Enoch Arden

Enoch Arden (1911) - As if to prove Griffith’s point about the public’s appetite for feature-length films, when Biograph released this two-reeler in two separate parts for viewing on successive days, public demand eventually forced them to slice the two together to make one 33-minute film. Griffith was correct that audiences had developed the attention span to focus on a story for an extended length of time, and they were frustrated when Enoch Arden, Part 1 ended without a resolution.

As for the film itself, I do not believe that it is as notable as some of the other Griffith films of the period. Supposedly based on Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem of the same title, Enoch Arden is basically a remake 1910’s The Unchanging Sea, with a love triangle thrown in for good measure, with an ending of pathos rather than joy.

Emotionally, this little melodrama must have worked to the audience’s favor, but there is little or no advance in cinematic technique at work here.

Two things can be said in Enoch Arden’s favor. The additional length of the film allows Griffith time to develop character and to draw the audience in. He can tell his story unhurriedly (though rarely has he rushed anything before), and thus increase emotional involvement. The other nice aspect of the film is the acting, which is very nicely done by the performers, with notable understatement and humanity.

The basic story is very simple. Enoch Arden (played by William Lucas, the black-faced George of His Trust) and Philip Ray (the nobly sad-faced Francis J. Granon - who would later become a director himself) compete for the affections of Annie Lee (Linda Avidson (Griffith), repeating essentially her same performance in The Unchanging Sea). Annie picks Enoch, they marry and have children, while Philip Ray broods silently alone.

Enoch undertakes an overseas adventure, and when he does not return, landing on a deserted island, Annie mourns and patiently waits for his return. As the years pass, Phillip Ray gently advances his desires, pressing Annie to think of her children. She demurs, and Philip Ray dejectedly accepts her decision.

Meanwhile, Enoch has grown into a kind of wild man of Borneo - his savage beard presages the contemporary vision of Tom Hanks in Castaway, but he is given considerably less to do. His chief vocation seems to be standing around on the island between coconut trees, getting older and harrier.

By the time Annie’s children are grown, they entreat upon her mother to remarry, which she finally relents and does, to the overwhelming joy of the patient Philip Ray. Of course, at the same time, Enoch is finally rescued and brought home.

It is the climactic scene that is played delicately, and with such care that lends the film its true charm and emotional aspect. Enoch cautiously approaches his home, and peers in the window. There he sees his aging wife along with his grown children, happily grouped as a family with the kind Philip Ray. Not wishing to disrupt their harmony, Enoch simply accepts his fate and silently, sadly, simply turns away.

There are some lovely moments in the film. As in The Unchaning Sea, Griffith gets wonderful, expressive shots of his actors with the crashing waves as a background. A good-sized wooden frigate has been acquired from some source, lending the movie a somewhat epic feel, especially when Enoch boards it from a rowboat. There is the tumultuous poetry of the survivors of the shipwreck struggling in ferocious waters, and even better, a shot taken from off the shore (probably on a dock), where we watch the staggering men fighting their exhausting way through the surf to dry land. Jump cuts abound throughout, as we contrast Enoch’s island mishap with Annie forlornly waiting and aging back home, searching the sea through her pocket telescope.

However, it is not any technical bravura that wins for Enoch Arden any of its emotional appeal. Rather, it is in the understated style of the acting, the naturalness with which the characters are imbued, that sustains its interest and concern for the audience. Griffith not only directs the actors well, but he gives them plenty of space in which to emote, breathe and become real people. The slow, rhythmical cadence of the film gives it a warmth that can hold the attention of a viewer for two entire reels. And it is through these devices, which do not seem devised, that allow people to be caught up in the tragic pathos of the story and its ending.

Griffith is showing a different kind of mastery here - a delicate touch that displays a artist’s growing confidence to let his material work for itself. In all, Enoch Arden is a much more fully realized vision than The Unchanging Sea. Here we are witnessing the gradual maturation of the invisibly poetic realism that would come to dominate the film style of American movies, practically up until Citizen Kane.