The Wind (1928) is one of those artificial melodramas, and it holds up exceedingly well in some respects, and not so strongly in others.  The first time I saw it I was blown away by its sheer force, even though Lillian Gish’s brief introduction on the laserdisc I had explains how all that wind was created.  The second time I saw it, I was still impressed by its production but the story left me a bit cold.

Gish is a pretty young woman who comes to western Texas (actually filmed in the Mojave desert, California) to be with her cousin and her family, but the cousin’s wife is a jealous hag who thinks Gish is after her husband.  With no money and few prospects, Gish is forced to choose one of her local suitors.  The one she finds most appealing has a secret, while she considers the others beneath her.  What will she do?

Gish was a major star of the silent era and this may be the pinnacle of her acting career.  Her role is, however, so punctilious and naive that she has little business out there on the windy prairie.  Everyone else adjusts to the harsh conditions but they scare the stuffing out of her.  Only at the end — in an ending insisted upon by the studio — does she face nature’s fury with acceptance.

Apart from Gish’s witless character and the melodrama that swirls around her, I like everything else about The Wind.  Victor Seastrom’s (Sjöström) direction is excellent, peppering his melodrama with nicely staged special effects and the relentless, ever present wind.  Yet he also ensures that his leading men (Lars Hanson, Montagu Love, William Orlamond) exhibit strength, character, marksmanship, charm and even sensitivity.  The early scenes at Gish’s cousin’s ranch are smartly staged, especially as his wife disembowels a steer, fuming with jealousy while her children play with Gish and the things she has brought from the east — things that are soon to be forgotten.  My rating:  ☆ ☆ ☆ 1/2.  (10:3).