Anna Boleyn (1920)

I’ve been watching lots of early Ernst Lubitsch silent movies. At this stage of his career the man was a crazed visionary genius. You just never knew what he’d come up with next but you know it would be weird and exciting. Which may be why I was disappointed by Anna Boleyn (1920). I wasn’t prepared for a very conventional historical melodrama.

It starts of course with Henry VIII (Emil Jannings) becoming obsessed with his queen’s new lady-in-waiting Anne Boleyn (Henny Porten). The king is also concerned that his queen, Catherine of Aragon, has only given him a daughter and is clearly not going to have any more children. Henry feels that he absolutely must have a male heir. From the point of view of the future stability of his kingdom he is quite justified in fearing that a female heir might not be strong enough to hold on to her crown. So Henry is motivated both by lust and by reasons of state and the movie succeeds in making that clear.

English church leaders are willing to grant Henry an annulment but this is blocked by the Pope, which leads Henry to declare himself head of the Church of England. Now he can free himself of Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne. The movie takes no interest in the details of these church and political dramas - the focus is on the human dramas.

Anne already has a young man with whom she is in love. That will lead to problems. Anne produces an heir but it’s a girl. Queen Anne is accused of adultery and we all know what happened to her next.

Of course such a familiar story can only be made interesting if we get a sense of the personal motivations of these people. This movie does make some attempt to do this, and to be a character-driven historical film.

Jane Seymour is definitely cast as the villainess in this movie. She’s a ruthless schemer. She is motivated by pure ambition and has no scruples.

We never really get a totally clear sense of the King’s motivations. Obviously he’s motivated partly by reasons of state. And partly by lust. As to whether he feels any genuine love for Anne, we have to be pretty sceptical. It’s not easy to make Henry VIII a sympathetic character and this movie makes no real attempt to do so.

Anne Boleyn is of course the primary focus and she has at least some complexity. She comes across as a woman swept along by events. She knows she should resist the King’s advances (she’s in love with another man) but lacks the strength of character to do so. While the movie suggests that she is not actually unfaithful to the King she is somewhat indiscreet, and a queen cannot afford to be indiscreet. A queen must be above suspicion. She really has no idea how vulnerable a queen is to malicious accusations, or how dangerous her position could become.

Of course no-one could really have predicted Anne’s fate. Henry was now head of the Church of England. He could have divorced her for adultery. In reality Anne was under suspicion of treason, which would certainly have given the King grounds to have her executed (assuming there was any validity to the charge). The movie makes no mention of this, which is interesting. This may have been deliberate. The movie seems to intend to portray Henry as a man so corrupted by power that he will have a woman executed purely out of personal spite.

It’s also clear that the movie is intent on portraying Anne as a tragic victim (which she may or may not have been in reality). Whether the Anne Boleyn of the movie actually loves the King remains uncertain, perhaps because her feelings really are conflicted. Initially she is both horrified and flattered (mostly horrified) by his attentions but she is quite attracted by the idea of becoming queen.

I’m not much of an Emil Jannings fan but he’s perfectly cast here. One major problem is Henny Porten’s lifeless performance as Anne. No matter how hard the movie tries to make her the sympathetic heroine it’s hard to care about such a dull character. She is totally overshadowed by Aud Egede-Nissen as Jane Seymour - Jane is a bad bad girl but she’s lively and much more fun to watch.

It’s by no means a bad movie and my disappointment with it is mainly due to my hopes that we would see more of the wild imagination and visual splendour of Lubitsch’s other movies of this period. Anna Boleyn doesn’t really feel to me like a Lubitsch film. There’s no trace of the famed Lubitsch Touch.

Overall I thought Anna Boleyn fell a bit flat. It’s a by-the-numbers historical tragic romance epic and it just lacks the necessary vital spark.

This is included in several Lubitsch in Berlin boxed sets (both DVD and Blu-Ray). They’re worth buying because the other early Lubitsch movies are so fabulous. If you’re buying the boxed set anyway give Anna Boleyn a look by all means but set your expectations fairly low.

I’ve reviewed some of Lubitch’s wild crazy early movies (all of which are better than this one) - The Doll (Die Puppe, 1919), The Wildcat (1921) and Sumurun (1920).

Eyes of the Mummy (1918)

Ernst Lubitsch had been making short films in Germany for several years but Eyes of the Mummy (Die Augen der Mumie Ma) was the feature film that established him as a director to take note of. It was released in October 1918 so it was actually made during the First World War. It’s also significant in being his first movie starring Pola Negri. It gave him a taste of commercial success. Two months later he had his first major international hit, Carmen, again starring Pola Negri. Lubitsch had arrived.

