In star Greta Garbo's silent films especially, I think the stories are secondary to the images. They tend to be similarly melodramatic romances about adultery and love triangles and the surrounding scandals and tragedies. This one is more of a love rectangle, with Garbo's husband and the characters played by Conrad Nagel and Lew Ayres all trying to possess her. It's a generic formula, especially for the vehicles of MGM's star Garbo. Yes, there's a mystery element, but that's none too appealing, either. There's even dinner-party and courtroom scenes, and, of course, her husband is an old rotund businessman. The title cards are gushy, and the musical score, including the love theme from Tchaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet," is unoriginal. Yet, the narrative does focus in some interesting and different ways on Garbo's image, and this is yet another lovely-looking late silent film, as Garbo's 1920s MGM productions tend to be. It's fortunate that Garbo, with her foreign accent, was the last of the studio's stars to transition to talkies--this being the last silent film of both Garbo and MGM--because they're some of the most deliberately gorgeous pictures of the era. They're far superior to the awkward early talkies concurrently being made by others.
Appropriately, "The Kiss" begins with Garbo and one of her lovers in a French art gallery; from there, the film itself is a piece of visual art. Much of that is the glossy close-ups of Garbo's face, but there's an emphasis on shots of her walking and riding away from men in this one, too. There are several overhead establishing shots, superimposed images and dolly-shot transitions. The best moving camera shot is in the assault scene, with the camera pulling back after the door closes. The gunshot and phone ringing are also a better use of sound effects than in most contemporary talkies. There are two flashback scenes of this incident as narrated, or imagined, by Garbo--one is a lie and the other, presumably, is the truth. Both are filmed differently and from different angles than the first instance. The Art Deco sets are impressive, too--mainly for Garbo's home. The abstract skyscrapers design on her bedroom wall is a standout. Additionally, there's the motif of Garbo's image: Ayres wants a photograph of her, the newspapers print her image, the courtroom artists draw it, while the overall film and machinery of MGM's star making focuses on creating it. In this case, that machinery is partly of European imported artists, including Garbo herself, the director and the writer. The transition to talkies would surrender much of such foreign talent, although, fortunately, not Garbo.
With about an hour runtime, this is a relatively-brief feature and taut. For instance, when the husband has his wife tailed, it's to establish his jealous suspicions, which are sure to foreshadow later events. And when we're shown "Chekhov's gun," expect it to be fired by the end.
