The Merry Jail

Critics who write about Ernst Lubitsch's great romantic comedies often refer to the "European" flavor of his Hollywood work, so it's especially intriguing to view this recently rediscovered silent comedy Lubitsch made in his native Germany in 1917. Ein Fideles Gefängnis ("The Merry Jail") is an adaptation of the libretto from Johann Strauss' operetta Die Fledermaus, and while it lacks the sophistication and nuance of the director's mature work, it's an interesting film in its own right, distinctly different from the Hollywood product of the time -- or later, for that matter. In some respects, this movie looks primitive compared to concurrent American productions, but in others (such as the bluntly presented homosexuality of one character), it goes beyond anything Hollywood filmmakers, including Lubitsch himself, were permitted to explore for many years to come.

Even if you're unfamiliar with the Strauss operetta this adaptation may feel familiar, for it uses a frequently recycled plot device: this is the story of Alice, a rich but neglected wife, who disguises herself and follows her drunken playboy of a husband to a society gala, where she leads him on. Ignorant of her true identity, he flirts happily, unaware that he's contemplating an "extra-marital" affair with his own wife. (And he certainly must be blotto, as her disguise consists of little more than an evening gown and a Lone Ranger-style mask.) Meanwhile, other frolics are under way: there's a light-hearted flirtation between Alice and Egon Storch, the odd little man who admires her; there's outright carousing by Alice's maid and a sloshed aristocrat; and there's even more boisterous behavior by a drunken jailer named Quabbe towards various men who capture his fancy. Quabbe is played by Emil Jannings, whose makeup suggests Keystone comic Chester Conklin gone to seed. Even today, viewers might be startled when he kisses one inmate on the lips, strokes the arm of another, and tells the warden that he really, really likes him. This is a Merry Jail indeed! (But wouldn't "The Gay Jail" have been a better translation for the title?)

This movie paints a colorful but rather disturbing picture of Germany during the Great War. Film textbooks pay lots of attention to the postwar Weimar era silent classics such as Caligari and Nosferatu, and they are frequently screened and widely available, but it isn't often one encounters a German production produced during the war. No direct reference is made to the conflict, but during the masked ball it's noticeable that several of the dancing pairs are women, suggesting a lack of available men. It's also noticeable that most of the males we see are extremely drunk, suggesting an exhausted culture in search of alcoholic oblivion. Most of these characters are both privileged and idle, protected from having to serve in the military by their social positions. I wonder if this movie was seen by German soldiers, and how they felt about fighting for the sake of these frivolous people.

The acting technique on display in Ein Fideles Gefängnis is one of the film's drawbacks. The actors mug, over-react, and occasionally turn to the camera to rattle off silent speeches, a silly device one finds in such early comedy features as Mack Sennett's Tillie's Punctured Romance of 1914, but which most filmmakers outgrew by the late 'teens. An even bigger drawback is the leading man's sheer grossness. (And I don't mean his appearance.) Harry Liedtke, the actor who plays Alex Von Reizenstein, is not bad looking, but his character is totally unappealing. Who could care about this guy or his marriage? He's a spoiled, irresponsible, hopelessly wasted cad who vomits in his hat, bribes his wife to silence her complaints, and flirts shamelessly while claiming to be a bachelor -- although, frankly, he appears far too dissolute to actually consummate an affair. This guy isn't merely a naughty rogue, he's a slob, and his wife Alice the cheerful collector of bribes isn't much better. The most likable characters are Mizi the maid and funny little Egon Storch, two people who are at least candid about their desires, in contrast with Alex and Alice, whose relationship seems to be built entirely on deceit. The supporting players give this comedy its best moments.

At any rate, despite its flaws, this film provides a rare glimpse into a dying culture in its final days, and a fascinating introduction to a great director at the dawn of his career.

Fortunately the summer season has almost ended and consequently the aristocratic situation has returned to normal, having in mind the aristocrat's parameters, obviously…, so it's time to resume the exclusive silent season, now that this Herr Graf has returned from one of those luxurious spa retirements in Switzerland full of decrepit and sickly guests and where only horrible water is served. For that reason this Herr Von missed very much his silent films together with a cocktail in his hands, but now, happily the perfect atmosphere and depressed autumn mood is coming.

But meanwhile until the autumn cold and darkness knock at the Schloss door, why not watch a hilarious silent film as a contrast to the usual bad-tempered aristocratic mood of the whole year?... so the screening at the Schloss theatre of "Das Fidele Gefängnis", was an excellent choice.