It’s not that easy to classify Eyes of the Mummy. The title leads one to suspect a horror movie but the horror movie genre did not exist in 1918. At the time it would presumably have been regarded as an exotic melodrama. That’s how I’d describe it.

The next few years would see Lubitsch in wildly and intoxicatingly experimental mode. He accepted the existence of no rules. The only limits were imposed by the film-maker’s imagination and Lubitsch’s imagination at that time was boundless.

There is no actual mummy in Eyes of the Mummy but there is an ancient Egyptian tomb and there is a curse, and strange and inexplicable events have been linked to the tomb.

Two Europeans are in Egypt, separately, exploring the ruins and soaking up the exotic atmosphere. One is Prince Hohenfels (Max Laurence). The other is a painter, Albert Wendland (Harry Liedtke).

Wendland makes an amazing discovery in the tomb. There is a girl imprisoned there, and she’s very much alive. Her name is Ma (Pola Negri). That’s also the name of the Egyptian queen buried in the tomb. The girl had been kidnapped and enslaved by a scoundrel named Radu (Emil Jannings). Wendland rescues the girl and takes her back to Germany with him.

Meanwhile Prince Hohenfels has found the disconsolate Radu wandering in the desert. The Prince takes Radu back to Europe with him. This is likely to lead to trouble. Radu intends to reclaim his slave girl.

Wendland has installed Ma in his household, presumably as his mistress. They’re crazy about each other. Ma is a wild child, knowing nothing whatever of civilisation or the social rules, but she’s charming and adorable and very sexy.

Ma becomes quite a social success and gains acclaim as a dancer. A painting of her by Wendland makes her even more of a celebrity.

Unfortunately her growing celebrity also alerts Radu to the fact there she is here, in the same city. He has not given up his obsession with her. In his own perverse way he probably does truly love her.

Emil Jannings had a huge reputation as an actor in this period, something I’ve never quite understood. In this role he does certainly convey the idea of a man with a dangerous obsession.

This is however Pola Negri’s film. She was one of the great screen sex goddesses but interesting she generally did not play vamps or bad girls. Her specialty was playing wild crazy fiery passionate women. Sometimes they were a bit naughty, but in an endearing way. They were women who could drive a man crazy, but he’d enjoy it. Negri just had her own unique screen persona and it made her one of the most fascinating stars of the silent era.

The big danger here is to treat this as a horror movie, and then be disappointed that it doesn’t work as a horror movie. Lubitsch was not trying to make a horror movie. He was trying to make a romantic melodrama, and when you judge it in that light it does work. There are no overt supernatural elements but there are very subtle suggestions that influences slightly outside the range of normal experience could be at work. Ma has the same name as the long-dead Egyptian queen. Could Queen Ma be partly responsible for the hypnotic effect that the modern Ma exercises over men? Is there some vague occult connection between Ma and Radu? Perhaps.

Lubitsch was developing astonishingly quickly as a director. Within a year he would be making much more accomplished and much more ambitious movies. Eyes of the Mummy still has considerable interest as marking the beginnings of Lubitsch’s incredibly rich early German period. And Pola Negri is always worth watching. Recommended.

I’ve reviewed quite a few of these early Lubitsch films - The Oyster Princess (1919), The Doll (Die Puppe, 1919), Sumurun (1920) and the magnificent The Wildcat (1921).

The Oyster Princess (1919)

The Oyster Princess (Die Austernprinze) is a very early German Ernst Lubitsch film, described as a grotesque comedy which sums it up quite well.

If you’re only familiar with Lubitsch’s Hollywood movies his German silent movies will come as a major shock. They’re wild and crazy. Lubitsch invented his own genres as he went along. These movies obey none of the rules of conventional film-making that became established with the coming of the sound, but they don’t even obey any of the rules of silent film-making. Lubitsch just didn’t care about rules at this stage of his career. He was wildly experimental. I’d be tempted to describe the young Lubitsch as an avant-garde film-maker but that gives the impression of someone taking himself very seriously and Lubitsch wasn’t taking himself seriously at all. He was making fun movies. They were crazy, but they were fun.

The Oyster Princess is the story of Ossi (Ossi Oswalda), the daughter of American millionaire tycoon Quaker (Victor Janson). Quaker made his fortune from oysters. He’s the oyster king.

Ossi is throwing an epic tantrum. She has just heard that the daughter of America’s shoe-polish king has married a count. She now expects to marry a man at least equal to a count, preferably outranking a count. To calm her down her father promises to buy her a prince.

Quaker engages the services of renowned matchmaker Seligsohn (Max Kronert). Quaker places a firm order for a prince.

Fortunately in Europe in 1919 princes could be picked up quite inexpensively. There were plenty of noblemen who had lost their estates and fortunes in wars and revolutions. All of them would jump at the chance to marry a millionaire’s daughter.

