coming and going
by Douglas Messerli
Edmund Golding and Henry
King (screenplay, based on a story by Joseph Hergesheimer), Henry King
(director) Tol’able David / 1921
Part of The Academy of
Motion Picture Arts and Sciences “Summer of Silents,” Henry King’s silent film Tol’able
David was shown on the evening of June 20th at The Academy’s Samuel Goldwyn Theater.
This
film was originally scheduled as a D.W. Griffith production, but his
involvement with Orphans of the Storm shifted his interest in the
project, and actor Richard Barthelmess smartly bought the rights to the Joseph
Hergesheimer story for $7,500, hiring Edmund Golding to write an adaptation in
which he could star. Barthelmess also signed with Inspiration Pictures to
produce the film. Although the new studio was owned by Charles H. Duell, it was
run by the seasoned director, Henry King, born in Virginia, who, sensitive to
the poor West Virginia families who the story represented, decided not only to
take on the film but to rewrite Golding’s script. Choosing his new discovery,
Gladys Hulette, to play the role of Esther Hatburn, King also brought musical
comedy veteran Ernest Torrence onboard to play the villain Luke Hatburn.
Filming in Crab Bottom, Virginia (now near Blue Grass), King stayed in the very hotel room where Hergesheimer wrote the story, and the local color of the area brought a sense of realism to the film that is seldom seen in silent productions of the era.
The story begins as an idyll of sorts, with the citizens the mythic West Virginia town living in a kind of peaceful Eden. The film is focused upon the Kinemon family, the slightly sickly father, Hunter (Edmund Gurney), the loving and hard-working mother (Marion Abbott), the eldest son, Allen (Warner Richmond), his wife Rose (Patterson Dial), and the youthfully beautiful mother’s boy, David. They live in near-perfect harmony with the wealthy landowner, for whom they farm, John Galt (Lawrence Eddinger) and their neighbors, Neighbor Hatburn (the photogenic Forrest Robinson) and his sweet daughter, Esther, who is the same age and obviously attracted to David.
Allen
works also for Galt, driving a hack into town each day to pick up travelers,
taking them to the next post where he picks up and returns with the mail. David
would surely love to follow in the footsteps of his brother, and, at of the age
where he is still a child but nearing adulthood, is, accordingly, the least
satisfied member of the family. Although he does what children did throughout
early 20th century rural American—swim in the local stream, play a harmonica,
fish, ogle at his neighbor Esther, and secretly smoke a pipe while dreaming
much of his days away—he is slightly dissatisfied with his role in it all, and
therein lies the heart of King’s story, helping to make it something far
greater than the simple “David and Goliath” soap opera that it pretends to
be.
David,
as his parents fondly describe him, is “tol’able,” meaning something they can
tolerate, a passable, good boy who will eventually become an important figure,
like his brother, in their community. But tol’able, in Southern dialect, also
suggests something else—as in phrases such as “I cal'late the man who lost that
blue bandanna wasn't a tol'able piece away when that knot was tied," and
“He lef 'me a tol'able sum.”—suggesting something more that passable, perhaps
even “significant” or “meaningful,” which is what David aspires to be. Like
Frankie in Carson McCullers’ A Member of the Wedding and numerous other
childhood tales, he is in that awkward age, torn between innocence and growing
awareness of the world around him. Focusing on the dark-eyed Barthelmess, King
transforms Tol’able David from a simple family feud or revenge tale, to
a moving story of coming of age.
But
the other times that Rocket runs afoul are far more dangerous. By this time
their neighbor Hatburn has been visited by and his farm taken over by his three
Hatburn cousins, an evil group of father and two near-idiot sons, who have
escaped from prison with nothing but further evil in their heads. Luke,
particularly, would rather destroy than see anything peacefully survive. King
described the character to his actor, Torrence, by suggesting that he was the
kind of man who would kill a cat simply to enjoy its suffering. Torrence was
surprised, accordingly, when no cat appeared in the script; ad-libbing, King
ordered up a cat, at which, when he first encounters it, the actor is ready to
throw a large rock until he is distracted.
Allen’s
wife has just had a baby, and the tragedy is palpable as she sits nursing the
baby beside Allen's bed. The whole family is consumed with grief, and as Hunter
takes down his gun to seek revenge, he has a stroke, collapsing into death.
Wildly, David takes down the gun from the wall, determined to battle the Hatburns
alone, until his mother, dragging him down into the mud, makes it clear that he
needs to stay home since he is now the only “man” of the house. While certainly
melodramatic in tone, King turns this whole series of events into a moving
tragedy.
The
shocking news of David's new role creates perhaps more tension in the young
teen than the feeling that he is still a boy. Without income the family must
now move into town, to a small hovel, where they live on next to nothing. When
David is eventually offered a job in Galt’s store, the young man gladly takes
on the responsibility, but he is still unforgiving of the Hatburns, refusing to
even speak to the innocent Esther.
The
beautiful scene at the school dance, with Esther, attempting to waltz with an
ungainly young peer while David stands outside, staring in with longing. Gradually
he moves into dance all by himself, the whole scene being one of the loveliest
of the film.
Escaping the party, Esther encounters
David, and they fall in love once more, this time consummating it with shy
kisses, after which, when her father appears, David darts behind a tree.
When,
the following day, the new hack driver arrives to work drunk, Galt is forced to
allow David to take over the rig, David joyfully taking on the responsibility
he has so long sought. But, as we all suspect, this will also mean an encounter
with the evil Hatburns, still holed up in the Hatburn cabin. David easily
delivers the travelers to their destination, but as he returns with the mail,
the bag falls from the hack at a small ford just in front of the Hatburn farm.
Discovered by Luke, the bag is dragged it into the house with evil
anticipation. When David discovers the mail missing, he retraces his tracks,
only to realize where it has fallen, and is forced to face the Hatburn gang
without even a gun.
. Had King kept the camera on this endless struggle between good and evil, his film might have become not only unbelievable, but incredibly boring. How long can we watch an enactment of a fight? But the director cuts away again, this time to the store where David’s mother has joined others eagerly awaiting the mail’s delivery and the achievement she perceives it will define to the community. Among the awaiting citizens is the old Hatburn father, who has come to town to plead that the sheriff do something about his cousins, upon which he is told “the jail won’t hold them.”
Cutting
again to the Hatburn farm, where Luke has been forced to release Esther in
order to face off with David, the camera prepares for the final David and
Goliath showdown; but once more King follows in another direction, as Esther
runs the entire way into town to report events, breathlessly announcing that
David has been killed by the Hatburns. The citizens, finally fed up with the
actions of the gang, join together in preparation to take justice into their
own hands.
The
final moments of the battle are brilliantly played out behind camera range, as
finally that door of the rugged cabin is thrown open with David, seriously
hurt, emerging, clearly the victor of the struggle within.
Against
all odds, he crawls into the hack, mailbag in hand, and drives into town just
at the moment its citizens are about to leave, closing the film with an image
of movement in two directions, coming and going, signifying the unity of their
new found hero, finally a grown man, with the formerly passive community in
which he abides.
For
years after, this tension between passivity and aggression will be at the
center of American Westerns and other films of rural life.
Los Angeles, June 25,
2011
Reprinted from World
Cinema Review (June 2011) and Reading Films: My International Cinema (Los
Angeles: Green Integer, 2012).




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