Trouble in Paradise (1932) **

Love, temptation, and paradise—three things that can cause all kinds of trouble…just ask Eve.

If you asked director Ernst Lubitsch what his best film was he would answer this one. Many critics seem to agree with him—after all, he is the master of the sophisticated romantic comedy. Both Billy Wilder and Howard Hawks thought Lubitsch was a god and openly modeled their work after his. Using his “Lubitsch Touch” to the utmost, Lubitsch pushes the envelope over a cliff with sexual double entendres, witty dialogue, and sophisticated style and grace. Based on Aladar Laszlo’s play The Honest Finder, the story follows a couple of master thieves (played by Herbert Marshall and Miriam Hopkins) who try to outwit one another for the sport of it, as well as for a good chunk of change from a a beautiful businesswoman (played by Kay Francis).

The “Baron” Gaston Monescu (Marshall) and “Countess” Lily Vautier (Hopkins) first meet in Venice, where Lily pretends she’s ashamed to be seen going into his hotel room—but not ashamed enough to try to look inconspicuous. The gown that Hopkins is wearing couldn’t have been any tighter without her breaking a rib. Add the fact that it’s one of those shimmering, backless numbers and you see how one might doubt her meek manner. Anyway, as they are dining in his hotel room and enjoying a bit of sexual repartee, word gets around that there have been a number of robberies in the hotel. As each criminal tries to outwit the other, the truth dawns on Lily and she nonchalantly calls him a crook and then asks him to pass the salt. Thus, each reveals what they have stolen from the other, which serves as a strange form of foreplay for the couple and they declare their love. This scene is sleek, sexy, and sophisticated.

The story then moves to Paris, where we meet Madame Mariette Colet (Francis), the widowed owner of the Colet Perfume Company. Rich beyond compare, she pays 125,000 francs for a diamond-encrusted evening bag, Mariette is a bored and frivolous woman. Her two would-be suitors, Francois (Edward Everett Horton) and the Major (the always delightful Charles Ruggles), vie for her time and affections. Sometimes they even go on dates together, such as to the opera where Mariette has her 125,000 franc purse stolen. Guess who was in the audience that same night?

Time has not been kind to Gaston and Lily. He hit a snag in Geneva and their finances are not what they once were. As a result, the passion has dimmed a bit. When Lily reads in the newspaper about a 20,000 francs reward for the return of Mariette’s lost purse she urges Gaston to turn it in for the reward—he has bigger plans.

When Gaston goes to return the purse he saves Mariette from an angry Bolshevik and endears himself to her. Of course, now he’s Monsieur LaValle—he needs to be incognito since that nasty Geneva incident. He tells Mariette that he only accepts the reward due to the stock market crash. Unable to find her checkbook, Mariette is persuaded by Gaston to look in her wall safe. Obliviously she opens it in front of him, and he stores the combination in his thieving mind. No checkbook, but there is 100,000 francs on hand—if only we all had that problem! It would seem that Mariette isn’t used to handling such issues, but since she discharged her secretary she’s been a bit disorganized. Well, Gaston needs a job and she likes the way he tells her she has no business sense. Voila—Gaston is now her personal secretary—no references please! In short fashion he positions himself as the most powerful person in the Colet house, even more so than Madame herself.

Since Mariette is useless when it comes to business and Gaston is responsible for everything, he needs an assistant. And, so, Lily comes to Chateau Colet and works with Gaston to convince Mariette to keep 850,000 francs in her safe. Lily is no longer dressed in slinky dresses but in unflattering suits.When Mariette suggests that Lily do more of Gaston’s work and that she leave at 5 p.m. every day, Lily becomes convinced that her new boss is out to get her man. Jealous and convinced Gaston is sexually involved (or soon to be) with Mariette, Lily tries to convince Gaston to leave with what is already in the safe. When he says they need to hold out a bit longer, Lily begs him to remain a crook but not to become a “good for nothing gigolo.”

