Several virtues make this atypical Valentino vehicle a true find for silent cinema buffs, Valentino buffs, cinematography buffs, design buffs, and especially those who appreciate restoration for video. Few nitrate-era movies have enjoyed the luck of perfect original-negative preservation plus the intelligence of perfect fidelity in the video transfer. This release is at the opposite end of the spectrum from the "fractured flickers" syndrome, and is a rare indication of the technical and artistic heights gained by Hollywood's silent golden age. For "Cobra," William Cameron Menzies (fresh from Fairbanks' "Thief of Bagdad") created a family of four spacious and picturesque Mediterranean-style sets plus what may be the first art deco set in any movie--a huge and stunning nightclub set that's on screen for less than five minutes. ("Cobra" was released the same year as the Paris exposition that introduced art deco.) Unfortunately, a third of the movie is spent in other, bland sets. Cinematography ranges from intensely picturesque (undoubtedly as conceived and created by the production designer Menzies) to inept. The potentially magnificent look is undermined greatly by mediocre, sometimes awkward or apathetic, direction. Could it be that the budget was quickly consumed and shortcuts were instituted halfway through the production? For once, Valentino (in real life an Italian immigrant gigolo) plays an Italian immigrant gigolo, here named Rodrigo (strangely similar to "Rudolfo"). The character is deliciously ambiguous and has none of the cliches associated with the Valentino image. The performance is probably Valentino's most subtle, detailed and heartfelt. Because of the paralells with the real Valentino and because this was his first independent production, with deatailed and complex characterization, I think the portrayal had strong personal overtones for the actor-producer. All the more interesting because "Cobra" is almost universally dismissed by biographers and film historians as a minor, throwaway project. The narrative begins as a comedy (Rodrigo is a destitute aristocrat in Italy, is a gigolo--the world's worst gigolo) but as he finds true friendship with an American antiques dealer Jack, moves in with him in New York, and gets caught up in a golddigger's (Nita Naldi) machinations, the story ends up a grim soap opera. The confused screenplay is far more interesting in what it suggests than what it delivers. The male characters are richly non-stereotyped, but the women are, alas, either whores or madonnas to the point of a misogynistic tone throughout. The new chamber-orchestral score is appropriate and improves on some of the movie's inconsistency. For variety, I like to play some Respighi selections while viewing. Both for its weaknesses and for its remarkable, outstanding strengths, "Cobra" deserves to be highly recommended.