CrawlerChunky
In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.
Yash Wade
Close shines in drama with strong language, adult themes.
Guillelmina
The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.
Darin
One of the film's great tricks is that, for a time, you think it will go down a rabbit hole of unrealistic glorification.
silentmoviefan
This film was terrible, terrible! As I said in my title, Adolf Hitler loved this film because it put the British in a very bad light. Among other things, Hitler was not known for his good taste! Yes, this film has other problems. First of all, its depressing! A guy (Virgen) gets food for his family, but is captured by the British and held prisoner for five years. When Virgen, on bended knee, tearfully explains what his skiff was doing in the water, the British laugh in his face. When he's finally released from prison, he comes home to see that his wife and child have starved to death. A bit later in the film, he goes out to rescue a yacht in trouble and sees that it's none other than the commander of the ship who imprisoned him five years earlier, along with his wife and baby. Herein lies another problem. It gets kind of fuzzy about whether or not Virgen ultimately rescues these people. You see someone else do that while Virgen is raging at them. Then there's the ending, which I will go ahead and tell you because I don't want you to waste your time on this turkey. Now, in the scene before the end, Terje is waving at these British people. I could have ended there (and gotten a "2" or "3" from me). But nooooooooooooooo! He dies and it shows his grave! Gee whiz! Again, I say, do yourself a favor and DO NOT watch this!
wmorrow59
Victor Sjöström is perhaps best known as a director for the two silent features he made in America with Lillian Gish, The Scarlet Letter (1926) and The Wind (1928); as an actor, he is surely best remembered for his deeply moving performance as the aging professor in Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries, made in 1957 when he was 78 years old. But the recent recovery of a strikingly well-preserved, tinted print of one of Sjöström's early works produced in his native Sweden should give his reputation a fresh boost and firmly re-establish his place as one of the great directors of the cinema's first generation, alongside D.W. Griffith, Maurice Tourneur, and Erich Von Stroheim. 'Terje Vigen,' based on a poem by Henrik Ibsen, is a remarkably sophisticated film of great beauty, a tragic tale with an ending that is unexpectedly uplifting. I can't recall any other movie I've seen that tells such a sad story and nonetheless left me feeling so exhilarated at the finale.This project marked a personal and professional milestone for the director. A former stage actor, Sjöström made his movie debut as a performer in 1912 at a studio called Svenska Biografteatern and began directing films for the company soon afterward, but in later years he asserted that most of his early efforts were vulgar and conventional. By the summer of 1916 he was at a low-point, unhappy about his career and the recent failure of his marriage. When producer Charles Magnusson suggested he adapt Ibsen's epic poem "Terje Vigen" Sjöström was skeptical of its potential as screen material, that is, until a bicycle trip to the Grimstad coast, where the poem is set, changed his mind. For financial reasons the filming took place on the sea shore near Stockholm rather than Grimstad, but the director took full advantage of his location's rocky coast and crashing waves, making the landscape an integral part of his film. When the lead actor originally slated to play Terje Vigen dropped out Sjöström took the role himself, and thus put his personal stamp on the finished product. He gave a measured yet intense performance in the title role and appeared in practically every scene.The story is set in the early 19th century and may remind some viewers of the tale of Enoch Arden (which had supplied the plot of one of D.W. Griffith's strongest Biograph dramas in 1911). Terje Vigen is a fisherman who quits the seafaring life to marry and start a family in Grimstad, a coastal village. But the Napoleonic wars sweep Europe, and when the British navy sets up a blockade of his island the threat of starvation becomes a grim reality. Rather than see his wife and daughter starve, Terje attempts to run the blockade and return with food. He almost succeeds, but the British spot him in his small boat, give chase, and eventually catch him. Dragged onto the deck of the British frigate he begs for mercy, but the Captain coldly ignores his pleas and has him imprisoned. Five years later Terje is released and returns to his village to find strangers living in his home: his wife and daughter died of starvation. Years pass, and Terje dreams only of vengeance. When a yacht founders off the coast he rescues the owner with his wife and child, and recognizes him as the British captain who denied him mercy years earlier. Terje has it within his power to kill all three, but the sight of the child restores his humanity. He spares them, and his desire for vengeance is conquered.The first thing you notice about this film is that the seaside landscapes are thrilling. The cinematography is excellent throughout, but 'Terje Vigen' is more than just a series of beautiful images. Sjöström's Terje is a strong and dignified protagonist. In a role that could easily have lent itself to eye-rolling histrionics the director did not permit himself to overact, and he set the tone for the other performers: there isn't a single false moment from anyone. Sjöström's directorial technique is especially impressive during the emotional high point, Terje's frantic attempt to escape the British sailors in his boat. It's startling to find a sequence like this one in such an early feature: the director puts the viewer squarely in the midst of the action by alternately placing his camera in each of the boats. He cuts back and forth between shots of Terje's arms furiously rowing and shots of the uniformed British sailors coolly coordinating their pursuit. The camera rocks with the ocean, the tempo of the editing accelerates, and the suspense builds sharply. It's an amazing sequence, especially coming after the stately, melancholy introductory scenes on shore. The sea chase also features the only moment of humor, when Terje briefly believes that he's eluded his pursuers, and "cocks a snook" at them (i.e. puts his thumb to his nose and waggles his fingers). But his triumph is short-lived.The story is a tragedy, but Terje's climactic change of heart is what makes this film a surprisingly uplifting experience. After reading a synopsis of the plot I confess I sat down to watch the film expecting it to be gloomy and depressing, but instead found an exciting, expertly-handled work of silent cinema that left me buzzing. Apparently 'Terje Vigen' marked Victor Sjöström's first international success, popular not only in Sweden and throughout Europe but also in the U.S., Latin America and Asia; fully ninety years after it was produced I can understand why.