Each day after Lily goes home at 5 p.m., Mariette draws Gaston closer and closer to her. Eventually it becomes obvious that they are involved and Lily starts to become bitterly jealous. If Lily wasn’t problem enough, Gaston has to deal with Francois, one of his victims in Venice. While Francois can’t place Gaston he has a feeling they’ve met before. In addition, the chairman of Mariette’s company, Monsieur Giron (C. Aubrey Smith), is convinced Gaston is an imposter. Eventually, Francois remembers where he’s seen Gaston after snuffing a cigarette in a gondola-shaped ashtray. Somehow Gaston distracts Francois and he forgets to accuse Gaston of wrongdoing. Gaston alerts Lily to the end of the grift and books train tickets to Berlin.

The last section of this film is the best. When Gaston plans to rob the safe while Mariette attends a dinner party, Lubitsch throws in one of his best twists. With a servant awaiting orders about the car, the couple argue over whether she is to go to the party or stay. Taking control for once in her life, Mariette decides to take Gaston as her lover and even snaps her fingers at him to show how quick she can have him. Later, they both emerge from her bedroom door in plain sight of the chauffeur, who is finally told by Gaston that Madame won’t need the car. Oh, but, yes, she will, says Madame. This is priceless. Evidently, Gaston will have to wait until 11 p.m.—but he has to catch the midnight train to Berlin with Lily! He calls her and announces they won’t be leaving until the morning.

While Mariette is at the party, Giron arrives and informs Gaston that he must leave the chateau by the next morning unless he wants the police introduced to Gaston Monescu. Unfortunately for Giron, Gaston has uncovered that he’s been embezzling from the company. With this out of the way, now Gaston must deal with an angry and jealous Lily, who comes to collect her share of the take and to leave Gaston forever.

Meanwhile at the party, Francois’ memory is restored when he hears the word “doctor” and remembers who Gaston is. He informs Mariette, who returns to the chateau just as Lily is leaving. She immediately goes to Gaston’s bedroom and starts taking off her clothes and jewelry. When she goes to place her jewels in the safe Gaston attempts to distract her by telling her of Giron’s embezzlement. Eventually he reveals that he is a crook, but that he loves her, too. Distressed, Mariette returns to her own room to find Lily waiting for her. In a deft move, Lily informs Mariette that she’s the one who robbed the safe and that she is Gaston’s former lover. In one of Miriam Hopkins’ best scenes of all time (not that there are many), she first throws the money back at Mariette and then decides if Mariette can pay 125,000 francs for a handbag she can afford to pay 100,000 for Gaston—thus making him a gigolo. This makes Gaston realize he loves Lily. He bids farewell to Mariette, and she bids farewell to her pearl necklace—a willing gift to Lily.

In the final scene of the film we find the thieves in the back of a taxi cab, making their way to the train station. When Gaston searches for the necklace, Lily reveals she’s already pick-pocketed it and that she took the 125,000 handbag as well—now will he deposit the 100,000 that he took out of her purse.

The dialogue and the story are wonderful. You can’t beat a Lubitsch film when it comes to witty dialogue. He may have not written the screenplay, that marvelous piece of work belongs to Grover Jones, but he had an ear for what worked best and how and at what pace it should be delivered.

Herbert Marshall is his usual charming and suave self. If you’ve seen him in The Letter, then you are familiar with his range. As for Miriam Hopkins, she is bearable. I don’t care for her at all. There is something that always rubs me the wrong way when I watch her in a film. I suppose this is her best performance, but as I’ve already said, there’s not much to choose from. My favorite scenes in the film all have Kay Francis in them. I think she is absolutely wonderful in this role and if it were up to me, Gaston would have stayed right there in her bedroom. The idea that he’d leave her for Miriam Hopkins almost ruins the film. It sort of reminds me of how I felt at the end of Four Weddings and a Funeral. I was so mad when Hugh Grant’s Charles ended up with Andie MacDowell’s Carrie, when he should have realized the best woman for him was Kristin Scott Thomas’ Fiona. Am I the only one who feels this way about these two films?

Finally, while I like this movie, it is not my favorite Lubitsch film. I much prefer Ninotchka. Still, Trouble in Paradise is an enjoyable film that all fans of sophisticated comedy should see.