Such a nobleman is Prince Nucki (Harry Liedtke). He is a real prince but he shares a squalid tenement apartment with his buddy Josef (Julius Falkenstein). Josef is in theory the prince’s aide-de-camp, and his only servant. Prince Nucki doesn’t have two pfennigs to rub together. What he has are debts. The marriage sounds like a fine idea.

Josef is dispatched to the Quaker mansion to meet Ossi and to make arrangements for the wedding.

Josef is certainly impressed by Quaker’s wealth. His mansion isn’t the size of a small palace, it’s the size of a large palace. Ossi doesn’t have a personal maid. She has two dozen personal maids.

The wedding doesn’t turn out quite as expected. Ossi gets married, but to whom?

This is not a bedroom farce and it’s not really a bawdy comedy. It pokes fun at millionaires and princes but it’s not really a satire. It’s certainly not a realist film but it’s not a fantasy. Everything is highly exaggerated but it doesn’t feel like surrealism.

There is romance, but this film doesn’t neatly fit the romance genre either.

It’s a bit of all those things blended into an intoxicating cocktail.

There has never been an actress quite like Ossi Oswalda. She made a series of films for Lubitsch and her performances are always bizarre and over-the-top but she’s quite different in each film. She had a knack of being bizarre and loveable at the same time. A strange actress but a fascinating one.

The Oyster Princess doesn’t have the overt and deliberate extreme artificiality or the extreme stylisation of other early Lubitsch movies, but you can sense that he’s starting to move in that direction.

Mostly it’s just crazy good-natured fun. The characters might be grotesques but they’re likeable in spite of this. Even Quaker, as crass as he is, isn’t such a bad old guy.

And I haven’t even mentioned the fox-trot epidemic yet.

This movie is included in the Lubitsch in Berlin DVD boxed set from Eureka (which has now been released on Blu-Ray as well) and it’s also available on Blu-Ray from Kino Classics. My copy is from the DVD set and the transfer is quite OK and English subtitles are provided for the title cards.

It’s best to approach The Oyster Princess with no expectations at all in mind. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Highly recommended.

The Doll (Die Puppe, 1919)

The Doll (Die Puppe) is a 1919 German silent fantasy/comedy directed and co-written by Ernst Lubitsch.

It was based on a story by the early 19th century German Romantic writer E.T.A. Hoffmann. If you haven’t read any of Hoffmann’s stories do so immediately. They’re a combination of Romantic, gothic, fantasy and weird elements and they’re exhilarating.

This is a kind of fairy tale and everything is made to look as artificial as possible - it’s like a children’s story book come to life, although it’s not really a story for children!

The Baron von Chauterelle does not want his distinguished family line to die out. His heir is his nephew Lancelot. He has decided that Lancelot must marry immediately. All the marriageable young maidens from the nearby village, forty of them in all, are instructed to present themselves at the baron’s castle so that Lancelot can pick his bride. The maidens are all desperately anxious to be chosen - marriage to Lancelot will mean wealth and a title.

There is one problem. Lancelot is terrified of women. He flees, with the maidens in hot pursuit. He takes refuge at an abbey. The monks make a big show of their poverty although in fact they live in luxury and dine in magnificent style.

The Baron von Chauterelle is devastated at the disappearance of his nephew. He makes a public offer - he will give Lancelot an immense sum of money if he marries.

The wily abbot comes up with a clever scheme. The famous dollmaker Hilarius makes lifelike life-size female dolls. The dolls are advertised as being suitable for bachelors and widowers. The dolls are operated by clockwork and can perform all kinds of lifelike action such as dancing.

Now another problem arises. Lancelot thinks these dolls are a bit too lascivious. He thinks their dancing is positively indecent. There is a solution at hand. Hilarius has just completed a new doll, made in the image of his daughter Ossi (played by Ossi Oswalda). He assures Lancelot that this doll is of good character.

Fate steps in when Hilarius’s fifteen-year-old apprentice accidentally breaks the new doll. To save the apprentice from punishment Ossi will pretend to be the doll, until the apprentice can repair the actual doll. Ossi, pretending to be the doll, is shown to Lancelot. Lancelot is so delighted that he not only immediately buys her, he decides to take her with him on the spot. He sets off for his uncle’s castle, in a carriage drawn by two horses that are clearly men in horse costumes, which adds further to the fairy tale feel.

So we have an actress named Ossi playing the part of a girl named Ossi who is masquerading as a doll which is masquerading as a real girl. That’s the sort of movie this is - everything is multiple layers of artificiality and the artificiality is all clearly on view.

