Rating summary

Movie		4.0
Video		4.0
Audio		4.5
Extras		3.0
Overall		4.0

The Penalty Blu-ray Movie Review

"When Satan fell from Heaven, he looked for power in Hell."

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater October 22, 2012

He's best known as the silent horror star of 1923's The Hunchback of Notre Dame and 1925's The Phantom of the Opera, but before he became a screen legend, Lon Chaney Sr.—the "Man of One-Thousand Faces"—cut his teeth in Hollywood working prolifically as a character actor for the nascent Universal Studios. After leaving Universal, one of his earliest leading parts was in 1920's The Penalty, a proto-noir thriller that has Chaney—always a special effects makeup genius—playing a double-amputee crime lord. This is a more impressive transformation than even his Hunchback and Phantom roles, as he convincingly sells the shocking illusion that he has no legs below the knee, a contortionist feat that required strapping his ankles to the back of his thighs and fitting his "stumps" into painful wooden bucket-like holsters. He ambles about effortlessly with the aid of crutches and twice reveals his ridiculous upper body strength by pulling himself up a series of pegs in order to peer through a window into an adjoining room. And yet, this is nothing compared to his emotional metamorphosis. The Penalty shows Chaney at his dark, terrifying best, as a bitter gangster with a Napoleon complex and a long-in-the-works plan for ice-cold revenge.

Lon Chaney as "Blizzard"

Based on a pulp novel by Gouverneur Morris and directed by Wallace Worsley—who collaborated with with Chaney on several films, including The Hunchback of Notre Dame—The Penalty opens with the inexperienced Dr. Ferris (Charles Clary) mistakenly amputating the legs of a young traffic accident victim. The doctor's mentor expresses horror at such a bungling amateur move—"You've mangled this poor child for life!" he says —but agrees to cover up the mishap to protect his protege's career. The boy overhears their conversation, however, and never forgets the malpractice lawsuit-worthy injustice that's been done to him.

Twenty-seven-years later, the film takes us to the mean streets of 1920s San Francisco, where the boy is now the sneering "Lord and Master of the Underworld," skulking through town on a pair of crutches. He goes by the name Blizzard (Chaney), and he's got the chilly disposition to match. One of his criminal associates, Frisco Pete (James "not that James" Mason), has recently knifed a girl to death in a dancehall—increasing the heat on their gang—and Federal Secret Service Officer Lichtenstein (Milton Ross) is looking for any reason to incriminate the untouchable Blizzard, whom he believes is "hatching something so big it endangers the city." Lichtenstein conscripts his most daring operative, Rose (Ethel Gray Terry), to go undercover in Blizzard's urban lair, warning her, "A woman who enters that den risks worse than death." The crime boss has conspicuously "gathered up dance hall girls and put them to work in his house making thousands of hats," and Lichtenstein is hoping Rose can figure out why.

Blizzard's end-game is one of the core mysteries of the film, so I wouldn't want to give it away here, but let's just say he's got a lust for, as he puts it, "the pleasures of a Nero and the powers of a Caesar." Chaney makes a masterfully compelling villain—leering lasciviously, grabbing one of his female workers by the hair, playing piano while dreaming of his grand scheme—and his Blizzard almost feels like an early version of a Batman bad guy, a retribution-driven soul so hell-bent on compensating for his physical deformity that his personality has become more grotesquely misshapen than his body. But there's also a sadness and a vulnerability to him, especially when we learn what he's gone through since his botched surgery as a child. Asked why he became a criminal, Blizzard memorably replies, "When Satan fell from heaven, he looked for power in hell."

This hell-talk isn't apropos of nothing. When the devilish-looking Blizzard spots a newspaper ad asking for a model to pose for a sculpture of Satan—and sees that the ad was posted by Barbara (Claire Adams), the artist daughter of the still-successfully-practicing Dr. Ferris—he sees his chance to finally get even. "If I could capture that expression in clay, I'd be famous," Barbara says when Blizzard visits her studio, and it really is unsettling how scrunched and rage-filled and deranged Chaney's face is, even when he's feigning politeness to get closer to the unsuspecting sculptress and her father. I wouldn't be surprised if it ever came out that Heath Ledger took some of his Joker inspiration for The Dark Knight from Chaney's maniacal turn here.