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Carmen Jones (1954) ***

In 1954 the Supreme Court and Otto Preminger took two giant leaps forward for the Civil Rights Movement. With Brown v. Board of Education, Topeka, Kansas, the Court overruled Plessy v. Ferguson (1896) which had set up Jim Crow and the mantra of “separate but equal”. Now, all public schools had to become desegregated. By producing and directing Carmen Jones, a major studio production starring African Americans, Preminger showed Hollywood and America that a film comprised mostly of a minority cast could be hugely profitable and entertaining. The fact that he decided to carry on an affair for years with his leading lady, Dorothy Dandridge, is another issue—especially when you consider he was married and she was emotionally troubled. Nonetheless, this is a film that holds major cultural and historical significance and has been preserved by the National Film Registry.

Based on Bizet’s operatic masterpiece, Carmen, this musical stars Dorothy Dandridge in an Oscar nominated performance as Carmen Jones, man-eater extraordinaire. At the start of the film we meet Cindy Lou (Olga James), a sweet girl who goes to say goodbye to her boyfriend Joe (Harry Belafonte), who is leaving for flight school. They decide to get married before he leaves, but a complication arises when Carmen Jones enters the picture. Oozing sexuality and attitude, Carmen is either wanted or detested by every man she comes into contact. One of those who detest her, mainly because she blew him off, is Sgt. Brown (Brock Peters). So when Carmen gets into a fight with a co-worker for reporting her late, Sgt. Brown cancels Joe's leave and orders him to take Carmen to the authorities in Masonville.

On the ride, Carmen makes several passes at Joe, but he rebuffs her advances. This just seems to entice Carmen more—you know the lyrics to “Dat’s Love” right?

You go for me and I'm taboo
But if you're hard to get, I'll go for you
And if I do, then you are through
my baby, that's the end of you

In an attempt to cut the trip short, Joe decides to take a dangerous road to Masonville and the jeep ends up in a river. Carmen suggests they go to her grandmother’s house and catch the train to Masonville later that evening. In a scene reminiscent of Adam and Eve, except this time a peach is substituted for an apple, Carmen lures Joe into bed by brushing mud off his pants and giving him a peach. When he awakens the next morning he finds a note saying she loves him but she’s skipped town because she doesn’t want to go to jail. So instead, Joe finds himself locked up for allowing her to escape. When Cindy Lou visits him she sees a package with a rose inside sent from Carmen and she’s had enough.

While Joe is working in the stockade, Carmen is in Louisiana working at a night club. Bored and growing impatient for Joe’s release, Carmen is tempted by flashy prizefighter Husky Miller’s (Marvin Hayes) offer to take her and her friends Frankie and Myrt (Pearl Bailey and a striking Diahann Carroll) to Chicago and to lavish diamonds and furs on her. Oddly enough, Carmen decides to wait for Joe. I suppose this is the dichotomy of Carmen—she wants to make sure she has Joe before she returns to her usual ways. Anyway, Joe walks in the door the same evening this proposition is made, but Carmen’s joy is short-lived since Joe tells her he must leave immediately for flight school. Oh, no you didn’t! Carmen can’t believe any man would leave her for flight school and flies into a rage. Just then old Sgt. Brown appears and insults Joe, and tries to leave with Carmen. Joe beats him to a pulp, but then has to flee with Carmen to Chicago to avoid going to prison for hitting a superior officer.

Wanted by the military police for desertion, Joe must hide out in a run-down rented room while Carmen can come and go as she pleases. Carmen goes to visit Frankie, who is wearing diamonds and nice clothes, at Husky's gym to borrow some money. Frankie tries to persuade Carmen to leave Joe, but she refuses. When she returns to Joe with a bag of groceries, he asks her how she got the money and they have a heated argument and Carmen leaves and goes to Husky's hotel suite. While playing cards with her friends, she draws the nine of spades. Evidently there is some sort of voodoo omen that says if you draw this card your death is imminent. As such, Carmen decides she’s going to live her last days to the hilt and takes up with Husky and a whole lot of liqueur.

Having had enough of Carmen’s wayward ways, Joe goes to the gym and orders Carmen home. When Carmen refuses to leave, Joe threatens Husky with a knife. Of course, this exposes Joe and leads the military police to start looking for him in Chicago. While Carmen helps Joe evade capture, she’s done with him. This is too much for Joe, and during one of Husky’s fights, Joe pulls Carmen into a storage closet and after she refuses to leave with him he strangles her to death with his bare hands just before the police arrive and lead him off to jail. See, that voodoo stuff ain’t no joke!

