L'homme que j'ai tué

What a pleasant surprise! This touching story of the misery visited upon one man by the First World War leads to memorable statement about who is responsible for war. I will definitely share this video with my friends.

I am really happy to have this chance to comment about this great movie.I have two reasons for that. One of them is that on doing so I also make a homage to my dear father who since my early day days constantly mentioned Broken Lullaby as being the "best movie he ever saw" and made me listen to his telling of every of its passages, every detail of it. In 1982 I had the opportunity to watch this movie on Tv in Brazil and was finally able to enjoy it with great emotion besides the fact that I could then agree with my father on how great the movie was.The other reason is that this comment may suggest movie industry to show Broken Lullaby today and sell VHS/DVD copies of same so that others can have the priviledge of enjoyng this great war drama. Lionel Barrymore's performance in this movie is somethong to be taken as magnificent. In all aspects the movie should be considered among the greatest ones ever made and be included in a list of the best movie classics for its human content and inspiring message of love and dignity.

it is easy to define it as pathetic. but it has the virtue to be one of the most convincing anti-war film. not only for the touching speech of the character of Lionel Barrymore front to his friends, for the need of Paul Renard to correct a terrible sin or for the final lullaby, but for the status of message between the two World Wars. this is the detail who gives more value to an exercise to define the need of peace than many others films about the same theme. because the ordinary recipes has fascinating nuances in this case. nuances who gives to it a special beauty. and a profound expression of compassion. the delicacy of feelings , the strong emotions, the preconceptions and the image of the other in dark nuances are covered in a real inspired eulogy of humanity.

Broken Lullaby is a story in the vein of All Quiet on the Western Front. Paul Renaud (Phillips Holmes) is a soldier for France during WWI. He does his duty and kills an enemy, but the ordeal scars him painfully. He becomes obsessed with his victim, discovers his name is Walter Holderlin, and even goes to Walter's hometown to visit with his family. He intends to tell them of his crime, to apologize and explain himself. However, when he goes to their home and meets with his father (Lionel Barrymore), he finds he cannot go through with it. He decieves them into thinking he was friends with Walter, and that he came to offer himself as a replacement for their son. In a way, he does take over Walters life, and even falls in love with his fiancée (Nancy Carroll).

A highly sophisticated but atypical Lubitsch film, Broken Lullaby has many memorable scenes and great photographic elements. The camera is hardly static, even for such an early talking picture. The major flaw with it is Holmes' acting style. While the others are more subdued and natural, his stagy performance is a bit offputting.

In the sense that this film's post-WW I pacifist yearnings are naive and unsupported by philosophic or practical consideration, this film is dated, there's no denying that. In that sense it's tied to its time in a way that many other films of the early thirties are not. But still, it's a wonderful film! A simple story: A Frenchman is overcome with guilt for killing a single German in battle in WW I. The church gives him no solace, so he decides to seek the forgiveness of the German soldier's family. The family jumps to the conclusion that he was a friend of their son, and he hasn't the courage to tell them the truth.

The performances are straightforward, and Lionel Barrymore is superb, as he nearly always was in his early years. When appropriate, Lubitsch uses all the showy techniques of his personal style. The opening scenes are a bravura series of brilliant visual bits, particularly the tracking shot down the church aisle at an armistice service, showing a belted sword extended from each pew. At other points, too, his special touch is evident, especially with the use of sound. When the German girl strolls with the Frenchman, the scandalous news travels from shop to shop to shop, and their walk is punctuated by the sound of the tingling bells on the shop doors. And the ticking of the clock, which the old man faithfully winds in his dead son's room, is adroitly used in the final scenes. One of the most telling uses of sound is when Barrymore hears the sound of marching feet. He looks toward an archway and the militaristic sound grows louder, but the sequence ends before the soldiers appear in the arch. It's a chilling moment that reminds the audience that Hitler is just off-screen, that perhaps the film's ideas are already out-of-date.

But Lubitsch also shows his greatness by the ABSENCE of obvious Lubitsch technique throughout much of the film. He's aware that his characters are the essence of the film, and for long stretches he lets his players act their story in plain, unbroken two-shots, without cinematic embellishment. It's a film by a master, and it's shameful that the failure of this film prevented Lubitsch from ever undertaking another drama.