The best remembered motif from the hundreds of short films D.W. Griffith directed for Biograph is the last minute rescue, a frantic race over hill and dale via automobile, railroad sidecar, or on horseback, usually to come to the aid of an imperiled young woman. Griffith was masterful at building suspense during these finales, whipping up the audience with a combination of intense performances and rapid cross-cutting. Certainly there were many Biograph shorts that were more sedate, and didn't employ last minute rescues, but nonetheless the chase climax became and remains something of a Griffith trademark, fondly recalled from such accomplished short works as The Girl and Her Trust and An Unseen Enemy.
In this film, Death's Marathon, the director experimented with the formula in a curious fashion that, by definition, makes for a less satisfying experience. (And since it's impossible to discuss this variation without giving away the ending, anyone interested in avoiding a "spoiler" should stop reading here.) In this film, the aim of the climactic race is to rescue a man who is clearly not worthy of the effort expended on his behalf. And what's more, the rescue attempt fails! This approach was a bold departure to say the least, and it's a testament to the talents of the director, cinematographer and the actors that the film comes off as well as it does.
The story concerns two men (played by Walter Miller and Henry B. Walthall) who are business partners and also rivals for the same young lady (Blanche Sweet). When each man proposes to her in turn Miller is politely rejected but Walthall is happily accepted, and a year later the wedded couple's baby is born. Soon, however, it is obvious that Dad is losing interest in his hearth and home; a title card flatly announces "The Self-Centered Husband Bored with the Monotony of Married Life." Now he is going out alone and turning away from his wife, who is visibly distraught at how her marriage has deteriorated. We learn that the husband is addicted to gambling, and that he has embezzled money from his firm to pay his debts. (Young Lionel Barrymore makes a brief appearance as the firm's backer who is unaware of any improprieties.) Having lost all the firm's money in a card game -- money that is replaced in part by his business partner, in an attempt to save the firm from ruin -- the Self-Centered Husband returns to the office to commit suicide, but first calls his wife to say goodbye. His partner, the poor fellow who was rejected by Blanche and who used his own money to cover his partner's misappropriation of funds, now races across town to save him.
So, we have to ask ourselves: why save this guy? Why bother? Presumably he could reform, repay the money he stole and turn his life around, but we're not given any evidence that he desires to do so. Instead, we watch in horror as the man sits in his office with an eerie smile on his face, waving the gun around and saying God knows what into the telephone to his traumatized wife while his frantic partner races to the office to try to stop him. And in the end, the rescue attempt is a failure: the man kills himself before he can be rescued. In the final scene the surviving partner gives the grieving widow flowers and then respectfully backs away, leaving her in solitude. She smiles faintly, and we're left with the suggestion that they might wind up together after all.
Perhaps this finale was intended to demonstrate that the jilted suitor is truly a good person, far more worthy than the loser he struggled to save. Perhaps, in that sense, the failed rescue was meant to be considered a success of sorts, a kind of test which the hero passed with flying colors by simply making the attempt. Where Griffith and his Biograph output is concerned Death's Marathon marks an unusual, daring approach to the chase finale, and the film is certainly of interest to buffs, but it's no surprise that this particular variation on the formula did not become a recurring directorial device.
In this film, Death's Marathon, the director experimented with the formula in a curious fashion that, by definition, makes for a less satisfying experience. (And since it's impossible to discuss this variation without giving away the ending, anyone interested in avoiding a "spoiler" should stop reading here.) In this film, the aim of the climactic race is to rescue a man who is clearly not worthy of the effort expended on his behalf. And what's more, the rescue attempt fails! This approach was a bold departure to say the least, and it's a testament to the talents of the director, cinematographer and the actors that the film comes off as well as it does.
The story concerns two men (played by Walter Miller and Henry B. Walthall) who are business partners and also rivals for the same young lady (Blanche Sweet). When each man proposes to her in turn Miller is politely rejected but Walthall is happily accepted, and a year later the wedded couple's baby is born. Soon, however, it is obvious that Dad is losing interest in his hearth and home; a title card flatly announces "The Self-Centered Husband Bored with the Monotony of Married Life." Now he is going out alone and turning away from his wife, who is visibly distraught at how her marriage has deteriorated. We learn that the husband is addicted to gambling, and that he has embezzled money from his firm to pay his debts. (Young Lionel Barrymore makes a brief appearance as the firm's backer who is unaware of any improprieties.) Having lost all the firm's money in a card game -- money that is replaced in part by his business partner, in an attempt to save the firm from ruin -- the Self-Centered Husband returns to the office to commit suicide, but first calls his wife to say goodbye. His partner, the poor fellow who was rejected by Blanche and who used his own money to cover his partner's misappropriation of funds, now races across town to save him.
So, we have to ask ourselves: why save this guy? Why bother? Presumably he could reform, repay the money he stole and turn his life around, but we're not given any evidence that he desires to do so. Instead, we watch in horror as the man sits in his office with an eerie smile on his face, waving the gun around and saying God knows what into the telephone to his traumatized wife while his frantic partner races to the office to try to stop him. And in the end, the rescue attempt is a failure: the man kills himself before he can be rescued. In the final scene the surviving partner gives the grieving widow flowers and then respectfully backs away, leaving her in solitude. She smiles faintly, and we're left with the suggestion that they might wind up together after all.
Perhaps this finale was intended to demonstrate that the jilted suitor is truly a good person, far more worthy than the loser he struggled to save. Perhaps, in that sense, the failed rescue was meant to be considered a success of sorts, a kind of test which the hero passed with flying colors by simply making the attempt. Where Griffith and his Biograph output is concerned Death's Marathon marks an unusual, daring approach to the chase finale, and the film is certainly of interest to buffs, but it's no surprise that this particular variation on the formula did not become a recurring directorial device.