Madame de... (Max Ophüls, 1953)

Okay, what the hell? Is this some sort of tease, does Max Ophüls want me to give up all hope for contemporary cinema? Why doesn’t filmmakers make films like this anymore, this is as close you can get to pure cinema and still have a strong narrative intact. This is epic, visionary, beautiful, poignant, and all other words that mean some sort of euphoria. This film sums up everything Max Ophül’s cinema is about, and at the same time avoids any form of pretentiousness.

This is a story about some earrings, belonging to Madame de, given to her by her husband as a wedding present, but she doesn’t care too much for them, and decide to pawn them off. Then all goes to hell. That is as much as I am about to say about the story, but, what is important here is the brilliant progression of the story, which at the end concludes everything perfectly. This film captures life, in so many ways, that one is inclined to feel that there couldn’t be anything more beyond the film. Peoples relationship with each other, the world around them and objects is studied carefully, and the setting is perfect for this, the typical turn of the century upper-class setting that Ophüls loved so much. Lavish sets and costumes are part of this film, and they have never looked better in the beautiful black and white cinematography, damn colour! But, I’ve already talked too much about the cinematography of Ophüls, already in two reviews, so why continue the same discussion? Well, here he actually takes it to another level! The opening take is a gorgeous tracking shot, and this style continues throughout the whole film, it is so damn impressive, I have a loss of words for the excitement I feel when watching an Ophüls film.

The cast is great, particularly the actress playing Madame de and her husband are very enjoyable to watch. The relationship between the two characters is built up throughout the whole film, and setting them in the upper-class environment is at times hilarious, for example when the wife pretends she has lost her earrings, and the husband, in all his military clothing, goes around an opera looking for them, creating mass confusion. The same sardonic humour and cynicism from La Ronde returns gloriously in this film, and at times the parody and hypocrisy of the upper-class is hilarious. This criticism, though, isn’t overbearing but sharp and witty. Criticism of the upper-class too often becomes bitter and boring, while this film just has a good laugh at the lot of them. Comedy done well, something we don’t see too often. Anyway, this is Max Ophül’s best film, without a doubt. It has all the subtle gestures and visionary camerawork that has become so normal in his films, but while La Ronde was damn impressive in itself, Ophüls actually had the guts to take that further and improve his style, and it is gloriously realised in this film.

Yeah, I know I am hyping this film a lot, but it is THAT good, and deserves all the praise it can get. It is the height of Ophüls power, and one of his last films. I think he made two more films, but a large part of his work hasn’t been released on DVD, so damn if I know how good they actually are. If they are released, though, on DVD, I will definitely get them, because this director demands you explore his work. Fantastic!

Le plaisir (Max Ophüls, 1952)

So, the second of Ophüls French escapades, Le plaisir was made two years after La Ronde, and is in many ways in the same spirit, dealing with many of the same themes, although, I felt, it didn’t quite try to reach as far as La Ronde. But it is pretty much as delightful as La Ronde, and the same style works fine for a second time, hell, I could watch a hundred of these films and not get bored, Ophül’s style is impeccable.

Le plaisir follows in many ways in the footsteps of La Ronde. It has that fragmented storytelling and also the same stylistics as La Ronde. Le plaisir, though, is not connected in such a way as La Ronde, but is rather three different short films connected together. Well, the first and third are fairly short, the middle one is almost as long as a feature, so it is more like a sandwich, in a weird way. These stories are slightly less cynical than the ones from La Ronde, and are much more heartfelt, being uplifting instead of dark and sardonic. But much of the humour has been kept, and the distanced camera is still apparent. The first is about an old man who puts on a mask so he can go out to dance and party with the beautiful and sophisticated, the second is about a group of prostitutes who take a trip out to the country, and the third is about a painter. Particularly enjoyable in the second is the scenes where the brothel has been closed without warning, and all the men walk around at night without knowing what to do, now that the local “entertainment” is gone, for the night anyway, and the streets almost burst out into fighting. This story is the strongest, although the other two are really enjoyable, they are short, the first being the best of the shorter ones, and is one of the finest short films I’ve seen.

Ophüls stretches his imagination and vision even further here, and some of the camerawork is simply astonishing, particularly in the first act. The black and white, again, looks gorgeous, and the country side part of the second act are particularly beautiful, filled with peace and serenity, in contrast to the dark tones of the city. The Brechtian overtones are here again, but hey, what else do you expect from a filmmaker who worked as a director in theatre in Germany during the 1920’s? It is not as apparent here as in La Ronde, but the traces are still there, particularly the style and setting which mirrors much of the one in Brecht’s plays. Overall though, I didn’t find this as interesting or coherent as La Ronde. It was still very enjoyable, and shared many of the same strengths as La Ronde, but the fractured style didn’t work as well for me as in the previously mentioned film. Then again, you can’t really go wrong with Ophüls, and this is another testament to his incredible visual talent. The long takes are, perhaps, even more impressive here than in La Ronde, and more visionary and epic. The first act is just brilliant cinema.

