Sunrise won the first and only Academy Award for Best Unique and Artistic Production of 1927-1928. There were, in a sense, two Best Picture awards that first year, the other being Best Production (and going to Wings). After the first prizes were given out, this category won by Sunrise disappeared, and the Academy sort of decided in retrospect that "Best Production" was the same as "Best Picture." In doing so, the Academy has diminished in some ways, I think, the achievement of this film, one of the most remarkable accomplishments of the silent era.
The story begins during the summer, vacation time, with the arrival in a small village of a woman from the city (played by Margaret Livingston). Actually, she’s referred to as the Woman from the City, capitalization being very important to this story. Before long, she has managed to charm a local farmer (The Man, played by George O'Brien) and convince him to kill his wife so that the two of them can leave for the city together. The Wife (played beautifully by Janet Gaynor, one of the key reasons to watch the film) begins to realize the plot against her, managing to avoid her husband from killing her while they are rowing to the city for a day's vacation. After several failed attempts by the husband to make amends for his cruel behavior and dangerous intentions, they begin to reconnect with each other, falling in love all over again during a series of comic adventures in the city.
The characters in the film do not have names. They are referred to almost as types: The Man, The Wife, The Woman from the City, etc., but do forgive me if I don’t get the capitalization right each and every time in this review. It’s a bit too much. There is certainly an "Everyman" quality to this film. You can believe that this is a story that has happened many times before. Certainly, some of the specific details, like the location or people's professions, might be different, but overall, the emotions expressed here are universal. They also have some common traits associated with their types or stereotypes. The Woman from the City is sexy and dangerous with her stylish hair and her fashionable clothing. She flirts shamelessly with the man, who leaves his wife while she’s making dinner for him. Gaynor’s wife is dutiful and trusting, a model in some ways of what the expectations for women were at the time.
A couple of flashbacks reveal some happier times for the husband and wife. We see how much joy the birth of their baby brought them. There’s no rationale given in the plot for his cheating, though. Is he bored? Did the birth of their child change his attitude toward his wife? Are men (Men) just prone to looking for new women? There’s a little bit of complexity to O’Brien’s character, however. He doesn’t immediately agree to the suggestion that he drown his wife and save himself from drowning by using a large bundle of bulrushes, all ideas suggested by The Woman. In fact, he reacts quite violently at first to the idea, but the woman uses sex to get her way. Again, you could make something of that characterization of men and women if you wish since the film clearly wants them to be considered archetypal in nature. The subtitle even supports this: "A Song of Two Humans."
Gaynor is the primary focus for much of the film. She plays a simple woman, someone who doesn’t quite understand why her husband may no longer care for her. She instinctively runs from him after his failed attempts to kill her in the boat on the way to the city. You watch her emotions change gradually as they spend time together in the city. Their afternoon turns out to be quite playful and fun. They get a picture of the two of them kissing. A carnival pig escapes and gets drunk while trying to escape from The Man. They dance a peasant dance to please a crowd of people. She even becomes a little flirtatious with him. The sequence in the city is quite charming, really.
The irony of the plot is that their boat capsizes in a terrible quick storm on their voyage home. They’re reunited and happy, but now in greater danger. He ties the bulrushes to his wife’s back so that she may float, using what was going to be his own means of escape from attempted murder to save her instead. He makes it ashore, and The Woman from the City shows up almost immediately, thinking her plan has worked and that she and The Man can be together. However, he’s in love with his wife and is desperate, quite frantic, to find her. He chokes the woman in much the way he attempted to choke his wife earlier in the film. It’s a nice circular moment for the story.
This film was directed by F.W. Murnau, the great German director of Nosferatu. He brings a clear sense of German Expressionism to this American film, particularly in the scenes of the city. Look at the angles of buildings and streets; you'll detect the connection to the German films of this era. And he also has the benefit of some of the most exquisite shots ever put on film, thanks to the cinematography of Charles Rosher (who also did brilliant work on The Yearling) and Karl Struss. This is really one of the most beautiful movies of the silent era (and almost all of it was filmed at Big Bear Lake, which has never looked as pristine and sparkling as it does here), and it was a worthy recipient that first year of the Oscar for Best Cinematography.
The film features some lovely juxtapositions of images, such as when the action of the city is depicted by having several locations on the screen simultaneously. There are also some lovely transitions that blend reality and fantasy, most effectively perhaps when the husband and wife kiss in the street as cars rush by, but visually, we see them walking though a field of flowers. I particularly admired how the filmmakers used superimposition to reveal the image of the Woman from the City surrounding The Man as he looks at The Wife and decides to what to do. It’s very ingenious, and it’s quite the accomplishment for 1927 and a silent film. By the way, Sunrise features a synchronized soundtrack of music and sound effects, and that does contribute a great deal to our appreciation of the film and its story. It certainly isn’t what we now consider a “sound” film, but most silent movies had accompanying sound, either through someone playing music while the film ran or through some other mechanical means.
In 1989, Sunrise was one of the first twenty-five films to be selected by the Library of Congress for preservation as part of its National Film Registry. Wings had to wait until 1997 to be included as part of the registry. Even the Library of Congress seemed to acknowledge the greater artistic achievement of Sunrise even if the Academy has somewhat diminished its significance. However, if you want to see the full range of Academy Award winners for Best Picture, you really have to seek out Sunrise. I know that Wings is now the only film listed as Best Picture for 1927-28, but Sunrise won an Oscar that same year for what is, in every sense of the phrase, the best production. It deserves a look too.
Oscar Wins: Unique and Artistic Production, Best Actress (Janet Gaynor), and Best Cinematography
Other Nomination: Best Art Direction
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