“Lon Chaney Speaks”

There are but a few people instrumental to the success of early Hollywood cinema to remain as discussed, or perhaps better said, to remain as ingrained in the culture of American film as the great Lon Chaney. Known the world over as “The Man of a Thousand Faces,” his versatility as a performer in the era of silent films brought him worldwide fame and success. From his stirring portrayal of the unlucky and misunderstood Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, to his iconic visage as the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera, Chaney, both in front of and behind the camera, let his work speak for him. Eschewing the notion of celebrity, the reclusive Chaney was more interested in perfecting his craft than cultivating his fame, so much so that even today much of his life is shrouded in mystery. What Pantheon Books’ “Lon Chaney Speaks” offers to readers is a chance to finally let one of the icons of silent films finally tell his story in his own words. What surprised me most after finishing the graphic novel, is that Chaney must have little to say that I can’t already find on his Wikipedia.

Cover by Pat Dorian

Written and Illustrated by Pat Dorian

A stunning graphic debut: the life of the legendary silent-film actor Lon Chaney (the original Phantom of the Opera and Hunchback of Notre Dame), as imagined by an artist whose work recalls the style and skill of early-era New Yorker cartoonists. From the artist: “‘No one will ever love me!’ I believe it was this near-universal fear that makes Lon Chaney’s characters continue to resonate with us today. On their surface, most of them are distinctly unlikeable: they are monsters, outcasts, criminals. But through his unique magic, Chaney makes them empathetic. He pioneered the craft of makeup artist long before that term ever existed, and he used his expertise to hide himself from public view – what if nobody loved him?”

Dead at the age of forty-seven from lung cancer, Lon Chaney nevertheless left behind an extensive filmography and legacy that “Lon Chaney Speaks,” with no little amount of reverence and diligence, does a commendable job of recording. It is apparent that creator Pat Dorian has an abiding love for these early films, as several of them are recreated in this tome. So, too, do we get some first-person details on the life of Lon Chaney- from his youth and the roots of his interest in theater, to his hard luck days as a traveling vaudevillian, and up through to his struggles and eventual domination of Hollywood.

Chaney’s drive was impressive, and his skills as a makeup artist, along with his willingness to go to painful physical extremes to embody many of his roles, combined to make him one of the most sought after actors of his era. Dorian does a fantastic job of highlighting Chaney’s urge to succeed, an urge at first spurred on by necessity, and putting food on the table during the early part of his career, transforming into an urge to stay employed, and eventually the urge seemed motivated solely, and perhaps most purely, on a desire to fulfill himself artistically.

Dorian, a veteran “New Yorker” cartoonist, draws this book in a retro style reminiscent of famous illustrator and author Syd Hoff, or perhaps a more recent comparison might be to the artist Seth. With just a few bold, distinct lines, Dorian manages to bring his characters to vibrant life with a less is more approach that not only looks contemporary to the era for when the book takes place, but is also just a joy to look at. Cartoony and expressive, Dorian’s storytelling is sharp and succinct, and he rarely relies on more than just a few panels each page. This fairly minimalist approach to the book is a pleasing experience and I think a tacit acknowledgement that Dorian wants to get this book in the hands of people who have never read too many comics, or maybe none. His work is inviting to the eye, an intriguing prospect to longtime comic readers and neophytes alike.

Where Dorian clearly has difficulties is in the distillation of what is known about the man Lon Chaney into the text. This is really the crux of the matter for any biographer, I presume, and some liberties must always be taken when trying to encapsulate a life into the pages of a book and to fashion some meaning from it. It seems appropriate that when you have a person like Chaney where there is only a marginal amount of information known about the man, a writer has a greater opportunity to extrapolate, and certainly more opportunity to drive home a theme – make a life fit the author’s narrative, so to speak. Dorian doesn’t do this, instead relegating Chaney’s life to brief, anecdotal snippets that do little to help reader’s get a sense of who Chaney really was. Some of the snippets come off as ham-fisted tropes (the young Chaney getting bullied for being different, the reading of Chaney’s will that produces a somewhat shockingly cruel twist), but several of the scenes do indeed shed some light on Chaney.

In one fun scene I wish had been fleshed out a bit more we get to see Chaney entertain a bar full with lunch patrons while his son sneaks in and steals sandwiches so they can eat. In another entertaining scene, we get to see Chaney, at the height of his powers as producer and star of Hunchback, refuse to work past 5pm, effectively costing the studio thousands of more dollars to bring back all of the extras for the scene. In a great bit of solidarity, Chaney allies himself with the extras, understanding it wasn’t long ago for him he was in their shoes, and an extra day’s pay for them meant another meal on the table for them and their families. These scenes spotlighting Chaney’s character are few and far between. Real or imagined, it would have been nice to get a better idea of what Dorian thought about Chaney.

Instead, a large chunk of the second half of this graphic novel are what are essentially graphic retellings of a handful of Chaney’s films. At first this seemed like a bizarre choice to me, but considering again that this might be a book for newcomers to comics, and most likely these people are cinephiles looking for more insight into Chaney and his films, then the choice to include them becomes clearer. It also seems apparent through these retellings, highlighting Chaney’s portrayal of often monstrous men, that we come to understand that it was Chaney’s wish to play these monsters in order to empathize with them. In fact, perhaps, in order to forgive his own demons. Still, while it was fun to see Dorian’s rendering of the iconic Phantom makeup, or to read about the truly bizarre plots of some of these early silent films, most of these retellings go on for pages too long. Unnecessary filler that strays focus from its subject.

Lon Chaney’s final film was also the only movie audiences got to hear the actor speak. Released in 1930, the “all talkie” remake of The Unholy Three saw Chaney voicing several different characters and showcasing his versatility one last time. Dorian closes his book highlighting the plot of this film, a bizarre con-artist scheme involving a group of ex-carnival performers, a pet shop, and even a gorilla. It is a strange end to a book about a man who’s life was rather abruptly cut short, and while I also find it difficult tying a neat little bow on anyone’s life, summing it all up and providing closure, I had hoped for more. I had hoped for a better understanding of, maybe not what I thought about Chaney, but what Dorian thought about him. Though it’s clear Dorian loves Chaney the performer, I’m still not so sure what he thought about Chaney the man.