This is the sort of film that many viewers are made to feel sheepish about enjoying. Studies of Rudolph Valentino always take pains to point out that this is not a particularly strong film, and it must be said that Valentino as Sheik Ahmed does not do his best work herefor the first part of the film he uses very exaggerated facial expressions derived from pantomime that, as flamboyant on screen as he could be, he seldom used before or since. (I suspect that neither he nor the director George Melford expected The Sheik to become the sleeper hit it didit was a routine studio picture based on a bestselling bodice ripperand that Valentino was hamming it up.) And there is no denying that the story is very melodramatic, even kitschy. Yet, when all is said and done, I found this to be an engaging, well paced film from beginning to end (it may be campy, but it's never boring) and Valentino with his dark piercing eyes and clad in Hollwood's version of flowing Middle Eastern robes is very charismatic once he drops the mannered grimacing.
Ahmed's kidnapping and (possible) rape of Lady Diana are of course politically incorrect today, but going by comments I've read and heard these scenes still get a considerable number of women hot and bothered (women whom I'm sure have no problem distinguishing an on screen fantasy from the horrors of an actual assault). A modern audience, quite understandably, is also apt to be uncomfortable at the presentation of Arab men as hot blooded ravishers (as Ahmed points out to the French writer Raoul St. Hubert "when an Arab sees a woman he likes, he takes her"), but as stereotypes go it is very dated: considering that these days Arabs are more likely to be caricatured as sexually puritanical terrorists, the hyper-passionate Ahmed is positively quaint. Agnes Ayres may not be the most celebrated actress of the silent era, but she's certainly adequate here and her soft, rounded look give her the vulnerability this role requires.
A must see for Valentino fans (for better or worse this was his signature role), and probably fun for other viewers too.
Ahmed's kidnapping and (possible) rape of Lady Diana are of course politically incorrect today, but going by comments I've read and heard these scenes still get a considerable number of women hot and bothered (women whom I'm sure have no problem distinguishing an on screen fantasy from the horrors of an actual assault). A modern audience, quite understandably, is also apt to be uncomfortable at the presentation of Arab men as hot blooded ravishers (as Ahmed points out to the French writer Raoul St. Hubert "when an Arab sees a woman he likes, he takes her"), but as stereotypes go it is very dated: considering that these days Arabs are more likely to be caricatured as sexually puritanical terrorists, the hyper-passionate Ahmed is positively quaint. Agnes Ayres may not be the most celebrated actress of the silent era, but she's certainly adequate here and her soft, rounded look give her the vulnerability this role requires.
A must see for Valentino fans (for better or worse this was his signature role), and probably fun for other viewers too.