Check it out, but La Ronde is better, in my opinion, and a better starting point. Well, Letter from an Unknown Woman is probably the best starting point if you want to check out Ophüls, but hell, all his films are great!

La Ronde (Max Opüls, 1950)

I’ve been very curious about the French work of Max Ophüls, after he left Hollywood. He did make some fine films in the states, particularly Letter from an Unknown Woman, but I imagined, and I was right, that he would have even more liberties with the films he made in France, outside the constraints of the censor. Criterion released three of the films Ophüls made in France, and this was the first one of those releases. And, yeah, it’s great.

The film opens with a scene that is absurdly Brechtian, narrated by the wonderful Anton Walbrook as he walks through different sets, very cinematically, and talking about the story that is about to unfold. Brechtian cinema can be both great and horrible, depending on how it is handled, and here it is extraordinary. Ophül’s use of Brechtian techniques in his American films was already apparent, but quite a bit more subtle. These techniques are clearer in La Ronde, but the way they from the start take centre-stage is great, and it doesn’t become an overburden, as it so often is inclined to. Anyway, the film doesn’t have a story of sorts, rather, let me explain this, it follows people as they sleep with each other. The film starts out with a prostitute, who sleeps with a soldier, we then follow him, he sleeps with some girl, we then follow her and so on it goes, until the last person sleeps with the prostitute from the beginning of the film. It is a nice tool the film uses to cover a lot of ground, about several different people and levels of society. Ophüls, of course, loves to explore the upper class and all its facets, and while he is quite critical of these people, he also manages to remain coldly distanced. My favourite part is some rich brat teenager who sleeps with the maid, it is actually a hilarious and sardonic scene when he tries to court her.

The more I watch these kinds of films, the more I course the fact that they invented colour film, because the crisp black and white in this looks absolutely gorgeous. Ophül’s sense of pacing and framing is spot on here, and his long takes, well, the opening scene I earlier described was just one long take, are fantastic, and he was an important inspiration for Stanley Kubrick, and it shows. But this is more than technical showings, because every shot in Ophül’s films are very significant, Letter from and Unknown Woman has so many layers, subtexts and clever camerawork it is insanely complex. I didn’t get as much time to look deeply into La Ronde, but believe me, this is even more complex, and believe me when I say that I was able to write a 2,500 word essay one just one 10-minute scene from Letter From an Unknown Woman, and with ease. So yeah, there is a lot to pick up in his films. Ophüls was one of those great German Hollywood directors who perfected his craft in Hollywood after escaping from Nazi Germany. But I believe, though all the frustration he had with the Hollywood system, that he gained a lot from it. I allowed him, or rather forced him, to make his works more subtle, apply crafty subtext, and such. As a director it brought him to maturity in many ways, although the road might have been arduous.

Great film, fantastic, I love the style, the setting, the narrative, the Brechtian techniques, and the wonderful cinematography. It is really a step further stylistically, but Ophüls avoids the traps of style, and creates a deeply profound film about life in so many ways. Style can be so many things, and is usually overexposed and overused by directors, particularly today, but Ophüls doesn’t miss his mark, and this is a masterpiece.

Faust (F.W. Murnau, 1926)

Now we’re talking! Murnau was the greatest master of the silent drama, and this is perhaps one of the finest of his films, Faust, a film that envelops so many themes, ideas, beautiful shots and actions that I am astounded he managed to stuff it all within one single film! It is like several films into one, yet the story is so idiotically simple. Along with the discovery of Pandora’s Box, I think that exploring the works of Murnau has been the most worthwhile while watching all these silent films recently.

As said, the story is simple: The devil makes a bet with an angel, or God, I’m not sure, maybe the angel was a representative of God, whatever. The bet is that he can turn Faust, a devoted Christian, into the way of the devil, kind of a version of the Book of Job. So the devil, in some absolutely awesome special effects that are way more effective than anything made today, spreads the plague in the town that Faust lives. Faust, being a doctor, is unable to help anyone from the rampant plague, until Mephisto, brilliantly played by, again, Emil Jannings, offers him the opportunity to have all the powers of the devil, and thus save the people of the city. Eventually, he agrees, and many events unfold later which I will not reveal here. The only thing I will say, and complain about, is the somewhat disappointing ending, but that is the only bad thing about the film, the rest would be useless nitpicking.

