"Tempest" will be of interest to anyone who wants an example of John Barrymore's considerable screen presence. He's quite good as a star cadet culled from the ranks of the Russian peasantry whose fortunes take a turn for the worse when he falls foul of his boss's daughter. The story is pure melodrama, with lots of arched eyebrows and swooning romantic embraces, but Barrymore pulls it off with flair, and there's something ahead of its time about his acting. It's natural in a way that a lot of acting in the silent era (and even for a while after) wasn't.The film overall is a bit saggy, and suffers from lugubrious pacing and static shots that linger past the point when they should. William Cameron Menzies won the first Academy Award given for art direction for his work on this film and another from the same award year, "The Dove," while Charles Rosher, who won the first cinematography Oscar for "Sunrise," provides the camera work. To be sure the film looks good, but it would have benefited from crisper editing.A not overly memorable film from the last days of the silents, but enjoyable for what it is.Grade: B

At last--I can now understand all the hoopla about John Barrymore as the Adonis of the Jazz Age! In this l928 extravaganza, he portrays a "peasant" who is obsessed in becoming an officer of the Russian military. In the early part of the movie, he's shown swimming, although he wears pants. For a man in is forties, and even then maintaining a torturous lifestyle of relentless drinking, Barrymore looks amazingly buff and beautiful. In that era, male stars rarely displayed musculature torsos. Valentino and George O'Brien were the exceptions--but Barrymore also possessed that profile of surreal beauty. No wonder his moniker was The Great Profile. Ten years later, he would be a mental and physical wreck, lampooning himself in such movie travesties as Universals' "The Great Profile." Study him in "The Tempest" and be spellbound.

'Tempest' gives John Barrymore plenty of chances to show his left profile. The plot -- utmost tosh, about a peasant cavalry officer obsessed with Princess Tamara during the Russian revolution -- doesn't stand up to analysis. Suffice it to say that this is one of those movies where a man keeps harassing a woman until she falls in love with him.As Tamara, the haughty White Russian princess, Camilla Horn makes a magnificent entrance on horseback, riding sidesaddle in a form-fitting outfit with gauntlet gloves. Barrymore acquits himself well with a ridiculous script. There's one painful scene in which Lieutenant Markov (Barrymore) sups large quantities of booze to show how manly he is. Knowing what alcohol did to Barrymore's life and career, I cringe when I see him drinking on the screen.Among the ridiculous elements is Boris de Fast as a gap-toothed Bolshevik whose ability to be conveniently present during all the plot twists (even surreptitiously entering a military stockade) borders on the supernatural. Ullrich Haupt, as Barrymore's villainous superior officer, is splendidly hissable in a role that seems tailored for Erich von Stroheim. Character actor Michael Mark plays one of the cavalry troopers: no dialogue, no business, but his distinctive facial structure calls attention to itself. Louis Wolheim supplies a bit too much comic relief as the bulbous and bull-like Bulba: I guess he must be Taurus Bulba. Wolheim plays a cavalry sergeant, but his immense bulk makes him implausible in the role; Wolheim is built more like an infantryman.By far, the greatest appeal of this movie is Charles Rosher's dazzling camera-work, supplemented by the usual brilliant production design of William Cameron Menzies. The opening scene is a travelling shot of a military garrison: the camera is clearly panning across models, but they're as exquisitely detailed as one of those miniature villages that used to be so popular in Britain. Eventually the camera turns round a corner to show men walking past full-scale buildings ... but the cut is so well done, it's nearly seamless. Elsewhere, there's a splendid subjective shot through the bottom of an upturned glass ... and a fine example of double-exposure as the delirious Barrymore, rotting in the stockade, envisions his comrades in battle.I was also impressed with the consistent use of dissolves whenever printed words, handwriting or inscriptions were shown on screen. As all the characters are Russian, we first see signs and captions written in Cyrillic, followed by a dissolve into English translations. (Compare this with 'The Last Command', made at a different studio this same year, in which a Russian telegram is shown on screen in English.) Just a couple of times in 'Tempest' the dissolve device is not used, and there's one bizarre shot in which a handwritten note reading 'Do not disturb' in English is posted on the same door as a sign reading 'Commissar' in Cyrillic. Still, I'm vastly impressed that the art department went to so much trouble.Although the script is rubbish -- and I'm dismayed that the Bolsheviks are depicted favourably -- Barrymore's role has an impressive amount of moral ambiguity. Lieutenant Markov is basically moral and ethical, but he becomes obsessed with Princess Tamara ... and his behaviour degenerates accordingly. The script (and Barrymore) could have taken an easier route by contriving to make all of Markov's reversals a matter of circumstances rather than down to Markov's personal flaws.Despite a howlingly implausible script, the visuals and the acting are so good in this film that I'll rate it 7 in 10.

1928 was a year for Russian Revolution stories in Hollywood movies. Probably the best was von Sternberg's THE LAST COMMAND with Emil Jannings, Evelyn Brent and William Powell giving great performances. This piece has great performances from John Barrymore and Louis Wollheim, but the female lead, Camillia Horn, producer Joseph Schenck's mistress, gives a performance that is largely composed of staring haughtily. Well, it's the way her part is written, I suppose in this melodramatic tripe. She despises Barrymore, she loves Barrymore, she despises Barrymore, then comes the revolution....Even uncredited directing by Lewis Milestone couldn't help. Horn can't have been a bad actress with a sixty-year career in Germany, but she made this movie and the stinker ETERNAL LOVE in Hollywood, again with Barrymore under Lubitsch's direction and returned to Germany. Maybe she stared haughtily at Schenck too often.What is worthwhile in this film is the late silent camerawork, courtesy of Charles Rosher. The late 1920s produced camerawork that moved about like a soap bubble on the breath of imagination. The advent of sound tied it down to a neurotic adoration of the still shot that it did not begin to recover from for a quarter of a century.But this picture features camerawork that is astonishing. The party sequence, is balletic; the prison sequences trap you in bars of darkness and Rosher backlights everyone with a star halo that still takes your breath away, even in the scratchy prints that survive. This is one every fan fan needs to watch: not for the story, which is awful, not for the performances, some of which are excellent, but for the pictures. Look at every single frame. You won't regret it.