High above the streets of Paris, in the lonely bell tower of Notre Dame, Quasimodo (Lon Chaney) is hidden away and looks down with disgust and contempt toward the people of the city.  He is convinced one night by his master, Jehan (Brandon Hurst), to help him kidnap the beautiful gypsy dancer, Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller).  When the plan begins to fall apart, Jehan runs leaving Quasimodo to be intercepted by Phoebus (Norman Kerry), the captain of the guard who is similarly struck by Emeralda’s beauty.  Quasimodo, Jehan, and Phoebus soon find themselves entangled in a shifting war of allegiances as they all try to win the heart of Esmeralda in a battle that will splatter the sacred halls of Notre Dame with the blood of their sins. 

Wallace Worsley directs The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the most successful silent film in the Universal catalog which is also praised for its elaborate set design and makeup that would pivot Chaney onto the path to become one of the most influential monster actors of the time.  Already the fifth film adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel at the time of its release, the 1923 adaptation was written by Perley Poore Sheehan and Edward T. Lowe Jr.  In 2021, the classic was restored by Universal and released on home video by Kino Lorber, however, some fifteen minutes of the original cut of the film are feared to be lost so it is not the complete version that marveled audiences 100 years ago.  It is still a stunningly tragic film and a beauty to behold, coupled with a vibrant score by Nora Kroll-Rosenbaum and Laura Karpman that incorporates choral and bell elements as well as catchy and engaging themes for the various characters and locations. 

Not deterred by going over budget and eventually costing the studio $1.25 million, Universal turned the price tag of this audacious endeavor into a marketing campaign touting it across the town and trades as a “super jewel production” – sentiment which still holds true today.  The film shows Renaissance-era France from the highest parapet of the tallest bell tower to the lowest slums where Clopin (Ernest Torrence), the king of the beggars, presides over the Court of Miracles.  Simply put, the opening shot of the cathedral is nothing short of spectacular, and the film only becomes more vibrant from there.  Worsley is not content to just hook us with a wide shot – or as wide as the 4:3 ratio can allow – but quickly takes us to the top of the tower where Quasimodo is taunting the people below before making a daring descent down the face of the cathedral swinging from column to column, catching himself on the gargoyles, before lowing himself down from the shoulders of the saints. 

While the evolutions of the narrative ultimately find Quasimodo the supporting star of his own film, Worsley is smart enough – and Chaney a big enough star to demand – that the titular Hunchback be given ample time on screen as the story allows.  There are many magnificent elements in this film, but Chaney’s performance is an achievement to behold. He had a large role in the design of his character which includes a boil that forces one of his eyes closed, gnarled teeth, coarse and thick hair which covers his body, and of course a crooked spine. Below the makeup, however, he finds and highlights the humanity of the character and really makes audiences empathize with him through his plight even though our introduction to him is as a man full of malice and contempt.  Chaney portrays a wide spectrum of deep emotions from grief, betrayal, anger, and humiliation so that the few fleeting moments of compassion which he experiences, shown towards him by Esmeralda, his resulting confusion at not being treated as a monster is incredibly powerful. In an iconic scene from the film, which Kino Lorberfittingly chose as the cover for their home video release, Esmeralda offers Quasimodo some water as he is made a spectacle of in the town square, but Chaney plays the early part of this scene with such innocent confusion that it becomes heartbreaking. It is a testament to his skill as a physical performer that under all of this makeup and disguise, he still taps into something so human.

Opposite Chaney is Miller, a symbol of beauty and grace, in the role of Esmeralda. She finds herself in a tragedy of her own, the object of desire of three competing men, a position which she has not asked to be placed in or done anything to promote. This plot, set into motion by the failed, lustful actions of Jehan, plays out with such vigor, yet Miller never allows it to be the sole driving force of her performance despite the construction that finds her character pushed and pulled along by the male characters. That being said, her role seems most ill-affected by the missing footage as there is so much character and dynamic setup in this middle act that never quite feels as if it fully comes to fruition by the film’s end. She nevertheless fills the performance with such fierce independence, breaking free from her own holds to pursue what she knows is right. In this way she is a foil to Quasimodo – similarly shunned by society for her class and standing – but instead of turning to hate and scorn, she embraces compassion for all living things. It is a dynamic that is unfortunately limited by the filmmaking technology of the time as there is only so much introspection that can be delivered through intertitles, but Miller’s performance capitalizes on this theme every chance she is allowed to take control of the narrative. 

Though Worsely’s film is not able to plumb the depths of these tortured characters as much as Hugo’s novel does, it is still an epic in its own right. Synthesizing down a three-volume work into a manageable film is no easy feat, and while Worsely’s work may not have the same register in the public conscience as some other adaptations after the advent of sound, or that it may seem more like an outline of the novel when compared to Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise’s 1996 animated feature for Disney – which may also be the first introduction to the Hugo story for filmgoers of a certain age – the sheer scope of what has been put to celluloid is undeniable. With massive sets populated by equally massive casts, The Hunchback of Notre Dame deserves its place as one of the greatest and most ambitious American silent era films, right up there with the likes of Cecil B. DeMille; himself, releasing his first go at The Ten Commandments that same year for Paramount Pictures. 

Again, limited but not deterred by the technology of the time, Worsely packs every frame so that while Robert Newhard’s camera is largely still, there is always movement on the screen. We see all the humanity of Paris swirling and dancing around the square, their revelry turning to riotous jeers as they await Quasimodo’s public lashing, and when the underbelly of the city – its beggars, gypsies, and thieves – begin to revolt, the guardsmen come galloping through on their horses to restore order. Above them in the tower, Quasimodo rains down molten lead through the gutter system to ward off the guards seeking his and Esmeralda’s capture before being mortally wounded by Jehan in a thrilling sequence in which the two men are dangling from the railings. This final battle sequence is where the editing, led by Edward Curtiss, really shines through and gives the pulse of the film such a strong and propulsive beat. It is hard to believe the film is a century old. 

The Hunchback of Notre Dame has become something of a generational story, and while Hugo’s intentions to use the story as a plea to restore the crumbling cathedral may not be as strong as they are in the novel, what remains is a powerful story about the importance of kindness and the dangers of extremism which has lent itself to be transferred by various artists across the many mediums. Worsley’s film surely stunned and amazed audiences of its day and remains a beautiful work and a great entry point into silent films for curious cinephiles today. Even with its enduring modern feel, the film still has all the hallmarks that make silent films so endearing and special as it allows us to witness an art form still learning its own form including the evolution of editing technique and camerawork as well as performances that are inspired by, but not so heavily imitative of, the more vaudevillian style as was typically employed in the some of the major – and often, heavier – German expressionist titles. The restoration released by Kino Lorber is as crisp and beautiful as ever allowing greater access to all the artistry of the massive teams of set builders and decorators, costume designers, Chaney’s makeup, and the affecting performances from the cast to shine. Filmmaking, like most technology, has grown exponentially since its inception, but despite the massive advances, there is an irreplaceable feeling about the tangible nature of the earliest works. We are lucky, then, that this technology is not only being used to create new worlds for our modern titles, but that it is also able to preserve the surviving prints of these craft-defining works before they are lost to time.