The extent of initial brutality in this silent film is pretty shocking. There’s something deeply unpalatable about watching the early days of Gwynplaine’s (Conrad Veidt) tragic and troubled life, and the grotesque theatricality of the players only reinforces that. Truly, you needed to be made of stern stuff to watch this kind of film back in the silent era.
Silent films are very much an acquired taste, but I would suggest this is worth anyone’s time. My score is 8 out of 10.
After Paul Leni arrived at Universal studios, the expressionist style of German horror began to be the standard in Hollywood too. The star of Leni's visually stunning German horror, Waxworks (1924) was cast as his hero in The Man Who Laughs. Conrad Veidt is Gwynplaine, who was disfigured as a boy by the King. He must grow up with a hideous grin which masks his ceaseless misery.
Veidt is heartbreaking as the suffering grotesque who joins the circus. The power of the film, is the pathos of a man so mutilated he can never show how he really feels. The clown. Mary Philbin supports as a blind woman, fated never to see her own beauty. And because she can touch the lips of Gwynplaine, she is fooled that he's always happy.
Leni is brilliant at the visuals, but less gifted at narrative and while it looks like art, the film is slow. The expressionist sets of 17th century England are excellent. There isn't the social critique of Victor Hugo's novel, but it does expose the brutal oppression of the poor by the aristocracy, enabled by the King. Leni portrays the aristocrats as being as physically hideous as the members of the freak show the young outcast is exploited by.
There is something primal about the monstrous characters we encounter in silent horrors. They ask ask us to relive one of the terrible fears of childhood, that we ourselves are uniquely unlovable, and the love we need to survive cannot be returned. These roles are eternal, universal nightmares.