A Beginner's Guide to Silent Cinema by Jacob Dallas

In Sunset Boulevard, Billy Wilder's dark love letter to Hollywood, the fading silent film star Norma Desmond confronts the industry that has moved on without her. In a tense exchange that captures the fracture between silent cinema and the sound era, screenwriter Joe Gillis challenges her legacy: Joe Gillis: "You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big." Norma Desmond: "I am big. It's the pictures that got small." This poignant moment reflects how the invention of talkies and the phasing out of silent movies impacted those who had once been the kings and queens of Hollywood, now withering away in their mansions on Mulholland Drive.  

I remember on the first day of film school, walking the halls of the production office with a friend on our way to the rental house to check out a camera for an upcoming project. The walls were decorated with posters of aging stars from Hollywood's golden age and beyond. I smiled when I passed Marlon Brando and chuckled slightly at a photo of Orson Welles directing Macbeth. One poster stood out: a promotional photo for Buster Keaton's 1928 film (1) The Cameraman, directed by Edward Sedgwick, though Keaton reportedly directed large portions of it himself. This was the first studio movie with MGM, a decision he would later regret after previously operating independently under Joseph M. Schenck Productions. 

As I passed the Keaton poster, I chuckled and pointed, saying, "Ha, look at that." I immediately took out my phone and snapped a photo. My friend exclaimed, "Who is that?" I shook my head in disbelief and said, "Just one of the most influential filmmakers in history. Christopher Nolan steals from him." I added, "Yeah, remember that scene in Inception with the beds? Nolan stole that from Keaton." 

In that moment, it felt like the future of filmmaking might be in real danger.If this graduate student did not know silent film stars or directors, it would be a problem. It became clear to me that the reality I had grown up in was fading. With the rise of streaming services and short-form content, along with the prevalence of vertical video, the magic of silent films has been buried under the weight of social media. If younger generations have their attention spans shortened by cell phones, how are they expected to engage in silent movies that require patience, or films that challenge them and demand effort to understand? These movies were not spoon-fed to the audience.

I had a normal childhood; however, I was not raised on the usual kids' TV shows or movies. Yes, I occasionally watched SpongeBob, but when it came to movies, my dad owned a Buster Keaton DVD box set of all his films and shorts. As a film lover, he typically had one of two things on the TV: Formula One or TCM. This was perfectly fine by me. When it came to movies, he introduced me to silent film, starting with the three icons of silent comedy: Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton, and Charlie Chaplin. You can guess who I dressed up as for Halloween. 

I did watch the occasional goofy Disney Channel movie, such as Minutemen or Holes. Yet, when revisiting them. In contrast, the classics by Keaton or Chaplin, such as One Week or The Gold Rush, can be watched endlessly. This underscores just how refined the art of cinema was in the 1920s. Almost a hundred years later, it still stands the test of time, showcasing the innovation of silent filmmakers before the advent of sound, and using creative storytelling techniques through blocking and visual cues.

Which makes it even more impressive, considering they did all that without sound.

Silent movies don't need to be ornate; you either connect with them, or you don't. Broadening your horizons or putting limitations on yourself with the content you choose to watch is hard enough without the constraints placed on young cinephiles who want to be the next Chalamet or Brando. When silent films began to fade, and the first talking pictures were introduced, studio heads imagined that talkies were just a trend that would soon fade away. Looking at it from their perspective, they weren't that crazy. With the camera tied down by microphones and actors forced to stay in one place so their dialogue could be heard, it seemed almost impossible for quality camera work to exist. Visual storytelling took a back seat, and the magic of groundbreaking shots felt lost. What was achieved in (2) Wings (1927) would now seem impossible under the restraints of early sound. If made with sound technology at the time, camera movement would be limited, and sound would have to be artificially added. This transition is often portrayed satirically. In Singin' in the Rain and later in Babylon, audiences laugh at the awkwardness of early sound filmmaking and the resistance to it.

I decided to curate a list of silent movies that everyone, whether a cinephile or not, should watch to inspire respect for their influence on today's filmmaking and to ignite curiosity about silent cinema. Starting with the master of slapstick comedy, Keaton's last independent feature before signing his doomed contract with MGM was (3) Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928), which might be his most influential film. Although it was ahead of its time, it unfortunately lost money at the box office and was the last film he made for United Artists. The film's spectacular storm sequence, where buildings fly away and collapse just as Keaton is about to miss them, is a sequence Nolan would later echo in Inception. Just three years earlier, in 1925, Keaton and Chaplin were operating at the top of their game; Chaplin released (4) The Gold Rush while Keaton experimented with Technicolor for his film Seven Chances. Even earlier, in 1922, Keaton mined all the snow gags in his two-reel short The Frozen North. D.W. Around the same time, Griffith was pioneering techniques in the industry two years earlier with his film Way Down East, which likely inspired Chaplin when he titled The Gold Rush, initially known as The Big Strike, before changing it. 