Much amusement ensues for the viewer as Ossi keeps reverting to her real self when Lancelot isn’t looking and then reverts to her masquerade as a doll when he is looking.

Much of that amusement is somewhat risqué. At times very risqué. And of course interesting things are going to happen on Lancelot’s wedding night, given that he thinks that his bride is simply a mechanical doll.

Parts of the sets are simply painted backdrops. When the sun rises it’s a cartoon sun with a smiley face. Some of the humour is broad and some is sharp and witty. Grasping monks and greedy relatives (waiting for the old baron to die) come in for some rough treatment.

The apprentice is a hoot. It’s like he’s fifteen going on thirty-five, and a cynical world-weary thirty-five. The characters are not the least bit realistic and yet weirdly we believe in them. Lancelot could have come across as a fool and a milksop but somehow he manages to engage our sympathies. Ossi Oswalda gives a bravura comic performance.

This movie is a mix of cleverness and good-natured fun. It’s bizarre, but in a good way. Unlike most fairy tale moves it does not make a single concession to realism at any point. It revels in its artificiality.

I can’t think of any other movie that pushes deliberate artificiality as far as this but it works. Highly recommended.

Sumurun (1920)

Sumurun is an early (1920) Ernst Lubitsch film. He was the director and co-writer. It’s included in Eureka’s Lubitsch in Berlin boxed set.

These very early Lubitsch movies will surprise people who only know his later Hollywood work. Lubitsch’s early interest was very much in fantasy. Some of the movies in this boxed set are quite bizarre, with an exaggeratedly artificial storybook style. Sumurun is a slightly more conventional Arabian Nights-style fantasy/adventure/romance.

It was based on a six-act pantomime by Friedrich Freksa.

Sumurun (Jenny Hasselqvist) is the favourite of the old sheikh’s harem women but she’s fallen in love with a handsome merchant. The shiekh is very cross with her. He’s even considering separating her head from her shoulders.

Meanwhile a group of minstrels is on its way to the city. The troupe includes a dancer named Yannaia (Pola Negri). They encounter a famous slave trader who thinks that the spirited girl dancer would make a fine addition to the sheikh’s harem.

On arrival in the city Yannaia attracts the attention of the sheikh’s vain but good-natured son.

Lots of plot complications and romantic intrigues ensue. It’s difficult to keep up with the number of romantic triangles that intersect with each other. Romantic and sexual triangles - sex is a major driving force in this movie.

The leader of the minstrel troupe is a hunchback who nourishes an unrequited love for Yannaia. The hunchback is played by Lubitsch himself.

There are all sorts of ruses used to gain entry to the harem. The slave trader wants to sell Yannaia to the sheikh and she’s maybe not entirely averse to the idea of being a harem girl (they do live lives of fabulous luxury) although she’d prefer to share the bed of the sheikh’s son rather than that of the old sheikh.

The movie takes its title from Sumurun but Sumurun as a character is rather overshadowed by Yannaia, and although Jenny Hasselqvist is very good she’s certainly overshadowed by Pola Negri’s bravura performance. But then almost any actress would have found herself overshadowed by Pola Negri. She’s in fine sexy form here and she’s playing the seductress with every man in sight.

Paul Wegener is suitably cruel and forbidding as the old sheikh.

The tone is all over the place. At times this is tragedy, at other times cheerful bedroom farce. The tragic tone is not quite what you expect from Lubitsch, and then suddenly the movie switches to broad comedy.

This movie is perhaps less experimental than other films in this set such as The Doll and The Wildcat (Die Bergkatze). It takes place in what is obviously a totally imaginary fairy tale world but it doesn’t draw attention to its own artificiality to the same extent. Lubitsch was playing around with different approaches from one film to another, looking for just the right approach for his purposes.

It looks great. The spectacular sets are very Arabian Nights in influence but they lack the engagingly bizarre fascination of the sets in other early Lubitsch movies. It’s all done on the grand scale and looks like a great deal of money was spent on it. On the whole it was money well spent.

Sumurun doesn’t quite come off. The tonal shifts are too extreme and too sudden. But these early Lubitsch films are undeniably fascinating. He was prepared to try anything. And he tried some things that very very few directors since have dared to try. That’s enough reason for me to give Sumurun a highly recommended rating.

Eureka’s DVD transfer is tinted and this is a movie that absolutely has to be seen in a tinted print. The tinting in silent movies takes a bit of getting used to. It was a unique aesthetic of its own, totally different from either colour or black-and-white cinematography. I believe there’s now a Blu-Ray version of this set.

The Wildcat (1921)

The Wildcat (Die Bergkatze) is a 1921 Ernst Lubitsch silent comedy/romance. If you only know Lubitsch from his later Hollywood movies his early German movies will totally blow your mind. This is wild crazy stuff.