Both Belafonte and Dandridge were singers, so it might surprise some to learn that their singing was dubbed by LeVern Hutcherson and Marilynn Horne. This was done because neither Belafonte or Dandridge had the necessary voices to carry off the operatic singing. Yet, rest assured that Pearl Bailey did her own singing on "Beat Out Dat Rhythm On A Drum". All of the music is from Bizet’s original Carmen. Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the modern lyrics for the film.

Dorothy Dandridge is phenomenal as Carmen. She truly deserved her Oscar nomination—even is she didn’t do her own singing. The performance is multi-faceted in that viewers get to see her play both a sensual woman of the world as well as a woman torn by a compassionate nature towards Joe. It must have been dazzling to be the first African American woman nominated as a lead actress. It’s a shame that she had so many problems off-screen and also that she was working at a time in Hollywood when black actresses weren’t given many chances to shine. Though she did get another opportunity with Porgy and Bess, the last few years of her career and life were pretty dreary.

The music is great and the story is compelling. A truly wonderful musical that is entertaining and well-acted. In addition, the historical significance of this film is extraordinary.

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I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932) **

Get your mind out of the gutter—I’m not that type of girl!

Paul Muni plays James Allen, a returning WWI GI who finds unemployment and then is unjustly convicted of theft and sent to a southern prison to serve on a chain gang, in this classic 1932 film directed by Mervyn LeRoy. One of Warner Bros. social conscience films, and the recipient of three Academy Award nominations (Best Picture, Best Actor (Muni), and Best Sound), the film depicts the harsh world of the southern penal system in the 1920s. Based on the autobiographical story of Robert E. Burns, a man who became a fugitive from a Georgia chain gang, this is an excellent indictment of an abusive prison system.

When James Allen returns home from the Great War he wants to do more than go back to his clerk job in a shoe factory. Instead he wants to go to engineering school so he can build bridges. The problem is his mother (Louise Carter) and his reverend brother (Hale Hamilton) want him to stay at Mr. Parker’s (Reginald Barlow) shoe factory and pick up where he left off before the war. Not the arguing kind, he finds himself back at that factory, but is distracted by a bridge being built outside his office window and he decides to head north to find construction work. This sets him off on a transient existence, moving from place to place looking for work. Things become so bad that he tries to pawn his war medals to no avail; the owner already has a drawer full—a nod to the dire circumstances that war veterans faced at that time.

Eventually he finds himself back in the South and ends up meeting Pete (Preston Foster), the man who will fatefully change his life forever. When they go to a diner for hamburgers, Pete pulls a gun and orders a bewildered Allen to take the money from the till (a whopping $5). When the police arrive they kill Pete and assume Allen was his accomplice. He is convicted of armed robbery and sentenced to ten years of hard labor. Now, Allen is the member of chain gang that manually splits boulders at a rock pit. He endures blazing heat, vindictive guards, and substandard food and living conditions. When Allen makes the mistake of coming to the defense of another prisoner, he is flogged in his place. Though the actual beating takes place off-screen, LeRoy uses shadow silhouettes and agonizing screams to make his point.

After seven months of relentless work on the chain gang, Allen decides to escape. He has a fellow prisoner bend his shackles so he can slide it off his foot and he borrows $7 and the address of a former inmate from another. While taking a bathroom break in the bushes, Allen slips off his shackles and sets off for freedom. He exchanges his prison clothes for some hanging on a clothesline and uses the swamp to evade the bloodhounds. In an often imitated scene, Allen uses a hollow reed to breathe underwater while guards and digs pass by.

Allen ends up in Booneville and meets up with Barney, a former inmate who gives him a place to sleep for the night. The next day while he is waiting for a train he orders a hamburger (evidently bad luck for him) and hears that the police are looking for the escaped prisoner. In a near-miss episode, Allen finds himself scrambling onto a train as the police point in his direction but run past him for another man.

