As we saw time and gain with American films from the same period, especially when presenting a depiction of a distant time or place, there's one thing that's indisputably true about this from the very start: it is truly gorgeous. Kudos to everyone who created the elaborate sets and backgrounds, the immensely detailed costumes, and the lovely hair and makeup, for 'Le Lion des Mogols' is nothing if not a feast for the eyes. Were producer Alexandre Kamenka, filmmaker Jean Epstein, or star and story contributor Ivan Mozzhukhin so inclined, they could have easily fudged the details and took it down the path of high fantasy set in fictional lands, for the picture is just that rich and flavorful in its visual presentation. Of course, the other side of that coin is that, as we saw time and again with American films from the same period, presenting a depiction of a distant place, how this French production treats "Tibet" is a little questionable in various ways. While I leave it to those with specific, learned knowledge, or Tibetan heritage, to more heavily assess the portrayal of the land and its people, any average viewer can definitely look at this and pick out suspect bits and pieces. However, in fairness, I think one has to take cinema with a grain of salt to begin with, not least its earliest years, and I don't think anyone could possibly approach this without recognition that distinct liberties are taken. There are indelicacies, but I'm not of the mind that any of them are so nearly severe as to dampen the experience.
With all this out of the way, the outstanding and the, uh, possibly less so, we can look to the substance of the feature. Simply put, by and large I think this is splendidly well done, and highly enjoyable. Him and haw about the particulars as one reasonably might, the story is compelling: a prince, forced into exile, tries to navigate a new life in Europe, and especially the people and culture he is unfamiliar with. I'm not inclined to believe anything here is altogether revelatory, but the plot is swell, the scene writing is strong, and the intertitles are penned with smart and often flowery language. Not all his works were necessarily equal, yet I've seen a few of Epstein's silent pictures and loved each; I would expect nothing less than excellence from him, and he certainly delivers here once again. That includes careful direction, orchestration of shots and scenes, characterized by refined skill and intelligence, and sharp editing that in its own way also serves to build the drama as the tale unfolds. With clever, judicious use of close-ups in addition to some grander sweeping sights, the cinematography is just as terrific in capturing every moment, even crafting a sense of tension in so doing. And with all this said, just in case the quality alone weren't enough, in every regard there's plentiful variety across the board to keep the saga feeling fresh and lively.
Take into account gratifyingly nuanced acting from Mozzhukhin, Nathalie Lissenko, and Camille Bardou, among others, and 'Le Lion des Mogols' shows even more of its value. It's no secret that much of the silent era was marked by performances of exaggerated expressions and body language to compensate for lack of sound, but over time a more subtle and natural comportment took over heading toward the advent of talkies. I'm so pleased that this 1924 title counts among the latter. Those stunts and effects that are employed look great; the tinting applied in select ways to connote the setting lends further to the joy of our viewership - and, really, all around this is just wonderful, an underappreciated gem. Why, when all is said and done, the notes of "Western cinema exploring another culture" that first greeted us in the earliest scenes are all but forgotten as the beating heart of the movie increasingly reveals itself. This actually shares much more in common with Epstein's other French-focused dramas, often centered on specific characters' troubles - 'La belle Nivernaise,' for example, and even more so 'Coeur fidèle' - than it does with adventure-laden contemporary fare like the works of, say, Rudolph Valentino; in small dollops there are arguably even tinges of psychological drama. This is still not to say that the film is perfect by any means, for it's marginally uneven in some small measure, and some ideas herein are well within the norms and conventions of the silent era. Yet the fact remains that far more so than not, ultimately this is rather superb.
Admirable as it is, and shaped with all the dexterity, strength, and wit that Epstein and his fellows could muster, there perhaps isn't any singular stroke of brilliance here. I don't think this to be anything that will change the minds of those who have a hard time engaging with older features. And still - still! - scrutinze as one might, I don't know that I could even say there are any discrete flaws in this. If anything, it's just that some facets are less remarkable, or a hair short of "absolutely beyond reproach," including a feeling that emerges within the last ten to fifteen minutes that the screenplay could have been tightened a smidgen without meaningfully losing anything. If 'Le Lion des Mogols' is any less striking or impeccable than some of Epstein's other efforts, however, it's only by a matter of degrees, and the vitality that this boasts very much speaks for itself; stopping short of "exemplary" is a trifle when the end result is as absorbing, entertaining, satisfying, and altogether stellar as this is. On every account, this is a tremendous classic that mostly holds up marvelously well one hundred years later, honestly even better than I had hoped. For those who appreciate what the silent era offers, this is well worth checking out if one has the opportunity.
