Criterion Challenge week seven: Master of the House (1925)
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
This week’s Criterion Challenge centers around the silent film, Master of the House (1925).
The Criterion Challenge is a yearly challenge hosted by Letterboxd users and movie fans. The challenge is put together by Letterboxd user @benvsthemovies, and the goal is to watch a different movie in the Criterion Collection to fulfill 52 weekly challenges. I am participating this year for the first time, and I previously watched Divorce Italian Style (1961) for week six’s challenge.
This week, the challenge is themed around the 1920s. Out of over 1700 films that make up the collection, I was interested to find out that only 24 films satisfy this week's criteria. Of those, 18 are American, including one of Alfred Hitchcock’s earliest works, while the remaining six come from Denmark, the UK, Germany, France, and Sweden, respectively. Given the era, the majority of these films are silent; obviously.
For this week’s challenge, I chose Master of the House (1925) by Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer. Several of Dreyer’s films are in the collection, spanning from 1925 to 1964. His work in the collection includes another option for this week, The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928), which is often listed as one of the greatest films ever made.
Master of the House (1925) tells the story of a Danish housewife, Ida (Astrid Holm), whose husband, Viktor (Johannes Meyer), is abusive and tyrannical. Ida has no means or will to leave her husband until his former nanny, played by Mathilde Nielsen, persuades her to.
Dreyer is a notoriously progressive filmmaker for his time, so it is no surprise that this film is quite a revolutionary story for the 1920s. The Danish title, “Du skal ære din hustru,” literally translates to “Thou Shalt Honour Thy Wife.”
In the end, Meyer’s character is left behind by his wife and forced to understand the true labor and suffering of housewives and mothers by doing everything himself— receiving minimal help from the nanny, who in turn orders him around. It feels like an introductory feminism masterclass movie, comparable to films like Barbie (2023) and Mr. Mom (1983). One Letterboxd review even compares it to the show Nanny 911 (2004-2007).
I have not seen many silent films in general, especially feature-length ones. Silent films primarily rely on visual storytelling, with title-card dialogue interspersed for further understanding. The cast of this movie knocks visual storytelling out of the park, specifically through Meyer, Holm, and Nielsen’s performance. Meyer’s acting is a masterclass in facial expressions, and just a displeased look from him is enough to send Holm’s character— and the audience— into a panic. Nielsen can also effectively convey what her character is thinking without any dialogue, capturing the essence of a disapproving old woman like only she can.
Another element that carries silent films is the soundtrack chosen to accompany scenes. While there were times when the piano soundtrack that went along with this film felt inconsistent, there were also moments where it enhanced the story perfectly. A moment that demonstrates this is towards the beginning of the film when Viktor first wakes up after his wife and daughter have been slaving away all morning. The soundtrack becomes more urgent and picks up in tempo to accompany the female characters’ encroaching panic.
While the beginning of this film is very interesting, the second half has some pacing issues and is dragged a little. As a viewer, it was a little frustrating to watch Ida defend her husband’s abuse with circumstance and see her longing to return to him. When she eventually returns, however, it seems he has genuinely changed for the better. While many people seem to refer to this movie as comedy or satire, I disagree. While there were some jokes and funny moments, I would not classify this film as a comedy at all; it is more of a drama. Overall, I give this film three out of five stars.