One of D.W. Griffith's most interesting Biograph short films, with one of his favorite settings being in the countryside, you won't find much cinematic melodrama from 1909 under a quarter-hour better than "The Country Doctor." There's a repurposing of the crosscutting common of last-minute-rescue pictures, of which Griffith made many, such as the same year's "The Lonely Villa," for the dramatic tension of a character's dilemma (the doctor trying to treat two young patients, one his daughter, in separate locations). Another technical innovation is the framing of the story by two panning shots, from cinematographer Billy Bitzer, at the beginning and end. The first shot is a pan right--like the meandering stream in the frame or film reel unwinding the frame--demonstrating the bucolic nature of the rather ironically named, as it turns out, "Valley of Stillwater" where the drama will proceed. A pan left resolves our intrusion on the tragedy by escorting us out of it at the end. For a short that largely takes place in two rooms (complete with Biograph logos on the walls to protect against bootlegs), these framing pans along with some idyllic rural photography of the doctor's family enjoying the outdoors early on make for a pictorially lovely early film.
There are at least a couple other historically interesting things about this one. I reviewed it because it's an early cinematic depiction of a doctor and an apparent outbreak of disease (which, although unmentioned in the picture, appears to be diphtheria). Although the doctor's dilemma in which sick child to treat is effective drama, I'm not sure his treatment matters much--seeming to consist at most of applying a wet rag to relieve fever symptoms--but, I suppose, they wouldn't necessarily know any better back then. It seems somewhat odd, too, that despite the image we may have of the early 20th century as given to more widespread contagious diseases, our pandemic of 2020 aside, there don't seem to be many films that deal with such epidemic subjects. When they do, it tends to be to give one main character an illness for dramatic purposes. But, then again, this was long before disaster movie formulas were a thing, and most silent films are lost and only a few of those that survive are available for someone like me to view them.
The other thing is the acting, which isn't bad for its time--part of the evolution of the style of Griffith players adopting a system of gestures more in line with cinematic expression than broad theatricality. Sure, the doctor goes from that goofy, happy-go-lucky face to deathly concern twice and just as abruptly as the last, but that his change in demeanor is so readily apparent at its slightest alteration on screen points to the effectiveness of the acting. Additionally, there's the "Biograph Girl" (later, "IMP Girl"), Florence Lawrence, reportedly one of America's first movie stars, in the cast as the doctor's wife. Future mega-star Mary Pickford has a bit part, too. There doesn't appear to be much of Lawrence's early work widely available anymore, at least not in as good of shape as the prints for this one, so her prominent role here is a nice opportunity. She's fine is the introductory serene moments, but there's certainly some dated arm waving and flailing about later. Even that, though, may get a pass considering the era the film was made and that her daughter is dying in the picture, and I don't think it severely detracts from what is, overall, an exemplary 1909 short, technically and dramatically.
There are at least a couple other historically interesting things about this one. I reviewed it because it's an early cinematic depiction of a doctor and an apparent outbreak of disease (which, although unmentioned in the picture, appears to be diphtheria). Although the doctor's dilemma in which sick child to treat is effective drama, I'm not sure his treatment matters much--seeming to consist at most of applying a wet rag to relieve fever symptoms--but, I suppose, they wouldn't necessarily know any better back then. It seems somewhat odd, too, that despite the image we may have of the early 20th century as given to more widespread contagious diseases, our pandemic of 2020 aside, there don't seem to be many films that deal with such epidemic subjects. When they do, it tends to be to give one main character an illness for dramatic purposes. But, then again, this was long before disaster movie formulas were a thing, and most silent films are lost and only a few of those that survive are available for someone like me to view them.
The other thing is the acting, which isn't bad for its time--part of the evolution of the style of Griffith players adopting a system of gestures more in line with cinematic expression than broad theatricality. Sure, the doctor goes from that goofy, happy-go-lucky face to deathly concern twice and just as abruptly as the last, but that his change in demeanor is so readily apparent at its slightest alteration on screen points to the effectiveness of the acting. Additionally, there's the "Biograph Girl" (later, "IMP Girl"), Florence Lawrence, reportedly one of America's first movie stars, in the cast as the doctor's wife. Future mega-star Mary Pickford has a bit part, too. There doesn't appear to be much of Lawrence's early work widely available anymore, at least not in as good of shape as the prints for this one, so her prominent role here is a nice opportunity. She's fine is the introductory serene moments, but there's certainly some dated arm waving and flailing about later. Even that, though, may get a pass considering the era the film was made and that her daughter is dying in the picture, and I don't think it severely detracts from what is, overall, an exemplary 1909 short, technically and dramatically.