Lieutenant Alexis is an officer stationed in a large town located somewhere in a typical early Lubitsch fairy tale world. The lieutenant has been causing some disciplinary problems so as punishment he’s been sent to a remote fortress commanded by a crazy general with the most impressive moustache in movie history. It was considered necessary to remove Lieutenant Alexis from the temptations of town life.

This is devastating news for the female population of the town. When he departs hundreds and hundreds of women turn out to bid him farewell. They all have good reason to have fond remembrances of Lieutenant Alexis. Dozens of children turn out to bid farewell to him as well, waving as they say goodbye to Daddy. We now have some idea why all those women have such fond memories of Lieutenant Alexis. They are expressing their gratitude for the many services the lieutenant has performed for them. Services that he has performed cheerfully and with a great deal of diligence. He has clearly gone above and beyond the call of duty.

On his arrival at the remote fortress Lieutenant Alexis makes a favourable impression on the commanding general, who decides that the lieutenant would be a suitable husband for his daughter. The daughter is pleasant enough but Alexis is not keen on marriage.

The fortress is being menaced by a band of cut-throats and robbers. During his journey Lieutenant Alexis has already made the acquaintance of the daughter of the chief of the bandits. The young lady in question is Rischka (Pola Negri). She’s the wildcat referred to in the film’s title and wildcat is an apt description.

Rischka is wild but she is a woman and she is immediately rather smitten by the dashing woman-chasing lieutenant. She feels that he is the man she has been waiting for.

So in addition to several hundred women back in the town Lieutenant Alexis now has two women who have set their sights on him. He seems to be not unaware of Rischka’s wild charms.

Of course there is the question of whether any man can tame this female wildcat, but there’s another question. Can any woman tame the skirt-chasing lieutenant, and turn him into a one-woman man?

It’s all played for fun and there’s very much a farcical quality to the movie. It’s most definitely played for laughs. The humour is occasionally a little risqué, there are moments that approach slapstick and it’s always absurd and outrageous.

There’s a tendency to focus too much on Expressionism when discussing German movies of the silent era. The fact is that there was an extraordinary amount of visual inventiveness in these German movies and Expressionism in the strict sense was just one facet of this. Lubitsch’s early movies cannot be described as Expressionist, but there’s the same disdain for realism and the same amazing soaring feats of visual imagination.

Early Lubitsch (in movies such as The Doll as well as this one) have an uncompromising non-realist feel. They take part in a world that resembles a fairy tale world but it goes beyond this. Lubitsch’s early films are like storybooks with moving pictures and the artificiality is emphasised at every opportunity. There’s also the feel of having actually entered the artificial world of a storybook.

The sets are stunning, witty and exaggerated to an extreme degree. They look fabulous. The costumes are outrageous.

The performances are deliberately in a kind of pantomime style. These are not supposed to be real people. They’re storybook characters.

To describe Pola Negri’s performance as lively and energetic just doesn’t do her justice. She’s like a firecracker. She’s a delight.

Paul Heidemann is terrific as the vain womanising Lieutenant Alexis. He manages to make the lieutenant a loveable rogue.

Lubitsch really goes overboard with the masking of frames. Every frame seems to be a different shape. It adds to the playfulness.

There’s a battle scene between the soldiers and the robbers but of course no-one gets hurt. The worst that anyone is likely to suffer in this combat is being hit by a snowball.

This is a lighthearted candy-flavoured concoction which could easily have ended up being too sweet or too silly but its sheer exuberance carries it through.

The Eureka DVD provides a pretty decent transfer. This movie is part of their Lubitsch in Berlin boxed set (there’s now a Blu-Ray version as well). Most of the movies in this set are tinted but this one isn’t. English translations are provided for the intertitles.

These movies from so early in Lubitsch’s career have a totally unique feel. There have been plenty of fairy tale movies but none done with the same visual extravagance and style. The Wildcat is wild and crazy and very romantic. It’s a reminder of just how much visual style and flamboyance and imagination movies lost with the advent of sound. The Wildcat is highly recommended.

One Hour with You (1932)

One Hour with You is the fourth of the Ernst Lubitsch musicals included in Criterion’s Eclipse series Lubitsch Musicals DVD boxed sets. I have to say that I’ve found this set to be a very mixed bag, but One Hour with You is not too bad.

Maurice Chevalier is Dr Andre Bertier, happily married to Colette (Jeanette MacDonald). Then Colette’s old friend Mitzi (Genevieve Tobin) arrives in town and sets out to seduce Andre. Andre is determined to resist her approaches, or at least he is for a while. Then he starts to weaken. Meanwhile Colette has convinced herself that he is really having an affair with Mademoiselle Martel (Josephine Dunn). To add to the fun and games Adolph (Charles Ruggles) is desperately pursuing Colette but with a conspicuous lack of success. The poor guy doesn’t realise he’s the comic relief character who never gets the girl.