What is the most astounding about this film is its technology. The special effects are great, and aren’t there just for show, like most today, but have great emotional effects, drive the narrative forward or otherwise making the film more epic, making us realize that it is more about the big picture than just the man Faust, although it also is that. There is the inevitable thing that people will ALWAYS complain about, and that is that they believe silent films are DATED. At times I might, and have indeed, be called a film snob, but I actually, to some extent, agree with the sentiment. Some silent films just are dated, but still, the best of the pack, are not, such as Faust, or the Pabst films, or many of the comedies such as Chaplin and Keaton. The great films never date, particularly such a brilliant film as Faust, where the sheer fantasy of the special effects transcend time. What I am saying is that, many silent films are dated, but if you believe that films such as Faust is dated, excuse me for being a film snob, you are ignorant and cannot see beyond the screen. Fact.

So, there my recent stint into silent films ends, and on a high note as well. I will come back in some time, but as always, when I have seen many films of the same type, I grow tired of them, and for now I am tired of silent films. The best ones were Der Letzte Mann, Faust, and Pandora’s Box. Great films all of them, and I actually didn’t see any stinkers, so well done.

Michael (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1924)

More silent films to watch, then, and the next on my list was the German-produced Michael by the Danish director Dreyer. I had never heard of this film before, but apparently it had been “rediscovered” by the Masters of Cinema collection and was one of their earliest releases. So of course, I was interested in watching this. I wasn’t too fascinated with Dreyer’s Le passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928), excuse me, but I loved Ordet (1955) and Vampyr (1932). Incidentally, Vampyr was the first film I reviewed on this site, so good to come back to Dreyer after all this time. Anyway, Michael...

The story is about a famous and prestigious painter. One day, a young aspiring painter comes to meet him and get some sort of advice. Instead, the older painter wants to use this young man, Michael, as his new model, and he becomes a whole new inspiration. What is most interesting about this film is how, the old man is completely isolated in his world of art, except of course for Michael, who becomes his closest friend and companion. As we would expect, things don’t always stay perfect, and eventually Michael and the old artist start to fall apart, especially when the old artist starts to paint a young woman instead of Michael, who falls in love with this young woman. The core of the story is the isolation and tragedy of the aging artist, who only lives for his art. However, there is a strong sense of the aging artist having a homoerotic relationship with Michael, and all the conflicts are concerned between these two men. Much like Pabst’s films, it is a bit astounding that they explored such issues in the “old days”, but then again this wasn’t Hollywood, and it is probably more that we are not so used to such themes in old films, at least far from as much as they do today.

One of the main selling points of the film is its great cinematography, which really captures the space of where the artist lives and creates a very dark mood. The accompanying music was also helpful, although the Masters of Cinema DVD provided me with the option of two different tracks, and I only listened to one, so I can’t comment any further than that. This being said, this is not my favourite Dreyer film, hell, it’s not even my favourite silent film, by far. It is a pretty damn film in its own right and an interesting addition to the films I’ve seen by Dreyer, but, somewhere I felt it lost the plot. The theme about isolation and loneliness are interesting, but are rather thin, and I definitely felt that the film could have been shorter and more focused, a problem I often find with films. Less is more, that insipid cliché, is even truer for cinema. I am happy that I saw this, though, and for anyone interested in the works of Dreyer, definitely check this out, it is better than that OTHER overrated film of his. I you are not that interested in Dreyer, though, I would recommend any of the silent films by Murnau over this, they are mostly all fantastic films.

Pretty good silent film by the master Dreyer, but I felt somewhat cheated; there could have been more in certain areas, and less in others. Otherwise, a very enjoyable film in its own right, and worth checking out for Dreyer enthusiasts.

Tagebuch einer Verlorenen (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1929)

So, after the absolute delightful experience that was Pandora’s Box, I was quite excited to watch the other pairing up of Louise Brooks and Pabst. This was indeed quite a different movie from Pandora’s Box, and not as good either. Still, it had its strength and well worth checking out, but unlike Pandora’s Box it didn’t feel like it had the same impact as the former. It suffered somewhat from structure, and the impact wasn’t as strong, as well as the themes weren’t as interesting. Still, lets take a closer look.

