The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Metro Pictures Corporation (1920) Dir. Rex Ingram
134 min. / B&W with Tinted Sequences / 1.33:1
Score by Carl Davis / DTS-HD 2.0 Stereo
Blu-ray: Warner Archive $21.99
Ibáñez’ sprawling 1916 novel of a family fighting on opposite sides during the Great War was deemed unfilmable, but Metro executive June Mathis, arguably the most powerful woman in Hollywood other than Mary Pickford, not only disagreed but wrote the script herself (she was a talented screenwriter) and selected both Ingram to direct and an up and coming actor she admired, Rudolph Valentino, to star, having to fight the studio for both choices. The result, thanks to a gorgeous photochemical restoration and brilliantly offered on the new Warner Archive Blu-ray, is a wow, both in 1920 and in 2025.
Madariaga has made his fortune as a cattleman and landowner; his two daughters marry, respectively, a German whom he despises and a Frenchman whom he likes. His grandsons on the German side like to march and stand around looking stupid, so is Madariaga glad when his other daughter has a nice French son, Julio, whom the old man spoils until he grows up to be a sexy tango dancer and artist and mostly a vain, randy woman defiler. After Madariaga’s death, the two sides of the family take their shares of the fortune and head back to “homes” they never knew, France and Germany. The Frenchman buys a castle and stocks it full of priceless treasures; the German raises his sons to be good soldiers. Julio? He spends time with the wife of a friend of his father’s, and all this comes to a head when the Archduke Ferdinand is assassinated and the nations start arming for the coming conflict. Meanwhile, a Christlike figure who dresses like Rasputin warns of the coming of the four prophesized horsemen of the Book of Revelations – Conquest, War, Famine, and Death. And sure enough, they come in a hair-raising sequence that you’ll never forget.
An astonishingly good and powerful film despite its age, and dotted with faces recognizable even then whom we’d see in movies for decades, notably Alan Hale as the rotten German son-in-law and Wallace Beery as a schweinhund German officer. As for Valentino, what a pretty boy, and the tango sequence was added solely to let him do what he did best (besides look good). He also gets the biggest laugh of the picture (and yes, there is much humor to be found, mostly via a helpful monkey but also with some timely cross-dressing) when he promises the married lady that if she comes into his apartment, he won’t try any funny stuff and then looks straight at us out in the audience as if to say, “If she buys that, there’s a bridge in Brooklyn I’ve got for her.” Rather surprisingly, the actual star of the picture is Josef Swickard as the French son-in-law with an affinity for castle knick-knacks; we remember him from several 1930s serials, including The Lost City.
The battle sequences are impressive, up there with Birth of a Nation, the dramatics are good for their time, and the drama is powerful and engrossing, although one wishes that Alice Terry (Mrs. Ingram in real life) had made up her mind between her husband and Valentino sooner. The first appearance of the Four Horsemen is terrifying, incidentally.
As for the film itself, the restoration is stunning, with beautiful tinting and a terrific score by Carl Davis that makes use of some familiar tunes, including La Marseillaise. The two-hour-plus running time just flies by. Both the film and the presentation are a masterpiece, and this is a film to showcase the best of the silent era to those who wish to experience what great films were like before they could talk. Bravo!