Mitzi’s husband Professor Olivier (Roland Young) is fed up with Mitzi’s alley-cat morals and just want to get rid of her at any price (and I can’t say I blame him). He’s delighted by her pursuit of Andre because it finally gives him the chance to get the evidence he needs to divorce her.

There are the usual bedroom farce complications and misunderstandings interspersed with some fairly forgettable musical numbers.

Maurice Chevalier makes frequent asides directly to the audience, which I guess was fairly daring in 1932.

One Hour with You was actually supposed to be directed by George Cukor but Cukor proved to be so inept that Lubitsch had to take over. Cukor would go on to demonstrate his  leaden touch for comedy in disasters like Holiday (1938). We can be thankful that Lubitsch took over when he did.

Of the four movies in the Lubitsch Musicals boxed set I found The Love Parade to be an absolute delight while I found Monte Carlo and The Smiling Lieutenant to be quite a chore to sit through. The big problem is Maurice Chevalier. He thinks he’s charming and irresistible but to me he’s irritating, smarmy and obnoxious and the characters he plays are   unpleasant, cruel and manipulative. Maybe women in the 1930s liked him. Maybe women still do. Maybe he’s just the sort of man that other men instinctively detest. Or perhaps it’s just me.

I’m also not entirely sold on the famous Lubitsch Touch. I know we’re supposed to admire his “European sensibility” and his allegedly sophisticated approach to immorality. I have liked a few Lubitsch movies. Trouble in Paradise is great fun, as is Ninotchka, but I’m unconvinced that Lubitsch was a genius.

I’m also increasingly bored by the whole “isn’t adultery clever and fun” thing in pre-code movies. If that’s European sophistication then I’m afraid that to me it just looks rather sad, and rather nasty. And that’s one of the problems I have with these Lubitsch musicals - there’s an underlying viciousness to them.

One Hour with You does have its diverting moments and even Maurice Chevalier is amusing at times. Jeanette MacDonald is energetic even if her character is quite unbelievable. The idea of having some of the dialogue in rhyming couplets is quite clever. Genevieve Tobin is annoying as the awful Mitzi. Roland Young and Charles Ruggles are the standout performers with Young being especially good.

One Hour with You was the last of Lubitsch’s Paramount musicals. The Astaire-Rogers musicals and the Warner Brothers musicals such as 42nd Street were just around the corner and would soon make the Lubitsch musicals look like creaky museum pieces.

The DVD transfer is very grainy, which is the case with all four movies in this set. That doesn’t usually bother me too much - a bit of grain really doesn’t hurt a black-and-white image and can even be an asset. In this case though the picture is very grainy indeed. Those who like crystal clear images will be quite disappointed by the transfers in this set, especially considering the price. There are no extras on the discs although there are mildly informative liner notes. As is so often the case with Criterion you’re paying a premium price for strictly average quality, or in this case for distinctly below average quality. This set is very poor value for money.

One Hour with You is very lightweight and intermittently entertaining. Jeanette MacDonald fans will enjoy her spirited performance. Worth a rental if you can tolerate Maurice Chevalier. 

The Smiling Lieutenant (1931)

The Smiling Lieutenant, released by Paramount in 1931, is a fairly typical example of the Ernst Lubitsch musical. It’s a delightful frothy concoction, which is all it tries to be and all it needs to be.

Maurice Chevalier is Niki, a lieutenant in the 1st Austrian Guards Regiment. As you’d expect in a Lubitsch musical he’s a ladies’ man. In fact Niki’s ideas of the duties of an officer begin and end with the pursuit of the fair sex.

Niki’s latest love is Franzi (Claudette Colbert), a violinist with an all-girl orchestra. Franzi is something special for Niki, and he certainly doesn’t intend to ruin anything so special by proposing marriage.

Niki’s life takes an unexpected turn during a state visit by the King of Flausenthurm, a tiny neighbouring principality. As the king passes in his carriage, accompanied by his daughter the Princess Anna (Miriam Hopkins), Niki (whose regiment is providing the guard of honour) makes the mistake of smiling and winking at Franzi. It it a mistake since the princess thinks he was smiling and winking at her.



A scandal erupts and Niki is hauled before the King of Flausenthurm. Niki charms the king, and he charms the princess. Soon his little indiscretion is forgotten. Niki thinks he’s had a narrow escape but he soon discovers to his horror that he is now assumed to be engaged to the Princess Anna. That’s what happens when princesses think they’ve been winked at.