The character Louise Brooks plays here is quite different from Pandora’s Box. While she there was able to seduce men, and did so with gusto, here she seduces men, but rather against her own will and wit. She is a victim of men’s lust, and in a strange way the themes from the first film are the same here, but warped somewhat. A man forces himself on her, and she becomes pregnant. Now, when the child is born, her parents want to force her to marry this guy, who is by the way an absolute bastard. Of course she refuses and is sent to some prison of sorts with other “deviant” women, her child taken away from her. Here she is monitored by some sick nun and her large bald friend who ensures peace is kept. This part was for me the most interesting part of the film, as the audience are showed some interesting actions and the nun is a great character, who tortures the women at the prison for her own warped sexual pleasure. It is fairly disturbing, and I’m surprised they got away with this in the old days. The implications are great though.

The film lacks a certain drive that Pandora’s Box certainly had. There is a lot of emotional stuff in there, but it just doesn’t tie together as well as the previous film. That said, there are some great scenes, and the film relies on these exceptional sole moments to create its power and meaning. The major problem, compared to Pandora’s Box, is the climax. The climax isn’t that strong, and falls short off the mark, much due to the structure of the film. I know I compare the film too much to Pandora’s Box, but considering the absolute perfection of that film, I feel it is reasonable. Louise Brooks, though, is still great, and the portrayal of the simple naive girl is wonderful, and she truly keeps our interest and concern. Unlike Pandora’s Box, where she was a great asset, here she is basically the saving spirit, although the film craft itself is fine, she does heighten the film to another level. That is not to say that the film is average, it isn’t. But one feels that it could have achieved more, and could have been better. It is still a damn good movie; it just doesn’t reach the cathartic heights that Pandora’s Box did.

Watch Pandora’s Box first, it is a superior movie. However, if you like it, there is not real reason why you shouldn’t watch this film. It still has a lot to offer, and stands fine on its own, and featuring Louise Brooks it is a definite sale. Still good, but falls off the mark compared to the fantastic Pandora’s Box.

Die Büsche der Pandora (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1929)

So I’ve been gone for a long while, I’ve been incredibly busy and have had too much to do, so had to push this page out of the list. I have now, though, handed in all my work for university, and have about a month with nothing to do, yay! I’ve seen quite a few films though, and I’m going to start right where I stopped, in the midst of the German silent era. The film is Pandora’s Box, directed by Pabst who had also done the Three Penny Opera, which I reviewed earlier. I was quite interested in these silent films, as they had been recommended to me by one of my professors. To say the least, I was not disappointed.

The film is staged around its illustrious star, Louise Brooks, who made her career in Hollywood, but left for Germany because of the advances of sound. She gives perhaps one of the finest female performances I’ve ever seen and in a silent film as well! This is a natural, her face looks absolutely perfect on the screen, her facial expressions are always meaningful and simple, conveying the mood and thoughts of the character in a way dialogue never can achieve. As I noted in my last review of a Pabst film, I was impressed with his style, but here it is at a pitch perfect. There is a scene, I won’t spoil it here, which is one of the most effectual I’ve ever seen in cinema. Incidentally, Louise Brooks does not feature in this scene, which makes it even more astounding how effective that scene is. Throughout the film, though, what the film relies most on is the sexual presence of Louise Brooks, who is effective at using her natural charm, and the film portrays this fantastically. Both the audience and the male characters in the film are drawn to her, as she takes centre stage. A lot of the cinematography is crafted around her, and in the process creating some of the most beautiful and alluring shots in cinema. The close ups of Louise Brooks are, as much as the narrative and beautiful story structure, the biggest selling point of the film. But it isn’t cheap, like so much of Hollywood, but rather heightens the film, most importantly because of the story and the subject matter.

Louise Brooks plays a prostitute, who can easily get whatever she wants because of her natural “talents”. But the film doesn’t portray her as a deviant; rather, she is portrayed as an innocent and somewhat naive character. The events that occur are because of her, but less because of what she specifically does and more because of the obsession the men have with her. Of course, this all leads to both horrible and hilarious incidents, and at times the Louise Brooks character is nothing more but a mere spectator. The power of the movie comes from the tragedy, of course. But the film never uses cheap tricks, and one feels that all the elements of the narrative bond together very well. This comes from the exceptional episodic structure of the film, which shows how important editing, in terms of the overall narrative, is. The progression constantly and effectively builds up the tension and themes, and when the last couple of striking scenes come up, one cannot help but be astounded by the completeness of the film and the impact is made strong by this. Indeed, the playing time of the film feels perfect, as it is not too long nor too short, which is something films frequently suffer from. Great stuff!

This is, perhaps, one of the best silent films I’ve ever seen. Everything in the craft is damn perfect, and the presence of Louise Brooks comes as a great addition to all that. The film would still have been great, but she adds so much that it is impossible to imagine the film without her. She is a natural, and she was in another German silent film directed by Pabst, great!