This film marked the talkie acting debut of Erich Von Stroheim, a great talent on the verge of a sharp professional decline. The plot concerns the rise and fall of a self-centered stage ventriloquist, and offers a sad parallel with the career of its star. I take no pleasure in saying that this is one of the most depressing movies I've ever seen, and I certainly don't blame Von Stroheim for its shortcomings. The Great Gabbo was a low budget effort produced at the very dawn of the talking picture era, and it suffers from the common defects of many early talkies: the pacing is leaden, the dialog is clunky, and the performances are stiff and self-conscious. In a couple of cases actors obviously fluffed their lines, but the budget apparently didn't allow for re-takes.
These technical flaws might not matter so much if we were given a decent story and some interesting characters, but the script is flatly written and repetitive, and the central figure is deeply unsympathetic. From the first moments of the first scene the point is made that Gabbo the ventriloquist is a sour, abusive egomaniac, but we never learn why, and he never changes. So why should we care what happens to him? It's also noticeable that although he's a stage ventriloquist Gabbo lacks a sense humor and his act isn't funny, even when we're told that Gabbo is wowing Broadway audiences. We have no sympathy for him (sympathy for Erich Von Stroheim is another matter), and the other characters are superficial.
It doesn't help much that the filmmakers took advantage of the backstage setting by adding gratuitous musical numbers. Even if you enjoy popular music of the 1920s, as I do, these numbers are dreary and, in a couple of cases, unintentionally funny. Prime example: "Caught in a Web of Love," staged in an enormous spider's web with the performers dressed as insects. To top it off, the juvenile lead happens to be wearing his ludicrous spider costume while he gravely discusses what we would call 'relationship issues' with the leading lady, who is dressed as a housefly. That scene does earn points for sheer weirdness, however.
In my opinion the only sequence that works is the last one, and it works not in relation to the movie itself but as a sad metaphor for Erich Von Stroheim's career. (Warning: possible 'spoiler' ahead.) As Gabbo loses his mind backstage during a performance he becomes enraged at the sound of the jazz played by the orchestra, and covers his ears screaming, "Stop it! Stop that music!" again and again. For a moment he's no longer Gabbo, he's Erich Von Stroheim, icon of the silent screen, driven mad by noise. Ultimately Gabbo is led away from the theater as his name is taken off the marquee. It doesn't take much imagination to view that moment as symbolic of what was happening to the man playing him, off camera.
These technical flaws might not matter so much if we were given a decent story and some interesting characters, but the script is flatly written and repetitive, and the central figure is deeply unsympathetic. From the first moments of the first scene the point is made that Gabbo the ventriloquist is a sour, abusive egomaniac, but we never learn why, and he never changes. So why should we care what happens to him? It's also noticeable that although he's a stage ventriloquist Gabbo lacks a sense humor and his act isn't funny, even when we're told that Gabbo is wowing Broadway audiences. We have no sympathy for him (sympathy for Erich Von Stroheim is another matter), and the other characters are superficial.
It doesn't help much that the filmmakers took advantage of the backstage setting by adding gratuitous musical numbers. Even if you enjoy popular music of the 1920s, as I do, these numbers are dreary and, in a couple of cases, unintentionally funny. Prime example: "Caught in a Web of Love," staged in an enormous spider's web with the performers dressed as insects. To top it off, the juvenile lead happens to be wearing his ludicrous spider costume while he gravely discusses what we would call 'relationship issues' with the leading lady, who is dressed as a housefly. That scene does earn points for sheer weirdness, however.
In my opinion the only sequence that works is the last one, and it works not in relation to the movie itself but as a sad metaphor for Erich Von Stroheim's career. (Warning: possible 'spoiler' ahead.) As Gabbo loses his mind backstage during a performance he becomes enraged at the sound of the jazz played by the orchestra, and covers his ears screaming, "Stop it! Stop that music!" again and again. For a moment he's no longer Gabbo, he's Erich Von Stroheim, icon of the silent screen, driven mad by noise. Ultimately Gabbo is led away from the theater as his name is taken off the marquee. It doesn't take much imagination to view that moment as symbolic of what was happening to the man playing him, off camera.