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The beauty of a silent film is that you can somewhat tell whether someone is a scoundrel or not, just by how the actors behave. That is a bit of a shame because it is somewhat limiting. It is immediately apparent in this D.W. Griffith film, and it's almost a shame. If Sanderson hadn't looked like a scoundrel from the beginning, maybe it would have been even stronger than in this case. I also dislike how Griffith delves into faith. It constantly and pretentiously takes the forefront in "The Road to the East." Yes, Griffith was obviously a believer, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be bothered by his views in this regard. It's just my nature. I don't believe in God, that's just how it is, and his promotion as a savior annoys me. The climax of the film is, of course, its ending, where outdoor shots alternate with indoor shots in a chilling pace. The film truly builds up in the fullest sense of the word here, and Griffith proves that modern techniques are not necessary for dramatic scenes, only talent, of which he had plenty. (2014.01.24)