 1000 years from now, be able to study early examples of the cinema art as pupils of 1922 study Virgil and Homer?"

Lovers of Sandburg's poems will find in his movies reviews the same eye for the human physique. "One might almost go back and see Manhandled a second time," he wrote of the 1924 comedy, "because of the knack and skill, the refined grace with which Gloria Swanson removes her shoes." In 1921 he interviewed Charlie Chaplin as the international star was preparing for his bath: "The naked, sinewy, frank, unaffected Charlie Chaplin paused for a short interchange of thought." Chaplin, he wrote, was "clean physically and has a body that he can make obedient to many kinds of service." In a laundry review of Josef von Sternburg's gangster saga Underworld (1927), Sandburg praised George Bancroft's Capone-like gang boss as "a magnificent animal, many animals all in one, leonine, tigerish, rogue-elephantine, but animals with the sublime gift of being able to grin."

Bernstein detects in Sandburg's criticism a hint of auteurism at a time when many reviewers sounded like starstruck fans. "In all pictures the big main star is the director," Sandburg notes in 1924. In his equivocal review of Sherlock, Jr. that same year, Sandburg reports that Buster Keaton and company toss in “odd scraps of experimentation,” though they had "no idea what the public wanted; they put these spots in just to be artists." His rave of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) describes the German expressionist masterpiece as a "creepy, dank, dismal, amazing, terrible and wonderful motion picture," adding, "Here is one Shakespeare would enjoy coming back to have a look at." In the present age of regular-guy reviews and invented blurbs, Sandburg's criticism deserves its own second look.

Bill Stamets
Chicago Reader


Excerpts: 2

July 17, 2001

The Movies Are puts into words the experience I've been trying to recapture for my audiences at the LaSalle Theatre Revival House. Editor Arnie Bernstein has put together a collection of passionate reviews by Carl Sandburg that truly verbalize the beauty of the silent cinema. We know of Sandburg the poet and historian, but his role as "the cinema expert" for the Daily News in the 1920s has been overlooked—until now. He was as American as Mark Twain and Walt Whitman, an original whose name belongs in the same pantheon of American film critics alongside such influence writers as Vachel Lindsay, Otis Ferguson, and James Agee.

Carl Sandburg loved the movies and took the old photoplays seriously, and he saw them as an art form. By art we don't mean some pretentious, archaic definition of the term, but instead we refer to a level of excellence, effort and beauty not to be found in a packaged product, whether it be the pantomimes of the Little Tramp or the visual design of F.W. Murnau's Faust—a film he thought "should be in the library of every art school and museum of America." But no elitist was Sandburg, as we know. Even B Western stars were capable of art in their own way—Tom Mix style. Of course, there were the movies that were strictly entertainment, and yet, who but Sandburg would give equal time to Rin-Tin-Tin?

He foresaw the auteur theory in an interview with Josef von Sternburg, and in a piece titled "The Age Limit of a Film," was already wondering about what we now call film preservation. This early stage of cinema was also one of experimentation with sound, color, even 3-D. Through his reviews we chart the fads and progress of 1920s' cinema. One may take exception to some of Sandburg's stances—how many times does he bash Cecil B. DeMille?—but one nevertheless comes away respecting his viewpoint. And by the time 1928 rolls along, however, a true appreciation for the era has developed within the reader. Arnie Bernstein's introductions to many of the reviews, meanwhile, help bring context for those unfamiliar with the more obscure titles. As a film programmer, I myself came away even more excited about these films, many of which have been unjustly neglected today. But with collections like The Movies Are to rekindle the memory in the old and pique interest in the young, those half-forgotten shadows on the silversheet will never fade out completely.

Matthew C. Hoffman, Director
LaSalle Theatre

 

Excerpts: 3

February 12, 2001
Sandburg the critic: Book based on the poet's years as a film critic

It's easier to associate the poet Carl Sandburg with "city of the big shoulders, hog butcher to the world" than to the movies, which were in their infancy when Sandburg was the Roger Ebert of his day.

Yet the famous Lincoln biographer and poet really was a film critic for the old Chicago Daily News. His columns comprise author Arnie Bernstein's second book about the historical Chicago film scene, The Movies Are: Carl Sandburg's Film Reviews and Essays, 1920-1928.

By combining Sandburg's interviews with movie legends of his era, such as Charlie Chaplin, and reviews of classic and 'lost' films, the book provides an entertaining window into a side of Sandburg's work and life that is largely forgotten.

"Sandburg had published 'Chicago Poems' by that point and had a reputation as a poet, but his life's bread-and-butter was as a journalist," says Bernstein.

"Film was a new medium so there weren't many critics around yet. To give someone a regular column at that point was a pretty progressive move for that time."

