If you ask me there is nothing in the world more precious than cats, but a close second is the preservation of culture, including silent films of any variety. Alongside other early masters like Georges Méliès and D. W. Griffith, Yevgeni Bauer developed film-making techniques that helped to shape cinema all the way through to modern extravaganzas like Damien Chazelle's 'Babylon,' or the Daniels' 'Everything everywhere all at once.' His pictures of now over 100 years ago are simple by today's standards, yet the new medium offered another art form to explore and new storytelling possibilities - such as 'Silent witnesses,' touching upon the dynamics between upper class masters and their common servants and staff in tsarist Russia of the early twentieth century. The picture is a time capsule and an examination of society as much as it is entertainment, and despite stark differences owing to how movies have changed over the years, it is as equally deserving now as it was so long ago.
Camera placement, and the precise manner in which a shot or scene is orchestrated, can be as important and informative as the action or dialogue that fills it. This is as true of paintings as it is of theater, and Bauer demonstrates most keenly that he understood how it also applies to cinema. Contrast between light and shadow, background and foreground, movement of actors around each other or objects in the scene - all this and more feeds into the nuance of developing a narrative, no less so than the facial expressions and body language of the skilled actors whose visages greet us. At so early a time in the film industry performances tended to be characterized by especially grandiose comportment, following from practices on the stage and in compensation for the lack of sound, but still I think the cast shows strong acting ability that in some capacity is more subtle and natural, and therefore somewhat advanced for a 1914 feature. Add to this the (relatively) modest but fetching sets, and note the comparative paucity of intertitles to provide exposition or dialogue, and it's readily evident just how essential firm, steady direction was to bringing the movie together. Bauer is more than up to the task, however, with shrewd mindfulness for both film-making craft and storytelling prudence.
It's perhaps worth observing that as the construction here is so far removed from what modern viewers may be familiar with, those who have difficulties engaging with the silent era won't find anything here to change their mind. It is those who are already enamored with the timeframe who will get the most out of 'Silent witnesses,' and more than that, perhaps those ardent cinephiles who can admire the craftsmanship as much as the tale. This is especially true since I think this might be an instance in which the former distinctly supersedes the latter: by all means there is a definite story here, and it's a worthy one, yet I'm unsure if the picture is as successful in communicating that story as it is in illustrating the fundamental skill set of all who contributed to it. Intertitles following the opening credits introduce a small handful of specific characters and their actors, but not each and every one; for relative lack of intertitles throughout to elucidate the plot, we are left with images alone to discern the course of events. Thus, the broad strokes of the screenplay written by Aleksandr Voznesenskii are suitably conveyed, but detail is lost as it's not always totally clear who a character is, or their place in the plot, or what is specifically happening from moment to moment.
I don't know if Voznesenskii was also in charge of the intertitles here, or if Bauer was, or someone else; echoing the marked (relative) simplicity of a 1914 film production, the credits are sparing, with minimal illumination of who was involved. Whatever the case may be, I think all that 'Silent witnesses' needed to be able to stand taller was - of all things - more intertitles. Even just a handful more, cementing the nature of the goings-on in a scene, would have been beneficial to the whole. With that said, though, it's certainly to the credit of Voznesenskii's writing, Bauer's direction, and the acting of the cast that, such as it is, such an extraordinary abundance of narrative, and subtlety, is brought out by the strength of their contributions alone. Full fidelity may be lost in the process, but it speaks volumes to the capabilities of all involved that so much story is told just through the scenes as they are written, sans sound, dialogue, or exposition; the meticulous arrangement of every shot, making full use of every element to present before the camera; and the smart, tactful performances of a cast who had to pour everything of themselves and their roles into only the visual aspect thereof.
The use of editing techniques, tricks of the camera, or shot angles or otherwise composition that are unquestionably ahead of their time only further accentuates that the day to day construction of the movie received more attention than a narrative in which it's not always entirely clear even where a scene is set. Still, despite noteworthy deficiencies in rolling out its plot, the fact remains that this title continues to hold up astoundingly well several decades later. Some major modern productions, benefitting from astronomical budgets and all the best technology the industry has to offer, fail to be as engrossing, enjoyable, or well made as this is. Maybe that says more about Yevgeni Bauser and 'Silent witnesses' than anything else could. Yes, the end result is imperfect in very particular ways, but for everything that is done well here, it remains an exquisite, vital fragment of cultural history, and one well worth remembering and preserving. Mark this as something to leave for silent film fans, but for those who appreciate even the earliest days of film-making, faults and all this is well worth checking out.
