Brady DeHoust -- A Truly Brilliant Film

Alas, I continue my phenomenological inquiry into drama. As established in my last post, I find drama fascinating and singular among the arts for its propensity to draw one into a narrative. It is, in sum, arguably the most human of the humanities. This blog with explore the medium of silent film, rare in today’s mainstream cinema but formerly the height of dramatic performance technology. Some of the greatest and most influential films of all time were silent films, like D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation and F. W. Murnau’s Nosferatu, and such legendary acting icons as Max Schreck and Charlie Chaplin.   

In this post I’ll be treating the modern silent classic, The Piano Must Go Up, a brilliant morality tale which masterfully depicts trial, perseverance, and reward. It is a short film, around five minutes long. The elegantly simple plot centers around three blue-collar workers tasked by a domineering boss with manually transporting a brand-new piano up the winding marble steps of a country villa. For brevity’s sake and in order not to spoil the subtle and compelling details of the film, I shan’t relate the full story. Just know that consecutive failed attempts to transport the piano result in two of the laborers abandoning the third to struggle through on his own. This lone hero, though faced with a task of Herculean proportions, surmounts the challenge and ultimately reaps the reward for his dogged diligence.

There is enough subtle artistic substance in this film to fill a doctoral thesis, most of which is, I’m sure, above my qualification to dissect. From the classic soundtrack to the quasi-charicaturistic backdrop to the minute details in their exchanges which are so unique to silent film, The Piano Must Go Up is a garden ripe with intricate dramatic artistry. However, for this post I will simply relate a potential interpretation of the film as a whole from a sociopolitical lense.

In the sociopolitical interpretation, it has can be viewed as a dramatic representation of Soviet communist ideals juxtaposed against the vices inherent to capitalist ideology. In it the boss can be seen to represent the government, i.e. the Government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republicans, the steady guiding hand which acts as the executive power in organizing the labor class. The three workers are the “gentle laborers,” whose job and virtue is to execute the learned will of the governing authorities in order to forward the ends of the state: unity, fraternity, and labor. The delivery truck represents the social power structure, wherein the front seat is the place of authority, favor, and reward, and the truck bed is a place of subservience and perhaps even punishment. The two lazy workers allegorize the pitfalls of succumbing to the wiles of capitalism, as clearly demonstrated when one bends down to retrieve a coin, releasing the piano and resulting in the failure of their mission. This is an obvious allusion to the inevitably destructive results of seeking capital gain rather than the satisfaction of diligently-performed labor in unity with one’s comrades. The lone faithful worker demonstrates the true virtue of a comrade citizen in his relentless dedication to his task. His success is rewarded twofold. First, by the beautiful woman to whom he delivers the piano, the lipstick on his cheek demonstrating the Darwinian wisdom that a man who pursues virtuous labor will inevitably find success in mating, that is, evolutionary success. Secondly, he is awarded the front seat in the delivery truck, symbolizing the social recognition habitually awarded to faithful comrades. Conversely, though the lazy workers reap temporary rewards for their capitalism-fueled greed (symbolized by ice cream, a fleeting, melting treat of little substance or nutritional value), they receive no favor from the woman and conclude the film in the back of the delivery van, which some critics could speculate to symbolize the gulag, a fitting punishment for their unfaithfulness.

Thus concludes my own conjecture on this modern treasure of dramatic artistry. I highly encourage you to view the film on YouTube. Simply search “The Piano Must Go Up,” and you will find it for free as the first result, though it is titled differently in the YouTube video.