Even before seeing this one, I'd heard that the ending sunk the film. But I'll stick up for it. Today, the sudden, self-reflexive reversal of fortune could seem too cutely postmodern, but cutely postmodern was ahead of the curve in 1924, and it all works thematically. After all, that's what the movies are best at: expressing our despair and curing our ills. One of the most beautiful accomplishments of the silent era.