At the time of its release, von Stroheim’s second feature – cut by the studio to about half of its original length – was the most costly film ever made. He certainly spared no expense detailing the excesses of the faux aristocratic trio whose perverse pomposity he introduces with hilarious, non-verbal clarity. Once again, von Stroheim pits pragmatic, dull American men against their mysterious, chivalrous European counterparts, who may or may not be what they seem. At stake is the honor of their beautiful, naïve wives – in this case, a wealthy American woman who von Stroheim’s Count Karamzin stalks with psychotic fervor. He and his mistress-like “cousins” prove that the foolish want to be fooled and that the difference between the classes may consist of no more than a monocle. More resonant in light of the director’s own specious heritage and self-styled type-casting, their counterfeit games drift off into strangely beautiful excursions. Poetic, stream-of-conscious inter-titles accentuate the alluring ambiance of a dark, dangerous romanticism that – despite the deep scars of heavy censoring – startles with a strikingly moving dénouement.