The improbably famous André Deed, known mainly for his farcical
character of Boireau(in French) or Cretinetti(in Italian)in split-reel
comedies in 1910, became a director once the craze for silly burlesque
film had died away and led to the more artistic wave of feature-length
works that most European filmmakers were prone to create during the
teens. He was, in Italy mostly, considered as a Melies-influenced
artist and it is very easy to speculate, imagine or fancy anything
about his films since they are all, or most of all, lost. So the DVD
edition of the Mechanical Man comes as a very interesting treat for any
historian, any science fiction fan, or even any person interested in
the silent film, even if it is in a much truncated form. Once the
viewer gets accustomed to the poor quality of the transfer, and to the
fact that 55 minutes of the work are now gone forever, what stands out
is the incredible uniqueness of the film: it starts(in the current
form) as any proper serial would do, with suspense, a criminal fire, a
daring escape, masks and chases... then we move to the romantic
subplot, involving an awkward and rather self-consciously Ugly Deed,
who can't pass for a Valentino, nor a Fairbanks. We are directed next
to scenes in which the robot is introduced, triggering much
Nosferatu-like suspense(To protect themselves against the giant robot,
the characters close doors behind them, and feel safe, but they-and
we-all know that the robot will keep on moving forward and of course
will dispose of the door in his own sweet way, rendering any action
against him useless)and the finale is very much in the somewhat
excitingly scary mold of a Méliès-meets-Feuillade-meets-L'Herbier type
of work: dazzlingly original, eccentric, suspenseful and highly visual.
At the end, the heroes learn of the identity of the villain: she is one
of the supposed victims of the robot, and the director has so blatantly
stripped and exposed her in the last robot scenes that we feel her true
identity was probably the only missing piece of the puzzle as far as
she was concerned... this erotic undercurrent is one of the bases for
the artwork for posters that were long the only extant material
concerning this film. 3 years before Aelita, 6 before Metropolis, this
film invents a typically European science fiction and does so with such
vitality , fun and pace that the vision of this museum artifact,
however painful the prints makes it, is really a pleasant experience.