Redemption and karma are at odds in the film's last act, culminating in a sudden climax that's anything but the usual Hollywood happy ending. The potboiler of a story has its dramatic implausibilities, but The Penalty is tightly wound and genuinely tense, partly because you're never quite sure what Blizzard is going to do next, but also because the editing is uncharacteristically brisk for its time. The film's creepy too, with moody cinematography, sly visual innuendo—see how Frisco Pete's knife penetrates his coat pocket lining, or the way Blizzard's "favorite" women kneel before him to press the piano pedals while he plays—and some evocative mise-en-scene. It's Chaney that steals the show, though, as resentment personified, power-hungry and revenge-driven.

The Penalty Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Newly mastered in high definition using a 35mm print restored by the George Eastman House Motion Picture Department, Kino's 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer of The Penalty is gorgeous. Like Kino's treatment of the Buster Keaton films or other silents, there hasn't been any digital clean-up of age-related damage here—you'll still spot specks and scratches and some mild jitters—but the print is in decent condition, with no major stains or tears. As usual, Kino hasn't applied any noise reduction or edge enhancement, so the image looks naturally filmic, with a visible patina of grain. For a film of this age, clarity is often remarkable, with fine textures visible in the actors' faces and clothing—coats, especially—and lots of detail in Barbara's clay Satan sculpture. The film has been digitally tinted per the surviving original specifications, with bluish, purple, green, and sepia casts applied to the appropriate scenes and occasional sequences that are in straight black and white. Tonally, the picture looks great—neither too saturated nor too flat—and contrast is right where it needs to be, with deep but rarely crushing shadows and crisp highlights. On the encode end of things, I didn't spot any compression problems, glitches, or any other issues. As far as I can tell, this is edition of The Penalty is faithful to source and true to intent. I'd be curious to see what the film would look like with a frame-by-frame restorative speck-and-scratch removal treatment, but I'm more than happy with the "as-is" quality of this transfer.

The Penalty Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Kino's release of The Penalty features the Mont Alto Orchestra performing a score composer Rodney Sauer has compiled from historic photoplay music. The disc includes two listening options—the default lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track or an uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 stereo mix—and both sound wonderful, with rich orchestral instruments and clear piano tones. If you choose the surround mix, the music is anchored up front but panned lightly into the rear channels for a more immersive effect. The score complements the onscreen action well—it's never overpowering or distracting—and there are never any hisses, drop-outs, or other potential audio issues.

The Penalty Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Chaney's Secrets Revealed (SD, 9:33): A video tour of Chaney's actual make-up case and the "double-amputee" costume worn in The Penalty, guided by Michael F. Blake, the author of three books on Cheney.
• "By the Sun's Rays" (SD, 11:27): Cheney's one-reel western.
• The Miracle Man (SD, 2:37): The only known surviving footage of Lon Chaney's 1919 feature, The Miracle Man.
• Lon Chaney Trailers (SD): Includes trailers for The Big City (00:47) and While the City Sleeps (00:54).

The Penalty Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

He may be more famous for his "monster" roles in The Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Phantom of the Opera, but Lon Chaney's breakthrough performance in The Penalty is just as impressive and eminently more human, suffused with soul-twisting bitterness and resentment. He's simply terrifying here, backed up by a tense proto-noir story about disfigurement and revenge, redemption and the inevitable. This is the kind of silent film that might even win over impatient modern viewers with no interest in pre-1970s cinema. Kino's Blu-ray release is true to source —with a transfer sourced from a new 35mm restoration overseen by the George Eastman House—and the disc includes a few worthwhile extras too, including one of Chaney's early one-reelers. Recommended!