Free, Allen journeys to Chicago, where he gets a job (under an alias) at the Tri-State Engineering Company and works his way up the company ladder. He ends up boarding with a scheming landlady, Marie (Glenda Farrell), who sees a man on the rise and sets her cap for him. When Allen works his way up to a supervisor position he decides to get another place to live. This angers Marie and she reveals to Allen that she knows about his past and blackmails him into marrying her.

After years of hard work and study, Allen become a field superintendent and falls in love with Helen (Helen Vinson). Yet, he can’t get rid of Marie, who doesn’t care that he loves another woman. When he threatens her with a divorce she turns him in and he is arrested. His friends and the newspapers try to block his extradition to the South, especially after he describes how horrible the chain gang is. This causes a min-civil war between the northern and southern justice systems. Finally, Allen agrees to return to the prison for ninety days to work as a clerk, where thereafter he would be given a full pardon.

Once back in prison, Allen soon learns that this agreement won’t be kept by the Tuttle County Prison Camp. Instead, he is assigned to even harsher chain gang than before. After 90 days, his pardon hearing reveals that the state is angry with his public criticisms of their justice system and his pardon is denied but he is given the option of parole in nine months. Allen resigns himself to this nine month fate and is a model prisoner. Yet, when his case comes up again and a decision is suspended indefinitely, Allen decides he has to attempt another escape. He and another inmate escape the chain gang and steal a truck carrying dynamite, which they use to blow up a bridge to cut off the guards. It is interesting to note that LeRoy used the image of the blown up bridge to illustrate that Allen had now burned all his bridges of ever living a normal life again. A year later, we find Allen ragged and hunted. In a final meeting with Helen, he explains that they can never meet again. In one of the crueler instances of movie fate, when Helen asks him how he lives, he answers, “I steal.” All of this misery over $5! You won’t forget the image of this last scene.

This is the granddaddy of prison-break films. When you watch Cool Hand Luke, The Defiant Ones, or O Brother Where Art Thou?, you are watching films inspired by this one. It unapologetically exposed the horror of a system of forced labor in the South, which ground men down into nothing or into their graves. It angered southerners so much that it was actually banned in Georgia—where the real-life story of Robert E. Burns took place.

Paul Muni is excellent as a man who wants nothing more than to be a productive member of society. He always had the ability to encompass the true nature of all the characters he played, whether it be an escaped convict or Prime Minister Disraeli. In addition, the maliciousness of Glenda Farrell as Marie is something to watch.

A classic prison break film and one of Muni’s best performances.

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Boudu Saved From Drowning (1932) **

Are you someone who saw Down and Out in Beverly Hills back in 1986 (attired in some form of stone-washed denim or Lycra skirt) and thought it was hilarious? Yet, somehow, today if someone were to mention it you would say it was terrible and that contrary to what others might say, you never crimped your hair or made the mistake of thinking hair mousse was edible. Oh, the inescapable 80s.

Down and Out in Beverly Hills was a remake of this 1932 French black comedy directed by Jean Renoir and starring the irreverently funny Michel Simon as Boudu. Based on a play by René Fauchois, the story follows Boudu, a dirty, shaggy bum, who is saved from drowning himself in the Seine by bourgeois Parisian bookseller Edouard Lestingois (Charles Granval). The Lestingois family decides to adopt Boudu and make him a “respectable” member of society. They takes him into their home and he (and we) learn just how respectable middle-class Parisian society is!

It would seem that the respectable Edouard is a gentleman. He has a family, a business, and a maid (Séverine Lerczinska), who also happens to be his mistress. At first, his prim and proper wife (Marcelle Hainia) is disgusted by Boudu’s hygiene and poor table manners. Yet, over time she becomes strangely attracted to Boudu (after a haircut) and they have an affair. Meanwhile, Edouard can’t understand why Boudu isn’t more grateful to him for saving him and giving him a chance at respectability. Instead, what he finds is ingratitude from a man who just keeps asking him for more of everything: clothes, food, and money (as well as his wife). What’s comic about Edouard’s bewilderment is that Boudu has become just like him and, in a way, is unhappy. Another humorous turn happens when Boudu finds lottery tickets in one of the jackets Edouard gives him. When he shows them to Edouard the bookseller tells him to keep one for himself. This turns out to be a one-hundred thousand franc winner. With his newfound wealth Boudu is now respectable and marries the maid. Yet, at their wedding party something strange happens. While riding a skiff down the Seine, Boudu reaches down for a water lily and causes the skiff to overturn. While the wedding party swims to the banks, Boudu lets the current carry him away from them. He happily returns to his old, carefree life. In the end, he is saved from drowning in bourgeois respectability.

