I Am a Camera

With two shining stars such as Julie Harris (the Julie Andrews of the 50s), and Lawrence Harvey, this film was almost guaranteed to be a success. The film is not as graphic as the later, superior production, but it is fun to watch, nevertheless. Even Shelley Winters gives a decent performance for a change (oh no, my harshest critic will be offended!). The Harvey character was supposed to be gay, which the latter production made clear, but during this film period, that issue was pretty much taboo in movies. The film has a Capraesque feel to it, and yet it has a few serious moments as well. I am restricted in my use of the word recommended by my critic, but I am going to use it anyway.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Much reviled when it first appeared, (inspiring the famous review 'Me No Leica'), this precursor of "Cabaret" can now be looked at in comparison and it's not half bad. It's certainly no classic but it has its own wayward charm, (the film version of "Cabaret" follows this plot whereas the stage version changed the plot somewhat). One should, of course, resist the temptation to snicker when Laurence Harvey's Christopher Isherwood, (it keeps the original author's real name; God Knows what Isherwood thought of it), describes himself as 'a confirmed bachelor' and while Harvey is an utterly inadequate 'hero', (he's virtually asexual), and Shelly Winters woefully miscast as Fraulien Landauer, (the part Marisa Berenson played in "Cabaret"), Julie Harris is a perfectly marvellous Sally, (it's a lovely piece of comic acting), and Anton Diffring is first-rate as Fritz, the German-Jew in love with Shelly's character. Of course, if "Cabaret" had never come along you might ask yourself would this ever have seen the light of day again. That it has been revived may not quite be cause for celebration but it's perfectly acceptable all the same.

Unfortunately for Henry Cornelius's "I am a Camera" and its delightful star, Julie Harris, that film will forever lie in the shadow of Bob Fosse's Oscar-winning musical, "Cabaret." This 1955 film, the 1972 Fosse musical, the original 1951 stage play, and the 1966 Kander and Ebb Broadway musical were all based on stories by Christopher Isherwood; the tales relate the writer's time spent in Berlin during the early 1930's, where he met and enjoyed a platonic relationship with the irrepressible Sally Bowles, a cabaret singer and aspiring film star. Bookended by Isherwood in voice-over recalling Bowles and Berlin to colleagues at a reception for the publication of Bowles's memoirs, "I am a Camera" is a highly enjoyable movie that has unjustly been eclipsed by the subsequent musical version.

Comparisons between the two movie versions are inescapable. "I am a Camera" was filmed late in period when the Motion Picture Production Code and the Legion of Decency ruled Hollywood; any mention of homosexuality, bisexuality, promiscuity, or abortion were forbidden, and those subjects are only alluded to with veiled references. However, by the time Fosse filmed the musical remake, the Code and the Legion were history, and, in "Cabaret," Christopher openly liked boys, Sally had an abortion, and Sally's straight boyfriend, Clive, in the earlier film, had become the bisexual Maximilian von Heune, who bedded both Sally and Chris. Although the rise of the Nazis and anti-Semitism were depicted in both films, "Cabaret" hit the subject with more force.

Julie Harris created Sally Bowles on stage, and her performance in "I am a Camera" is wonderful; she is alternately touching, exasperating, thoughtless, endearing, and always flamboyant as a nightclub singer of lesser talent, who dreams of big things, but always chooses the wrong men in her pursuit of the good life. Laurence Harvey is quite good in the less showy role of Chris; his overlong pouffed hair, prudishness, and indifference to Harris's physical charms wordlessly suggest his sexual orientation. Anton Diffring and Shelley Winters are also effective as the Jewish lovers, Fritz and Natalia, who cautiously court, while the threat of Naziism swirls around them. Ron Randell is also fine as Clive, Sally's wealthy party-loving beau.

Although short and censored, "I am a Camera" is possibly truer to Isherwood's stories and the real Sally than was "Cabaret." Based on a play by John van Druten, John Collier adapted and likely sanitized Isherwood for the screen. Shot in black and white by Guy Green, the film retains some staginess, but maintains a decent pace. However, most importantly, "I am a Camera" preserves the Julie Harris performance that created the unforgettable Sally Bowles.

This film was inexplicably made in England, and though there is some staginess - noticably in the yelling of some of the actors - director Henry Cornelius provides some clever imagery eg the decadence of the Berlin nightclub by a piglet and two smashing beerglasses, and Christopher standing at a window in the past bringing out us out of the narrative flashback. It also features a remarkable hotel party setpiece.

The infamous role of Sally Bowles is written as a pretentious innocent, and the knowledge that Isherwood was gay feeds into the notion of Sally as a coded drag queen, or at least, an effeminate gay man. The screenplay is full of gay subtext eg Christopher's narcissism demonstrated in his lotions and weights and boufant hairstyle, Sally's descriptions of male musculature, the repeated use of sausages, Sally telling Christopher he doesn't "understand" women, his describing her sex appeal as "inadequate", the rectal thermometer, his massage, his confession that he is "not the marrying type", and fear of being "embroiled" with her. The major difference between this treatment and that of Bob Fosse's Cabaret is the Clive Mortimer character, who here is heterosexual, but would be later turned into the bisexual Max.

Julie Harris performed the role of Sally Bowles on Broadway, and one's opinion of her performance cannot help but be influenced by Liza Minnelli (as is one's opinion of the film as a piece). Harris works against her basic miscasting (she doesn't even use an English accent when we are told Sally is English) because Sally is such an artificial creation. She is like an Actors Studio version of a junior Auntie Mame, and even when her antics become tiresome, she is still far more likeable than Laurence Harvey's starched and basically asexual Christopher. Harris may not have Minnelli's street urchin vulnerability, but she has some inspired moments - posing in front of a mirror wearing a mink coat, her drunken giggling, looking behind a silk scarf, or licking milk with a wild tongue.

In this film Julie Harris reprises her Tony award-winning performance as Sally Bowles bumming in 1920s Berlin. I loved Julie and envied Sally and her carefree ways, but I was young then. While the film may not be "important," it does tell us something about life and culture based upon Christopher Isherwood's evocation of fun-loving pre-Hitler Berlin. It's about a world and time long vanished & highly lamented by aging romantics such as I. So temper your critical faculties and just enjoy a stunning performance by Julie Harris who has won more Tony Awards (5) than any other actress.