Niki isn’t the marrying kind anyway and he certainly doesn’t want to marry the rather frumpish Anna. And he has no intention of giving up Franzi. Anna soon realises that her new husband isn’t the least bit interested in her. Somehow she must find a way to attract his interest and she calls on an unexpected ally.



The world Lubitsch celebrates in his musicals had already ceased to exist when he made them. It is clear that Lubitsch regards this is as something of a tragedy. The Europe of the Belle Epoque that was swept away by the First World War was in some ways the highest point European civilisation ever reached. By 1931 it was already the stuff of legend, a vanished golden age. The magic of Hollywood, and the famous Lubitsch Touch, brought that world to life again on the screen. The results are visually dazzling.

Maurice Chevalier played the same role in all the Lubitsch musicals he appeared in. It may well have been the only role he could play but it suited these musicals perfectly. Claudette Colbert makes a charming leading lady. In 1931 she was at her most vivacious, and her sexiest. The songs in this movie require no great musical talent and Colbert carries them off with ease.



Miriam Hopkins is less at ease with the musical numbers but apart from that she does well and her transformation from dowdy princess to smouldering sex kitten is impressive.

For a musical this movie is actually a bit light on musical numbers, and those that are included aren’t particularly memorable. That seems to me to be a weakness of the Lubitsch musicals - a lack of catchy tunes.

My other issue with this movie is with the character of Niki, and indeed with all the characters Maurice Chevalier played for Lubitsch. We’re supposed to see Niki as the personification of European sophistication but if sophistication means having the morals of an alley cat then I’m glad I’m not sophisticated. The bottom line is that Niki is not cheerfully naughty; he’s an utter swine with no redeeming qualities and I found myself detesting him. And he’s smarmy with it. Both Franzi and the princess would have been much better off without him.



There’s certainly plenty of pre-code immorality in this film. We’re left in no doubt about the nature of Niki’s relationship with Franzi, and we’re equally left in no doubt that his marital problems with the Princess Anna are all about sex. If that’s the sort of thing that floats your boat then you’ll enjoy this movie. Personally I’m starting to find the pre-code celebration of immorality increasingly empty and tiresome.

This is one of the four movies in Criterion’s Eclipse boxed set of Lubitsch musicals. It’s a decent transfer but there are no extras.

The Smiling Lieutenant tries very hard to be fun but Maurice Chevalier is an actor whose charm all too quickly becomes irritating. The movie is worth seeing for Claudette Colbert at her sparkling best. Recommended, but only if you can endure Maurice Chevalier.

Monte Carlo (1930)

Monte Carlo is the second of the four Ernst Lubitsch musicals included in Criterion’s Eclipse Series 8: Lubitsch Musicals boxed set. Made at Paramount in 1930 this one doesn’t quite compare to the delights of Lubitsch’s The Love Parade but it’s still highly enjoyable.

Jeanette MacDonald stars once again but this time she’s paired with Jack Buchanan.

MacDonald is the Countess Helene Mara. As the movie opens she’s just walked out on her planned wedding to Prince Otto von Liebenheim. Prince Otto is a pompous and rather ridiculous figure so we’re not entirely surprised but it does leave the countess with a problem. She is almost penniless. On a whim she heads to Monte Carlo with grandiose plans to make a killing at the casino and to convert her last 10,000 francs into a fortune.

Meanwhile she has caught the eye of the handsome, debonair but over-confident Count Rudolph Falliere (Jack Buchanan). Count Rudolph considers himself to be an expert where women are concerned but all his efforts to make the acquaintance of Countess Helene end in failure. He then strikes up a conversation with the countess’s hairdresser and this gives him a brilliant idea. He will pose as a hairdresser in order to get near the countess, who will of course then fall madly in love with him. What could go wrong?



While the countess is obviously attracted to her new hairdresser it turns out that Count Rudolph has made a miscalculation. Countesses do not fall in love with hairdressers. Not even penniless countesses. And penniless is what she now is, her plans for instant riches at the casino having failed spectacularly.

Count Rudolph presses his suit as energetically as he can but whenever it seems that the countess really has fallen for him she seems to change her mind. Of course he is not deterred and we have little doubt he will eventually succeed.



Even for a musical it’s a rather thin plot. Unfortunately there are other problems as well. While Maurice Chevalier proved to be an ideal leading man for Jeanette MacDonald in The Love Parade Jack Buchanan is unable to kindle the same chemistry with her. His performance as a whole is just not quite right for the Lubitsch style of musical. Lubitsch’s musicals do have a somewhat European feel to them and a brash American leading man who might have been perfect in a typical Hollywood musical isn’t quite what is required here.