tonstant viewer
If this movie had been made in 1923, I'd have been more blasé, but for 1916 it's nothing short of miraculous.The open-air filming is smooth and well-executed. The emotional rawness is hit hard but never gets overheated. The acting is intense but does not stray into laughable "stagger-and-clutch." Dutiful fidelity to Ibsen's poem may cramp the subtitles, but never interferes with masterful story-telling in the film itself.There is one sequence, in which a launch from a British warship destroys a fisherman's rowboat and then attempts to hunt down the fisherman while he's swimming for his life underwater, that is an absolute classic that will live in your memory.This film is short, but very powerful, and worth going the extra mile to see.
Alice Liddel
'Terje Vigen' is probably the purest example in Sjostrom's work of the conflict between the natural world and civilisation. It is this theme, his facility with action narratives, and his privileging of monumental landscapes that bring him closer to the American Western than his most famous compatriot and pupil, Ingmar Bergman.'Terje' is based on an epic poem by Ibsen, a writer most famous for his plays. The plot is simple enough - Terje Vigen is a salty old sea-dog in the early 19th century, tired of a hard, marine life, who settles down to blissful domesticity with his weaving wife and young child. After five years, however, the Napoleonic Wars break out, and the resulting blockade by the English forces the small community into starvation. Vigen decides to row to a village across the sea to smuggle food for his family; evading the English naval lookout on his way out, he is captured on his return, and thrown into jail for five years. Returning a forgotten man, he finds his house occupied by strangers and his family long dead. He becomes a broken, reclusive lighthouseman; one stormy night, he rescues his captor with his family. Will Vigen get his bitter revenge?'Terje' features sequences still unequalled in sea dramas - Vigen's clambering onto the huge yardarm to unfurl the sail; the entire smuggling sequence, from the silvery ripples of the water as Vigen rows away from his wife, radiating away from her towards his doom, to his first evasion from the navy, hiding in an improvised hole, to the terrifying hunt, a brilliantly edited suspense sequence, with one man, old Vigen, chased by a crew of young professionals, to the messy, tortuous climax, Vigen struggling and diving, being shot at by frankly inept sailors.These action scenes, in which the natural world is an impassively fierce presence, are contrasted with the domestic - the scenes where he greets his wife and first meets his new child and plays with it are as touching and believable images of family life as anything in cinema ('Thomas Graal's first child' confirms Sjostrom's rare facility with children), while the communal scenes of near-famine are harrowing.But there is no easy split between nature and civilisation - Vigen's house is ominously framed by the vast sea, while his adventures on the waves are provoked by domestic needs. Neither is there a simplistic dichotomy between the 'truth' and 'honesty' of nature, and the hypocrisy of society. The latter might cause the murderous war and Vigen's imprisonment, but it also tempers Vigen's warped nature in the aftermath of his loss, where the sight of a family checks his destructive urges. The film closes with an astonishing image, a lingering shot of his family's grave overlooking the sea at sunset. It has an immense, metaphysical, enigmatic, uncanny impact, somewhat frightening in its restfulness, that is closer to Bergman (the sing-song, ye-olde-Englishe translation of Ibsen's verse in the intertitles are unintentionally, distractingly comic)