The Black Pirate

A silent film adventure in gala surroundings

The Hippodrome in Bo'ness is one of the most splendid venues for film in the land (let's say Empire). It is a pearl, its facade of elegant curves topped by a glowing red sign, and festooned today with a red carpet and bunting. I was also greeted by 'God Save the King' bunting, free rum and enthusiastic staff. The occasion was the closing night of the second annual Festival of Silent Cinema, capping an inspired programme shown over the weekend. The venue and the festival make such a heartening combination and I was won over instantly.

Douglas Fairbanks awaits within.

After many years of decay and dereliction following its closure in 1980, the Hippodrome has been fully restored, housing a smiling horseshoe auditorium complete with balcony and stage. It is also celebrating its centenary this year – Scotland's oldest cinema, built in the post-Edwardian, pre-Art Deco industry of 1912 Bo'ness. The brainchild of local man Louis Dickson, who produced 'topicals' and wanted to exhibit them, the building was designed by Matthew Steele.

Sadly, I missed the Festival of Silent Cinema apart from this final gala event. The evening was great fun, perfectly pitched between professional presentation and local spirit by festival director Alison Strauss and producer Shona Thomson. Speeches and presentations preceded a screening of beguiling hundred-year-old footage from the Scottish Screen Archive, depicting herring fishing at Yarmouth.

The main event was The Black Pirate, starring and produced by Douglas Fairbanks, Sr (with inventive live musical accompaniment from Jane Gardner and Hazel Morrison). This 1926 adventure was made at the height of Fairbanks' swashbuckling career, showing him off at his acrobatic and heroic best. Showing him off, in fact, in exciting two-strip Technicolor; The Black Pirate was one of the very first all-colour feature films. It was a treat to see Park Circus' restoration of this film, in its charming pinkish glow. Difficult to produce and project, Technicolor was an expensive process, and it is a measure of Fairbanks' status in 1920s Hollywood that he was able to invest so much in his film.

To swashbuckle.

He is undoubtedly the sole star of The Black Pirate. Although there is the requisite comic relief, docile romance and swarthy villainy, it all pales beside Fairbanks. He leaps fearlessly about the ship, displaying trademark athleticism which had already coursed through films such as The Mask of Zorro and The Thief of Bagdad. Cutting rigging to soar to the masthead, scaling down sails by means of his sword: these are clichés of the cinematic pirate, quoted and parodied so many times. It is refreshing to see the real deal, saving the day with grins and musculature (amusingly dressed in black shorts and little else).

Orson Welles saw in Fairbanks “a kind of charm, a kind of dash, a sort of innocent arrogance that has never been since on the screen”. I was fascinated to see this legend in action for the first time. To be able to do so in the setting of the Bo'ness Hippodrome was rather special, and an adventure.

Freedom of Speech – Speech Debelle

A successful return with a hidden edge

Following Speech Therapy was not going to be easy for Speech Debelle. That album won the Mercury Prize in 2009, but its disappointing sales led to a spat with her record label. They now seem to have made amends, and Speech's second album has arrived. She sounds confident and her music has moved forward, often offering a tougher response to the intimate jazz–hip hop of before.

Having so much fun, she's a new age thespian

The singles Studio Backpack Rap and I’m with It are marvellous; both are catchy and immediate dancing tunes. The cracking drums and synths of Studio Backpack Rap provide a driving background to Speech’s excited delivery (including a hilarious lesbian/thespian rhyme). It opens the album with a blast and is the highlight of the whole record. The four-on-the-floor beat which breaks out in the final minute is an irresistible invitation to dance, a genius coda to my new favourite song.

Meanwhile, I’m with It has an upbeat disco-soul vibe. It claps and sings, bringing a welcome breath of fresh air to an often downbeat album. But while nothing else can match it for exuberance, there is plenty to embrace among the more subdued songs. In particular, Blaze Up a Fire fascinates, with its relaxed groove and changes of gear.

It features Roots Manuva and Realism, and its call-to-arms lyrics turned out to be so prescient of the riots in England last August that Debelle released the song on the internet as the news broke. She had on her hands a perfect encapsulation of that specific time, noting in her explanation of the free release, “These young people are not aliens dropped down from outer space on Friday night.”

Following this, the sweeping strings and spacious production of Elephant in the Living Room lend a nocturnal trip hop feel to its break-up story, and X Marks the Spot is spiked with electric guitar fuzz and a dub-like beat. After the power of Studio Backpack Rap, this sound is what characterizes the first half of Freedom of Speech; the mood is low-key, but there is a hidden edge, in both music and words.

The edge is dulled by Angels Wings. Its acoustic sound is reminiscent of Debelle's debut, but lacks the skittering jazz tint which lifted that album. Here, the sound is soft but doesn't move with the emotional weight the personal words deserve. More than anything, at the climax we are admiring the drumming (which is great throughout the whole album). Coming as it does after a run of slow-burning tracks, the momentum is lost.

I'm with It notwithstanding, the second half of the album is then less engaging than the first. Despite Collapse's menacing, piano-heavy backing, Speech's rhymes come off as naive, as she takes on environmental catastrophe and the evils of oil. There are some amusing barbs (“You'd better call some Ray Mears quick, son”), but what prevails is anger without heft. The sound of Eagle Eye directly continues that of Collapse, this time sticking it to the Man. It's good, but by this time things are starting to get wearing.

But at the end, the blissed-out Sun Dog lets in a ray of light. It shuffles along, with Rhodes piano and cello rising from the mist. The quick-fire verses also give Speech a liberating chance to show off her vocal skill. The cathartic and crashing ending feels unnecessary, but it's one of the most beautiful tracks on the album, leaving us with a high.

Speech Debelle has made some great music here. Hers is a promising, maturing talent, and Freedom of Speech is an exciting album. I shall be listening closely to whatever comes next.

7.5