This film was not released in the United Stated until 1967, but when it got here it became an art house staple. What attracts most to this film is its biting criticism of middle class respectability. It was so scathing that it was banned in France only after a few days in release. Today it seems ridiculous that such a film could get banned, but evidently middle class Parisians couldn’t handle the truth of what they were really like.

Michel Simon is a comic genius as the unkempt Boudu. My favorite scene is when instead of spitting on the floor because he was told it was rude, he spits in a copy of Balzac's Physiology of Marriage. You need only know that the sub-title was Petty Troubles of Married Life to get the joke. Throughout the film Simon displays his adeptness at physical comedy and his perfect comic timing.

One of the things I most remember about the film is how Renoir shot the scenes at the Lestingois’ home and business. Most of the shots are very tight and the set is over-cluttered, which gives these scenes a claustrophobic feel. No doubt, Renoir was making a statement with this approach. And when you contrast the interior scenes to the exterior ones, which are airy and full-framed, you see an entirely different world.

Biting and irreverent, this is a black comedy worth watching.

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Love Me Tonight (1932) **1/2

But what about tomorrow?

Directed by Rouben Mamoulian, this 1932 romantic musical set the bar very high for subsequent musicals. Many critics cite it as one of the greatest and innovative musicals of the 1930s. Song and dialogue are cleverly woven together to tell the unlikely love story of a very frustrated Princess Jeanette (Jeanette MacDonald) and a handsome Parisian tailor named Maurice (Maurice Chevalier).

The beginning of the film is unforgettable, with a symphony of noises that captures the sounds of an awakening Paris and Chevalier singing “That’s the Song of Paree”. We learn that Maurice has just completed a job that will establish him as a first-rate tailor: 15 suits for the Viscount de Varese (Charlie Ruggles). The problem is the viscount can’t pay his bill, as he is financially dependent on his uncle the Duke (C. Aubrey Smith). While discussing his problem with his friend Emile they get on the topic of love and Maurice begins singing, “Isn’t It Romantic?” This launches one of the greatest musical numbers to grace the silver screen. Because the tune is so catchy it sticks in Emile’s head, and when he leaves the shop he starts humming it and as he does this it is picked up by a taxi driver and his composer passenger, who takes the song on a train where soldiers hear it and use it as they march in the fields, where a gypsy hears it and plays it on his violin back to his camp, where it finally carries over to the de Varese estate of Princess Jeanette, who sings it on her balcony. This song and its far-flung travels, now links Maurice and Jeanette even before they have met. The passing of the song from person to person was seamless and very cleverly done—sort of like what will later take place in Gigi.

The Princess it would seem is very unhappy and well, sexually frustrated. Just 22, she is the widow of a very old man. If she is to marry again she must find someone of equal royal rank, but this holds problems in itself, as there are only two eligible suitors: ages 85 and 12. What is an attractive widow to do?

While the Princess is busy being bored at the chateau, Maurice decides to take the Count’s 15 suits to the estate and collect payment. When he arrives at the chateau and gives his name, Maurice Courtelin, he is mistaken for a Baron Maurice Courtelin. He meets the princess and immediately falls in love with her. Not knowing he’s just a lowly tailor, the family and their guests are enamored with him and his singing of "Mimi"—so much so that they all begin singing it. The only two people who don’t quickly embrace his charms are the Princess and her would-be suitor the Count de Savignac (Charles Butterworth). One particular person who finds him irresistible is the Countess Valentine (Myrna Loy, in an outlandishly funny turn), who seems to be nymphomaniac. It was enjoyable to watch Loy as a man-hungry woman chasing after Maurice—especially when you consider Chevalier’s reputation as a ladies man.