As they pushed each other creatively, Keaton and Chaplin engaged in a friendly contest to see who could use the fewest title cards. Chaplin managed only 21, while Keaton got down to 23, far fewer than the average silent feature in the 1920s, which had around 240. The most title cards Keaton ever used were 56, showcasing his mastery and genius in storytelling through images alone. If you're unsure about spending a full hour watching a silent film, (5) One Week, a short film by Keaton from 1920, is the perfect two-reel introduction. Directed by Keaton and Edward F. Cline, the film follows a newly married man, Keaton, as he has a house built for him and his new wife. The construction, intended to take a week, spirals into a series of unfortunate yet hilarious events. One Week features Keaton's trademark stunts and gags, including a clever fourth-wall-breaking gag that creatively hides nudity. 

At first glance, it might seem like sound would hurt filmmakers like Chaplin, but in reality, it pushed him to become more innovative. Even as talkies dominated the silver screen, Chaplin created one of his greatest films, (6) City Lights (1931). In it, he plays a fish out of water, navigating a world of wealth and misunderstanding. He befriends an eccentric millionaire and forms a heartfelt connection with a blind flower girl, blending comedy with emotional depth.

In contrast, (7) The Kid (1921), Chaplin's first feature-length film after two-reel shorts, serves as a perfect introduction to silent cinema. It features one of the greatest child performances of all time by Jackie Coogan, who might have been the youngest Oscar winner had the awards existed at the time. Chaplin spent over a year making the film and even entertained United Artists executives during production by giving them studio tours while Coogan charmed them with dance routines.

While Chaplin and Keaton set the standard for slapstick comedy, Harold Lloyd made his mark through death-defying stunts, especially in (8) Safety Last! (1923). Remarkably, Lloyd had lost part of his hand in a 1919 accident involving a prop bomb. Still, in Safety Last!, he famously climbs a building. It becomes even more impressive knowing he wore a glove to conceal his injury. A year later, Lloyd released (9) Girl Shy (1924), a romantic comedy about a timid tailor who dreams of becoming a writer and ultimately finds love.

Silent movies, however, were not limited to comedy. Wings (1927), widely regarded as one of the greatest war films and the first Best Picture winner, features a stunning tracking shot that moves through rows of soldiers. It is a sequence that still circulates widely online today. The film also includes an early appearance by Gary Cooper. If Wings were made with the invention of sound, additional engine noises would have to be added, and impressive camera motion would be prohibited due to constraints on sound and wired microphones. In the 2022 film Babylon, this is made into a satirical comedy, much as it was many years before in Singin' in the Rain, with audiences laughing at the idea of a movie with sound. At last, Chaplin was not hurt by sound; rather, it made him a more innovative and greater filmmaker. Even as talkies dominated the silver screen, Chaplin made one of his greatest movies, City Lights (1931). City lights fish out of water, throwing the teams unfit in the world of the rich, when he befriends an atopic millionaire and confuses his life retest and a blind flower girl. 

In a different lane, Fritz Lang takes those class tensions and blows them up on a massive, futuristic scale with (10) Metropolis (1927), a science-fiction dystopia exploring class division. Nearly a century later, its themes of wealth inequality and social pressure remain strikingly relevant. As silent films evolved, they began to explore darker, more realistic themes. This shift is evident in (11) The Crowd (1928), directed by King Vidor. Often considered one of the greatest dramas ever made, it follows a man searching for success and love in New York City. The film was originally released with two endings, one hopeful and one tragic. It also features a memorable montage of Coney Island that captures both joy and isolation.

After all that existential heft and cinematic grandeur, the true quest begins: actually tracking down these films. The Criterion Channel offers collections of Chaplin and Keaton's work. Foreign silent films are even harder to access, as many were lost due to nitrate film stock, which was highly flammable and prone to deterioration. This loss is depicted in Cinema Paradiso (1988), Giuseppe Tornatore's tribute to the power of film. One lesser-known film worth seeking out is (12) For Don Carlos (1922), directed by Musidora. Set in 16th-century Spain during political turmoil, the film blends genres as it explores loyalty within the royal court. Though originally three hours long, the surviving version is just under 80 minutes. Musidora plays two roles in a story centered on mistaken identity, an idea far ahead of its time. So next time you're bored or want to kill a Sunday afternoon, or are sick of scrolling Netflix for an hour to see what looks entertaining, browse or watch one or two of the silent movies above. Maybe that moment in the hallway wasn't just a passing interaction; it felt like a warning. Not that silent film is disappearing, but that our connection to it is. These films shaped everything that came after, yet they're becoming easier to ignore. Still, they're there, waiting to be rediscovered. When you finally watch them, it’s amazing to see how much they accomplished with so few resources, and often did it better than anyone else.