Die Liebesfalle

A real surprise and a delight, that is, if you enjoy the Cinderella stories of the 1920s. I always do, so long as they are nicely played, and THE LOVE TRAP has enough distinction to recommend it very highly. Charming and entertaining as a fluid silent, there are many marvelous visual touches, particularly the choreography involving synchronized taxi cabs. Unexpectedly, THE LOVE TRAP retains this graceful pace when the picture begins talking at about the half-way point. The second half is so engaging one really does forget that the first half was such a terrific silent picture. Star Laura La Plante is her wonderful, pert, pretty self, effortlessly carrying the silent style with a seemless transition into the heroine speaking the rest of her role. Of particular note and enjoyment is the handsome leading man, the future Commissioner Gordon on TV's BATMAN, Neil Hamilton. Though called upon to behave like a first rate schmoo at one point during the plot, Hamilton is a first rate smooth comedian, both silent and talking. For being a relatively innocuous "Cinderella" tale, THE LOVE TRAP packs in some fun little moments of sexual intrigue, such as when the snootie sister, Rita La Roy, tells the family she cannot be bothered with La Plante's sordid situation, and as the family leaves, she climbs the stairs, soon followed by a slyly winking butler.

Most of the movie is silent, with titles; just music on the sound track; and an acting style typical of later silents. At the climax, the actors start talking, though the sound track is mostly silent otherwise.

The story is pleasant, but has been retold several times, so it will seem familiar if you've seen many 1930's pictures. Acting, sets and costumes are OK.

Pleasant concoction is a story as old as the hills of a family of snobs thinking the true blue girl their son marries on a whim is a no good gold-digger until proved wrong. A bit of an odd viewing experience since half way through the film it switches from silent to sound but Wyler's sure handed direction keeps it from being too jarring. It is interesting how in the silent portion the tone is set by shadows and the mood of a scene but after the dialog becomes the agent of explanation. It must have been a disconcerting balancing act for the actors involved but they handle it pretty well. Laura La Plante is enjoyable in the lead, a big star in silents who did make a successful transition to sound but moved to England shortly after this made a few films there and retired.

"The Love Trap" is a charming early William Wyler comedy that stands out for a very special reason. About two-thirds through, it suddenly transitions from a silent to a talkie! I hadn't been expecting the change, which occurs at a pivotal dramatic moment, and was really delighted by the novelty.

Ebullient lead Laura La Plante has no trouble with the abrupt change of format. She's particularly good in the movie's terrific finale where she engineers the elaborate "love trap" suggested by the film's title. Mama's boy Neil Hamilton can't quite match her sparkle, but he's very easy on the eyes.

The plot of this deceptively overlooked little trifle is the usual nonsense about a sweet young lass whose path crosses that of one of those personable young millionaires with entirely honourable intentions you find behind every corner in the silents, only to be entirely falsely suspected of being a gold-digging little hussy by his disapproving family. But 'The Love Trap' proves fascinating historically both as a relic of the "part-talkie" era and for its adroit staging by the up-and-coming young William Wyler feeling his way towards his mature style.

The first two thirds of this fluff has attractive performances in the leads by Laura La Plante and Neil Hamilton, while Wyler is already visibly attempting to find ways of extending the boundaries of the cinema screen through frequent use of pans and attempts at composition in depth. In his talkies Wyler abandoned the pans, which tend to jar at times, but with the great Gregg Toland behind the camera eventually came second only to Orson Welles as the 1940s' master of deep focus composition in 'The Best Years of Our Lives' (1946), which veteran cameraman Gilbert Warrenton had done his best to achieve in 'The Love Trap' with the limited resources then at his disposal.

Then suddenly everybody starts talking! The early scenes had all carried a Vitaphone soundtrack, and 'The Love Trap' had evidently started life as a silent, since there are scenes in which people speak dialogue which the makers haven't bothered to caption, as they'd presumably decided the film was going to go into release as a part-talkie and thus elected to keep titles to the minimum in scenes where the audience would be able to get the gist without them.

At this point the film seems on the verge of turning all serious on us, but happily opts instead for saucy pre-Code farce, in which Miss La Plante - mostly dressed only in her scanties - effortlessly and charmingly leaps the daunting hurdle of suddenly starring in a talkie.