Josef Von Sternberg's The Docks of New York 1928

At all times, Sternberg's cinema of illusion and delusion has transcended the personality of even his most glittering star the better to reflect his own vision.
--Andrew Sarris, The American Cinema (Dutton, 1968)

For total absorption in style, remorseless interest in sexual existence, subtle conviction of hopelessness and amorality, Sternberg now stands clear as one of the greatest directors and the first poet of underground cinema.
--David Thomson, A Biographical Dictionary of Film (William Morrow and Company, 1976)

Docks of New York was one of the finest achievements of a period when fine achievements were commonplace. Its impact has gained strength with the passage of time.  It is one of the enduring masterpieces of American cinema, a triumphant vindication for a man whose behavior suggested to so many that of an artistic charlatan.
--Kevin Brownlow, The Parade's Gone By ((Knopf, 1968)

The Docks of New York is a beautiful film, not only physically beautiful (especially for those of us who think black-and-white is lovelier than color) but in its unusually hopeful view that even the lowest in society can find someone to love and be loved by.  Bill is a stoker in a ship, already in a kind of hell, and rescues Mae from suicide when she tries to drown herself.  They impulsively get married in a dive bar and in the morning there is a subjective shot of Mae's tears as she threads a needle to mend Bill's coat, thinking that Bill will be leaving her, just as Bill's boss Andy left her friend Lou and only returned after three years. 

Sternberg's style could be called oneiric horror vacui; every shot of this dreamlike film is filled with mist, smoke, netting and fog, an environment that seems to enclose and constrict everyone.  The denizens of the smoky Sandbar seem like denizens of hell from a Bosch painting, as they are often shown in mirrors and drunkenly mock the marriage ceremony.  Bill heads back to his ship and then changes his mind, realizing that he and Mae might just possibly save themselves from the fate of Lou and Andy.

Not all of us have been lucky enough to see silent films in nitrate prints and projected at the proper speed (only MoMA has a dispensation from the fire department to show nitrate prints), but Criterion has done an excellent job of restoring Sternberg's silent films and making them available on DVD. For those who still think silent films are nothing but herky-jerky and laughable and can't get to MoMA to see them in all their exquisite perfection the Criterion disks are acceptable.  And if one finds the musical accompaniment more of a negative than a positive one can watch the films in silence (though originally they were never exhibited that way).