A preamble from the filmmakers describing Dante Alighieri's 'Inferno' with reference to "vivid realism" raises a profoundly skeptical eyebrow; whether they intend the easily mocked pretension of "fire and brimstone" preaching or simple dramatic flourishes, the movie proper hasn't even begun and it seems to have aged poorly. Mind you, the concept of the picture is just fine, plainly stirring together the morality tale of Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas carol' with the stark imagery of Dante's vision of Hell. The broad strokes of the plot are quite suitable; Mortimer Judd is even more of a villain than Ebenezer Scrooge, and perhaps more easily compared to the average conservative politician and über-rich businessperson in 2023 than a figure of another eighty years' past. But then, too, while this is hardly the only title to employ such an indelicacy, there's also no mistaking the use of blackface here. This is to say nothing of the broad, unsubtle forthrightness of the story as it presents. Not even a quarter of the runtime has passed and Henry Otto's 'Dante's inferno' shows itself to be uneven in various ways, and that impression won't really change.
Perhaps it's the notion in Cyrus Wood's story, or the subsequent screenplay of Edmund Goulding, to tell a modern tale on top of the portrayal of Alighieri's Hell. Maybe it's the general ethos that guided the production in various manners. Whatever the case may be, it's hard not to draw comparison to Italian classic 'L'inferno,' produced by Milano Films a full thirteen years before this saw the light of day - and hard not to feel like this is a distinctly lesser creation. It's characterized by a brusqueness that shortchanges the weight of the narrative or imagery; instances of cheapness in the visuals that diminish their intended value or impact; a peculiar estrangement between one element of this feature and the other, or even between this "Inferno" and Alighieri's, that subsequently lowers both. So, for example, the artistry we saw in 1911 sometimes seems to have been traded in for empty facades and vague representations more closely resembling the tawdry exploitation flicks that would begin to rear their heads in the 30s. It often seems like the poets aren't so much taking a journey through the abyss as they are jogging through it, and the picture is decidedly lax about any detail in that component of its storytelling. The depiction and description thereof is emphatically simplified and reduced, and made all the poorer for it, sometimes almost laughably so. The active framing half isn't much better, coming off as heavy-handed in its ideas, and a little weak in its communication of those ideas, and in tying them together; the climax is mostly well done, though some moments thereof more so than others. The editing is overly curt, and Otto's direction overzealous; with the latter aspect in mind, the cast sometimes appear to be wildly overacting, even by the standards of an era in which exaggerated facial expressions and body language were not uncommon.
I'll at least say this much, those behind the scenes mostly turned in good work. Though the editing is often given to excessive swiftness, those performing the work at least demonstrate swell capability. More substantively, the sets are pretty fantastic, above all the imaginative and laborious efforts that are the locales of Dante and Virgil's sojourn. The costume design is rather terrific, and any effects that are employed tend to look really great. If there's anything about 'Dante's inferno' that's outwardly commendable, it's the work of the crew. With that said, strangely, in all these facets I rather feel that this 1924 movie is inferior to the painstaking endeavor of 1911. Surely that's a question of the ends to which the carpenters, painters, costumers, and effects artists were guided, rather than any reflection of their skills, but still the disparity is noteworthy. It's the difference between a carefully conjured, whimsical panoply of imagery both fantastic and earnestly gnarly, versus an exhibition more closely resembling that of a well-financed theater troupe. To add insult to injury, the lighting in some sequences is kind of poor, restricting what we can actually see of this or that.
None of this is to say that this feature is outright bad, because that's not true. But it has difficulty striking a balance between its 'Carol' and its 'Inferno,' and difficulty in making either count and be truly felt by we viewers; both feel insufficient in turn. What I think it comes down to is that in every regard this would have benefited significantly from a more mindful, tactful approach. Not to again draw on a comparison, but the Italian 'L'inferno' was accordingly in production for over three years before its release. I don't know how long it took for this American picture to get made, but it feels in no small part as though it was rushed - developed quickly and incompletely. The big ideas are there, but not the rounding details that would make them matter, nor the fastidious craftsmanship that would help the imagery or storytelling to really make a mark. Thus, while it seems splendid from the outside, once we sit to watch and actively track what it's doing and how it's constructed, the viewing experience becomes less than fully satisfying. I still think 'Dante's inferno' is reasonably worthwhile, but it's nothing remarkable, and nothing for which one needs to go out of their way. There are plenty of other films that should be a higher priority for any viewer, and one of them is thirteen years older. Still, if you have the chance to watch and appreciate the silent era, it's a decent enough way to spend one's time.