Bernstein researched his subject by reading Daily News microfilms maintained at the Harold Washington Library. He interviewed numerous scholars and studied Sandburg's writing collections at the University of Illinois to provide an historical context for the columns selected for the book. He had to pare down 3,000 essays to Sandburg's best columns to fit within 300 pages.

One particularly interesting nugget in The Movies Are involves Sandburg's literary connection to Abraham Lincoln. The columnist used his Daily News salary to finance the writing of the first volume of his Lincoln biography, "The Prairie Years." When the book became a success, he quickly left the newspaper behind.

"On occasion, Sandburg even used his film column to pull his thoughts on Lincoln together," says Bernstein. "He also found other ways to use his interviews, such as the one he did with Chaplin, that became a source for a poem on Chaplin, called 'Without Cane and Derby.' "

Bernstein discovered Sandburg's film reviews while researching material for his previous book, Hollywood on Lake Michigan, a 1999 American Regional History Publishing Award-winner.

He wove the history of Chicago filmmaking with intriguing profiles, anecdotes and trivia surrounding the productions that enriched the city over the past century. . . .

Carl Kozlowski
Screen - The Chicago Production Weekly

 

Excerpts: 4

January 21, 2001
Beverly author uncovers Sandburg's silver screen gems

There is a gem of a book called "The Movies Are," written and edited with historical commentary by Beverly resident Arnie Bernstein that provides insights into a little known aspect of the literary career of Carl Sandburg.

The book is a collection of the silent movie reviews and essays written by Carl Sandburg for the Chicago Daily News from 1920-1928.

"Sandburg wrote more than 2,000 film related columns for the Chicago Daily News during the 20s," said Bernstein. "60 to 90 percent of those films no longer exist, so his reviews are the only historical record we have of such great films as the 'Queen of Sheba' and the Lon Chaney 'London After Midnight' two part series."

Sandburg is internationally recognized, but Chicago-area residents are especially aware of their connection to this great American writer and his connections to our favorite city.

In a long and distinguished career, Sandburg collected two Pulitzer prizes: one in 1940 for his biography on Abraham Lincoln; the other in 1951 for his "complete poems" that included his 1916 collection of "Chicago Poems."

Most Chicago-area residents are also aware of the long and distinguished career of the Daily News, a six day publication (no Sunday edition) founded in 1875. It became an honored Chicago institution that included such writers as Ben Hecht and Meyer Levine among its contributors until it folded in 1978.

But few people were aware of Sandburg's stint as a movie reviewer for the Daily News until Bernstein came across those writings while doing research for his first book, Hollywood on Lake Michigan: 100 Years of Chicago and the Movies, a book that received the 2000 American Regional Award for the Midwest division.

Bernstein recognized the value of Sandburg's reviews as an historical legacy and decided his next book would be "The Movies Are."

"It took over a year to go through the microfilms of libraries such as the U. of I. at Champaign, and many copies were difficult to read," said the author. "There was so much material I had to cut two to three thousand pieces."

Bernstein credits an assignment by his third-grade teacher, the late Suzanne Tanny, for an early fascination with this American author who became a legendary poet of his people, a writer of children's stories, a Lincoln biographer extraordinaire, a collector of American folk songs, and a silent film reviewer.

"It was a natural," he said, "to get back to my interest in Sandburg when I came across those pieces. I became fascinated with his style, often running sentences because he was always on the short deadline. He wrote them on weekends and during the week writing his poetry and literary pieces.

"Some of the films and the film stars he met, like Charlie Chaplin, were inspirations for his poetry," he said. "He was concerned about the content of the film and wrote about the audience reaction. He stayed away from the scandals that raged around such stars as Gloria Swanson and Norma Desmond."

Bernstein arrived in Beverly via growing up in the "north burbs" (as he put it) and a film study and theater degree from Southern Illinois University where he met Beverly-bred Cheryl Diddia. After the wedding bells they returned to Cheryl's home territory to settle in.

Bernstein also has a graduate degree in creative writing from Columbia College and is planning a new book on Chicago's connection to the Civil War.

Kathleen Tobin
The Beverly Review

 

Excerpts: 5

January/February 2001

At the dawn of cinematic history, the so called cultivated person held movies in contempt. Carl Sandburg understood early on, however, the film was here to stay. In an essay dated December 18, 1926, Sandburg wrote:

"The cold real upstanding fact holds—the movies are. They come so close to pre-empting some functions hitherto held exclusively by the school and university systems that the philosopher of civilization who doesn't take them into consideration with the broad, sympathetic measurement is in danger of being in place of the drum major of the band who marched up a side street while the band went straight along on the main stem—without leadership."

Sandburg astutely recognized that film was emerging as a major art form.

