Four Sons

The maternal Fatherland, homage to Ufa. "Old country" memories, a storybook burg peopled by Bavarian clock-figurines, rather like Gogol. The rotund postman (Albert Gran) sports Jannings whiskers and spins with happiness until he has tragic news to deliver, then he's a slumped messenger of death with a shadow slanted like Nosferatu's. The elderly widow (Margaret Mann) lives idyllically with her brood—officer (Francis X. Bushman Jr.), blacksmith (Charles Morton), herdsman (George Meeker) and driver (James Hall)—and dinner every night warrants a symmetrical family-portrait composition. The Great War darkens the operetta scenario: Two sons march off to the Russian front, a third one leaves for America and the last is forcibly recruited, the bereft mütterchen is left with an empty table filled with apparitions. (Cimino in The Deer Hunter recognizes the shift from abundance to barrenness.) In a post-Sunrise daze, John Ford pays ample tribute (Hall's introduction to a hectic American street, artificial clouds parting to make way for studio sunlight) while exploring his own emotionalism. Call to arms ("Giff dose Heinies hell!") and the ensuing grief, brother against brother in a misty wheat field so the Yank colleague can voice the theme ("I guess those fellows have mothers, too"). The black cat in front of the troops, the welcome truculence of Jack Pennick's mug, a certain theme picked up by Borzage (Three Comrades). Liberty Delicatessen in the New World, back home the Hun (Earle Foxe) left with monocle and pistol. Armistice bells, Ellis Island cells. "You forgot to bring Grandma with you!" A slice of cake with her grandson is the immigrant's reward. Pilgrimage, Four Men and a Prayer, How Green Was My Valley... With June Collyer, Frank Reicher, and Robert Parrish. In black and white.