MacDonald though is excellent and almost manages to carry the movie on her own. Which is just as well since that’s pretty much what she has to do. She does get some good support from Zasu Pitts as her maid. Claud Allister provides most of the movie’s laughs as the absurd Prince Otto.



The music compares rather unfavourably with The Love Parade although Blue Horizon is a great song and the telephone duet between Countess Helene and Rudolph is a clever idea executed extremely well.

The opening scene in the rain is the best in the movie with Lubitsch wittily demonstrating his magic. The spinning umbrellas are a lovely touch.

Since most of the action takes place in the countess’s hotel rooms we don’t get to see much in the way of lavish sets and Lubitsch is not given the opportunity to stage any big production numbers (and I think all musicals need at least one big production number).



At 90 minutes this movie does drag a little at times. The plot is too thin to keep us interested. That shouldn’t matter in a musical but the best musical moments in this movie come early on and the later songs aren’t memorable enough to compensate for the threadbare plot.

The DVD transfer is not exceptional but it’s mostly acceptable although it’s very grainy at times. There are no extras.

My advice would be not to watch Monte Carlo directly after watching The Love Parade. Comparisons are inevitable and they’re all in the favour of The Love Parade. Having said that Monte Carlo is still enjoyable enough.

The Love Parade (1929)

The Love Parade is one of four movies included in Criterion’s Eclipse Series boxed set of Ernst Lubitsch musicals. Made in 1929 for Paramount, The Love Parade is the earliest of the four. And it’s sheer delight.

The tiny central European kingdom of Sylvania is ruled by Queen Louise (Jeanette MacDonald). The queen is unmarried, a situation that has caused considerable concern to her councillors. Many suitors have been put forward, but all have been rejected by the queen.

Count Alfred Renard (Maurice Chevalier) is attached to the embassy of Sylvania in Paris. The count has acclimatised himself rather too well to life in Paris. He has been at the centre of a series of scandalous affairs, all of them involving beautiful young ladies. Now Count Alfred has been recalled to Sylvania in disgrace. He has been ordered to report to the queen in person to await her decision on a suitable punishment. The queen ultimately decides that his punishment will be to be constantly by her side. It is obvious that he has won Queen Louise’s heart and that he is equally smitten.



It is not long before their marriage is announced. Count Alfred will be the Prince Consort. He soon discovers that this impressive-sounding title is in fact attached to a position that requires him to do nothing at all apart from being the queen’s faithful husband. Inevitably he finds himself bored by his lack of meaningful duties and irked by the fact that he has no powers at all, not even over his wife. The marriage proves to be less than successful.

Meanwhile Count Alfred’s faithful servant Jacques (Lupino Lane) has been courting Lulu (Lillian Roth). Jacques discovers that life as a commoner is far less complicated than the lives of queens and prince consorts, a discovery that Count Alfred is also making.

The fact that Queen Louise and her Prince Consort are drifting apart causes great consternation among the queen’s numerous band of councillors. But can the royal marriage be saved? Since this is a musical there are no prizes for guessing the answer.



While this is certainly a musical Lubitsch is also able to make it a delightful and witty marital comedy.

The music is rather different from that featured in most Hollywood musicals of the period (being much less jazz-influenced than was usual), and indeed the structure of the movie is rather different as well. This is more of an operetta  than a standard musical. The music is however is just as appealing and just as wonderful as everything else in this movie. Dream Lover and My Love Parade are terrific songs.



I had no idea that Maurice Chevalier had once been young. But young he certainly is. He turns the charm up to full volume, to an extent that could easily have become irritating but fortunately isn’t. This is the movie that made Jeanette MacDonald a star and it’s not difficult to see why. She’s a great singer and as an actress she’s sexy, playful and utterly enchanting. Chevalier and MacDonald have perfect chemistry.

Lupino Lane and Lillian Roth provide the comic relief, and thankfully they don’t overdo it. They work superbly together and they are genuinely funny. That’s not to say that Chevalier and MacDonald don’t get plenty of opportunities to be amusing - they do and a fine job they make of it.



Picture quality on this disc is very disappointing. Anyone who thinks that because it is from Criterion they’re going to get an immaculately restored pristine print will have their hopes dashed. The picture is very grainy and flickery and there is considerable print damage. It’s better than Alpha Video quality but not much better. The source print was undoubtedly in very poor condition and sadly this is probably going to be the best transfer we’re ever going to get.

Luckily The Love Parade is such a gloriously frothy and delightful confection that you will soon find yourself not noticing the imperfections of the print. This is one of the most delectable musicals I’ve ever seen. It’s an absolute must-watch for fans of musicals or for fans of Lubitsch. This is the famed Lubitsch Touch at its best. Highly recommended.