Somehow a rumor emerges that Maurice is not a baron but a full-blooded prince traveling incognito. This changes everything and sends hope to the Princess, who now allows herself to open up to the charming Maurice. What is a love-stricken tailor to do? It’s obvious that she can’t marry a commoner…let alone a a common tailor. Will he tell her the truth? In the end all is revealed, but love conquerors all.

All together there are nine fantastically staged musical numbers by Richard Rogers and Lorenz Hart. The songs are extremely catchy. If you have seen this film, you might just be humming “Mimi” or “Isn’t It Romantic” as you read this. Both MacDonald and Chevalier are delightful singers and carry their songs off very well. Some of the lyrics are quite racy for 1932, but somehow most of them, along with the double-entendre laden dialogue, got past censors—though 15 minutes did get cut (one can only wonder how far Mamoulian actually tried to go). In addition, the supporting cast of Myrna Loy, Charles Ruggles, and C. Aubrey Smith are tremendous.

If you love musicals, you will love this movie. A thoroughly enjoyable classic.

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M (1931) **

The original title of this classic 1931 German film was Murderers Among Us. Though Hitler had not come to power yet, his little friends, the Nazis, had achieved great success in recent Reichstag elections. So, when they saw this title they naturally assumed it was about them--you would think this admission would have had a bigger effect on the German population. Anyway, they tried to derail director Fritz Lang’s production, via, not surprisingly, death threats. Though they weren’t right about many things, the Nazis and their reliance on mob mentality were essentially a key underlying theme. In the end, the name was simply changed to M. Two years later, with the Austrian madman fully in charge, Lang thought it best if he leave Germany. Unlike the Nazis, he was right.

Based on the real-life case of the Monster of Dusseldorf, Peter Kurten, this German Expressionistic film about the hunt for a child killer is Fritz Lang’s greatest talking picture. Not only was it provocative storytelling at its best, it was also one of the biggest influences on the development of film noir. Darkness, both internal and external, is at the core of this picture.

Peter Lorre plays Hans Beckert, a pathologically-driven serial killer of children. In the beginning of the film we learn that 8 children have been murdered over the past year. We see a blind man (Georg John) selling balloons and a little girl, Elsie Beckmann, taking the hand of a whistling man who buys her a balloon. A ball, the simple toy of a child, rolls down a hill and comes to a rest—and so has little Elsie. The murder takes place off-screen, but Lang uses Elsie’s balloon to show us all we need to see: now separated from her empty hand it ends up ensnared in telephone wires.

With angry parents demanding justice, the police begin to feel threatened and turn their investigation toward the seedier side of town: the criminal underworld. Seeing their activities strongly scrutinized by the police, the criminals, led by Shranker (Gustaf Grundgens), must now join in the search for the killer to ensure their own survival. Lang uses intercut scenes to show how both police and criminals plot strategies to get the killer—in essence saying there is no difference between the two groups. They decide to place those least likely to be noticed to set up surveillance: beggars. Again, Lang is making a social comment, especially when you consider what was going on in Germany at this time.

When the balloon seller hears a man whistling Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” he remembers that a man was whistling the same tune the day of Elsie Beckmann’s murder. He tips off a nearby beggar, who follows Beckert leading a girl into a candy store. After Beckert throws an orange peel on the sidewalk the beggar pretends to slip on it. Catching Beckert as he slips, he places a “M” on Beckert's shoulder, via his chalked palm. Beckert is now, literally, a marked man. In addition to this, the police have now tracked a postcard sent to the newspaper by the killer to Beckert’s apartment. When they search his room they find clues that link him to the crimes: Ariston cigarettes and a red pencil.

When the little girl he’s about to kill notices the “M” on his back and offers to wipe it off Beckert realizes he’s caught and runs into an office building. Schränker sends his men to search the building. Not knowing what is happening, a night watchman sounds the alarm. Just before the police arrive, the criminals find Beckert and leave the building—all except Franz (Friendrich Gnass), who now becomes the suspect. To save his own skin, Franz tells the police his friends have taken Beckert to an abandoned distillery to stand trial.