For some eight years, he was the film critic for the Chicago Daily News. From that perch, Sandburg covered every aspect of the medium films themselves to the technical innovations, political and censorship issues, audience reactions, and interviews with filmmakers. Comedies like The General and Gold Rush to actors such as William S. Hart, Fatty Arbuckle, sex symbols Clara Bow and Rudolph Valentino and directors like D.W. Griffith and Josef Von Sternberg were gathered under Sandburg's watchful eye.

Sandburg was, of course, a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, and his six volume biography of Abraham Lincoln is a legend. But few know that first he was a movie critic.

Arnie Bernstein, a film historian, does a fine job resurrecting Sandburg's voice. The Movies Are is a nice way to relive one of Hollywood’s most creative decades — before sound was the standard and pictures really told the story. Fascinating reading.

Milton Heap
Gadfly

 

Excerpts: 6

November 10, 2000
On Film: Poet Knew Movies Shape Thinking

"You will see that this little clicking contraption with the revolving handle will make a revolution in our life — in the life of writers. It is a direct attack on the old methods of literary art. We will have to adapt ourselves to the shadowy screen and the cold machine. A new form of writing will be necessary."
—Leo Tolstoy

Not everyone was as prescient as Tolstoy. At first, spectacle was enough. The novelty of motion pictures, the miracle of the captured, repeatable image was all that was necessary. The first movies featured such seemingly banal subjects as workers leaving factories, trains pulling into stations, well-known stage performers kissing. It wasn't a small leap from presenting small slices of life to filming plays and imagining original stories for the screen.

Yet, by 1920, the language of cinema had pretty much been established. Audiences were familiar with close-ups and establishing shots and they were not confused by editing techniques. And though the movies were primarily regarded as a form of light entertainment, the possibilities of the form were becoming apparent.

Before Carl Sandburg won his Pulitzer Prizes—one for poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln—he was a reporter for the Chicago Daily News. He had joined the newspaper in 1917, after a stint in the Army and various more-or-less odd jobs. (He had also already published a collection of poetry.)

At first Sandburg reported on labor issues, and in 1918 he briefly left the newspaper to serve as war correspondent for a wire service. He re-joined the Daily News after the Armistice and made a name for himself with his reporting on the South Side race riots in 1919.

In 1920, Sandburg's career took an interesting circumvolution when he was named staff film critic. At the time most newspapers paid little attention to the content of the movies, and "legitimate" stage actors took pains to distinguish themselves from mere movie players.

So, as it happens, Carl Sandburg was one of America's first movie critics. From 1920 to 1928, a period that neatly coincides with the golden age of silent film, he wrote literally hundreds of reviews, columns and movie-related interview pieces for the Daily News. Sandburg touched on issues of censorship and politics, reported technical innovations and discussed the art of pie throwing. He far preferred the films of William de Mille to those of the director’s brother Cecil, and he considered Charlie Chaplin a great genius while faintly praising Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd as talented clowns.

We can thank Chicago film historian Arnie Bernstein for rescuing Sandburg's film writings from microfilm by collecting them in "The Movies Are": Carl Sandburg's Film Reviews and Essays (Lake Claremont Press, $17.95).

Sandburg, it turns out, was a workman-like film reviewer who wastes little time arguing for the importance of the form—most of the time he simply describes the movie, and compares it to other films. He does not seem particularly impressed with the art of motion pictures; he is aware most moviegoers aren't terribly interested in the importance of a given film, they simply want to know whether they ought to consider seeing it.

Yet Sandburg also understood that movies were a powerful tool that, on some level, were worth the consideration of serious people.

"Culturally speaking, there are arguments to be made that Hollywood—for real or woe—is more important that Harvard, Yale or Princeton, singly and collectively," he wrote.

And, in the title essay, originally published on Dec. 18, 1926, he offered these observations:

"The cold, real. upstanding fact holds—the movies are. They come so close to pre-empting some functions hitherto held exclusively by the school and the university systems that the philosopher of civilization who doesn't take them into consideration with broad, sympathetic measurement is in danger of being in the place of the drum major of the band who marched up a side street while the band went straight along on the main stem—without leadership."

But Bernstein's scholarship is perhaps most valuable in that Sandburg's collected movie prose provides us with a fascinating catalogue of silent movie titles, most of them unfamiliar to modern audiences, some—such as Lon Chaney's 1928 film London After Midnight—entirely lost. Sandburg's criticism is not unlike his poetry—it is muscular and plain-spoken and occasionally just a bit clumsy.

He never fails to makes his points succinctly, with admirable confidence. One hears echoes of Sandburg's unfussy, piquant style in the reviews of Roger Ebert (who supplies an introduction for the book), though Ebert himself writes he was unfamiliar with most of Sandburg's movie reviews and was surprised to learn that the poet was more than an occasional critic. While it might be far-fetched to suggest that Sandburg might have been the originator of a kind of Chicago style of movie reviewing, the populist resonances are.

Philip K. Martin, Columnist/Film Critic/Features Editor
Arkansas Democrat-Gazette