the soldier
who died as her brother
by Douglas Messerli
The Moving Picture World
synopsis provides a much deeper explanation of the characters and their motives
than D. W. Griffith’s 1910 silent film does, so I will use it to provide
background information that is not evident on viewing the picture.
The film ostensibly stars Charles Randolph (Henry B. Walthall), a young
man of the South whose who father and other relatives were apparently killed in
noble fights of the past. Like many a young southern boy, however, Charles is
bombastic and haughty, and a heavy drinker to boot. But with the excitement of
General Lee being bivouacked in a camp nearby, and with the fact that his two
best friends, Wheeler (Charles West) and Carter (Joseph Graybill) have just become
lieutenants and are about to go off to serve—each taking their turn to offer up
affectionate goodbyes to Charles’s sister, Agnes (Dorothy West)—Charles is
himself finally convinced to enlist, reappearing from another room suddenly in
uniform.
Both his mother (Grace Henderson) and, particularly Agnes, are overjoyed
by his decision and proudly see the three friends off as they make their way, a
bit like The Three Musketeers, to Lee’s headquarters, taking with them a
full-sized Confederate flag which Agnes has just finished sewing and stitching
together.
Hardly do they have time to acclimate themselves to their new
environment before Lee calls for a strong rider to take a message to the front,
the three all volunteering, with the General choosing Randolph.
Randolph sips on a whiskey flask he’s brought along, perhaps to fortify
his courage, and rides off bravely. But almost the moment he hits the road,
Yankee lookouts are on the chase, guns ablaze, and he turns and rides quickly
in the other direction. They follow, and others along the way join in on the
foray. At one point Randolph, now clearly terrified, stops off for a second for
another sip from his flask, observing a nearby Rebel soldier falling dead, shot
from the men at his heels.
Randolph races off, arriving back to the family mansion, hardly able to
stumble in before falling into a drunken stupor. Greeting him with great
consternation, his mother and Agnes momentarily feel alarmed for him until they
recognize his condition, and in trying to move and awaken him they discover the
important message hidden within his uniform, realizing suddenly that he has not
fulfilled his mission and certainly is in no condition to continue.
She rushes back to Lee’s camp which is now involved in a full-out battle
with the enemy, Griffith’s ability to make the scene appear real dramatizing
both the adrenalin excitement of warfare and its horrors. Without a weapon,
Agnes can do little but cheer on the musketeers, standing close behind them,
and when they seem to rout the attackers, rushing forward with a flag in her
hands.
But almost immediately, those who have retreated are apparently
reinforced by other Northern soldiers who come rushing forward to overwhelm the
Southern defenses, killing Agnes among others in the process.
To keep out all others as well as to
punish her son for his cowardice and drunken behavior, she orders all the
shutters to be closed forever, as the house is sealed up in a manner that
cannot help but remind one of an Edgar Allan Poe story.
Eventually others begin to return from
the war which the South has lost. They come bearing flowers for the loss of
Charles, but also to resume their courtship with Agnes. What the mother tells
them is never revealed, but she keeps them away at great expense. At one point
Charles, attempting to unshutter his tomb and find out what is happening on the
outside, is held back by his mother, who throws a blanket over her son to hide
him and stands guard over the chair in which he sits, asking them to leave her
in peace. When they obey, she commands the shutters closed again, and the
ex-soldiers walk away confused and saddened.
As the years pass, Charles ages, his
mother becoming a now very old woman. From time to time the soldiers still
approach the house with closed shutters, leaving memorial bouquets but not
daring to knock. But at one point, when Charles’ old friend Wheeler can be
heard on the porch, he commands that their old servant pull open the shutters,
the sun pouring into the room so brightly that it clearly dazes Charles,
causing him such consternation that he dies of what appears to be a heart
attack. Their family’s dark secret has been kept.
This early film demonstrates one of the most specific dramatic moments
of a woman’s willing transformation into the male gender, even if it has
nothing basically to do with sexuality; and this work, much like his later Judith
of Bethulia explores, on a smaller scale, genuine transgender and perhaps
even transsexual desires. If nothing else, Agnes outrides and displays a
bravery not apparent in most of the other males.
Yet there is been no mention of this film, to my knowledge, in any of
the discussions of queer figures in film, not even on the extensive lists of
films with possible LGBTQ+ subjects on the internet’s Letterboxd,
despite the fact that his film is far more significant than the dozens of drag
films touted as early indications of homosexual depictions in cinema.
Finally, with its representation of an almost pathological fervor of
regional patriotism and violence, Griffith’s film presents us with eerie
characters who, having caused their own destruction closed themselves forever
off in a world amazingly similar to Poe’s out of both shame for their
inabilities to act and their shameful actions simultaneously. Griffith implies
that the South has entombed itself in a pride based on enslavement. Perhaps
Agnes’ vital and exciting sacrifice of her own life was the only alternative.
The fact that the family’s all-too-loyal black servant was performed in
blackface by the Irish actor W. J. Butler* speaks volumes that perhaps Griffith
and his writer could not have comprehended.
*Butler’s grandson was David Butler,
who directed two of the titles discussed in these volumes, Just Imagine
(1930) and Calamity Jane (1953). The central character of the latter
film bore a great deal in common with Agnes Randolph.
Los Angeles, November 16, 2022
Reprinted from World Cinema
Review (November 2022).
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