At his trial, Beckert attempts to explain that he can’t be held accountable for his actions because he does them unwillingly. It is an evil inside him that compels him to kill. He utters the classic line, “Who knows what it feels like to be me?" I find it especially interesting that his judges, the criminals, are wearing long leather coats instead of robes—another nod to the Nazi’s? Yet, before the criminals can inflict their brand of justice, the police arrive and take Beckert away. At his “real” trial, crying mothers await the verdict of the killer of their children and one says, “One has to keep closer watch over the children. All of you." No wiser words were ever uttered in Germany in the 1930s!

There are very few German films of the 1930s (with good reason) that capture the sense of doom that looms during this period. Lang uses lighting, specifically chiaroscuro, and high-angle shots to emphasize the evil that looms above. It is a menace that can’t be seen, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. It is foreshadowing (literally) at its best.

It is apt that Lang would use Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt to identify Beckert to his victims and the viewers. As this opera is all about identity crisis. I suppose Lang took great pride in the fact that he himself was the actual whistler of this tune, since Lorre couldn’t do it himself.

Finally, the choice of Peter Lorre, with his bulging, sad eyes and strange ability to make sympathetic (and creepy) grimaces, was a wonderful choice for Beckert. This role elevated his career, but also typecast him as the villain for years to come. He, like Lang, had to flee Germany and the Nazis.

A must-see on many levels: cinematic, societal, and historical.

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Vampyr (1932) *1/2

If only the scythe had come before I watched this!

Some critics regard this 1932 gothic horror film Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer’s greatest work and one of the greatest horror films of all time. I don’t know if I’m actually an expert, but I have to strongly disagree. I think his The Passion of Joan of Arc is truly a good film, but I hated Vampyr. The way Dryer incorporates imagery is interesting, but the story was just too all over the place for me.

Based on the Sheridan Le Fanu short story”Carmilla,” the film follows traveler David Gray (Julian West) to a a provincial village outside Pairs, where a series of supernatural murders are taking place. Thinking the villagers ignorant and superstitious, David soon learns what happens in this village is no joking matter.

A series of strange (and at times unexplainable) incidents befall David. Whilst sleeping at an inn, David is awakened by a man (whom he doesn’t know) who places a packet in his room that reads: To Be Opened upon My Death. Later, David follows shadows to an old castle where other shadows are dancing. This is where he sees a doctor (Jan Hieronimko) and an old and not so attractive woman (Henriette Gerard), who we will later learn is Marguerite Chopin, but more importantly, both are vampyrs. As he walks to a nearby manor David sees the man who left the package in his room. Suddenly, the man is shot dead and David is ushered into the manor by servants. He is invited to stay the night and he meets Gisele (Rena Mandel) and her seriously ill sister, Leone (Sybille Schmitz).

After finding Leone lying unconscious outside the house with bite wounds, David remembers the mystery package. When he opens it he finds a book about vampyrs. As he reads it he realizes Leone has been the victim of one of these demonic creatures. When it is determined by the doctor that Leone must have a blood transfusion to survive, David offers his. This drains David of all his energy and he settles down to restless sleep. He awakens suddenly, sensing danger, and goes to Leone’s room to find the doctor about to poison her and Gisele missing. David pursues him to the castle, where he has a vision of being buried alive. After this unpleasant vision ends, David rescues Gisele, but the doctor gets away.

When a servant reads in the vampyr book that the only way to kill a vampyr is to put an iron bar through its chest, he and David go to Marguerite Chopin's grave. When they open her grave they find her creepily laying there and they kill her with an iron bar. They then track the doctor to a mill and somehow suffocate him to death with flour—I guess this kills vampyrs, too? The vampyr curse is lifted and Leone is saved. And, in one of the most bizarre endings I can think of, David and Gisele somehow end up in a boat on a fog-laden river and then find themselves coming into a bright clearing. Was it all just a dream? Your guess is as good as mine.

There are no explanations to what transpires in this movie; things just happen. The imagery of the menacing scythes, eerie fog, and silhouette shadows are captivating, but that’s the only thing I found appealing. Dreyer definitely creates a very austere and sterile setting: it looks and sounds like a gothic horror movie. Yet, I was just too confounded by the strange narrative that Dreyer chose to follow. My rule about film is this: if after watching a film you ask yourself at the end, “What the hell was that?”, then it wasn’t good.

Some like, and even love, it—I did not. I most assuredly could have died without having seen it.

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