It is an early Herr Ernst Lubitsch film so characteristic of the German period of that great German director; a mid-length oeuvre, full of irony and sarcasm depicting with a special Teutonic sense of humour the marital troubles of a German bourgeois couple.

Herr Lubitsch intertwined different characters in the story with three parallel situations ( the bourgeois couple, their maid and the admirer of the wife ). The characters will suffer particular adventures, from a typical decadent soirée to a particular Teutonic jail, until finally everything will be more or less settled.

The wicked and masterful irony of the German director that made him famous in the whole world, is demonstrated during the beginning of the film when an amazed wife is searching for her husband (who spent the night outside and alone) through the whole house with the help of her maid but without success; they check every room in vain when maliciously the maid suggests, with a wicked look, her own room; that's pure and unique Lubitsch's style, ja wohl!.

The film has many malicious and delicate misunderstandings so common in Herr Lubitsch early oeuvres; there is a chaotic soirée and a frantic ball. This is pure aristocratic Teutonic decadence, certainly.

"Das Fidele Gefängnis" it is not a great film but has many recognizable Herr Lubitsch elements much to the joy of silent film fans who admire the mastery of the German director ( perfect stars and supporting actors, careful designs, splendid cinematography ); a small picture of the German director, full of "joie de vivre", so necessary in Europe during the First World War, the time when the film was made.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must search through the Schloss for a Teutonic rich heiress.

This is a two-reel silent comedy from Ernst Lubitsch early in his career--long before he left Germany for Hollywood. For an early film, the production values are very good. The sets and acting are just fine, though this REALLY confused me. After all, this movie came out in 1917--in the middle of WWI. Yet despite this, the film makes no mention of the war and everyone seems happy and well-fed--something that would NOT have mirrored Germany in 1917. About the only way you notice something is amiss is at the party. Some of the lady dancers are actually dancing with women dressed up as men! I assume this was due to a shortage of available able-bodied young men (most had been killed in the war or were serving at the front). So this film is very interesting from a historical standpoint.

Unfortunately, while this is a decent film, I must also admit that it isn't all that funny. It reminds me of a more sophisticated and cerebral version of a Sennett film. And while this isn't bad, it definitely could have used an infusion of a few more gags to liven it up a bit. This film is probably best seen by huge cinephiles (film lovers) who want to see an early film by Ernst Lubitsch to see what he was before he hit Hollywood.

"The Merry Jail", which now appears on the wonderful Criterion DVD edition of Ernst Lubitsch's comic masterpiece "Trouble In Paradise", serves as an

interesting introduction to the director's early years as a German silent film director and a first look at his handling of complex, comic relationships between men and women.

The roughly fifty minute film, involves a couple and their maid who all sneak off to the same party to rekindle, confront and find new love. It's not a great film by any stretch, and is often confusing with humor that is dated. However, the real treat of the film is the last fifteen minutes when Lubitsch ties together the stray threads of the story and ties them into (a not necessarily neat) bow.

For an introduction to Lubitsch's work, please stay away from this film and watch "Trouble In Paradise" or "The Shop Around The Corner", but to see the

beginnings of an influential director, "The Merry Jail" is an adequate classroom.

5/10

The mid-1910s were a crucial time in the development of cinema. However due to the war that was going on German cinema was to some extent growing up in isolation, and was learning to do things its own way. Besides, in Germany they took their inspiration so much more from their own stage traditions, as we see in this Ernst Lubitsch three-reeler, a good old-fashioned farce loosely adapted from Johann Strauss II operetta Die Fledermaus.

Lubitsch however was anything but theatrical in his execution. The director seems fascinated by the possibilities that cinema offers in the field of depth, with lots of long hallways and characters entering from the back of the set rather than emerging from the wings. And it is often this use of depth which facilitates the comedy, such as Harry Liedtke's drunken lurch home, or his sudden appearance below the desk as the camera pulls back. Lubitsch even extends this trajectory out through the fourth wall, with Liedtke bemoaning his troubles directly to the audience. Characters addressing the audience was not really a done thing in American cinema. Nor was crossing the line of action, which Lubitsch does on one occasion, flipping the camera back and forth to see both sides of a car for a series of gags.

Another big difference between this and Hollywood comedy of the time is that Lubitsch has no big comedy star. Whereas funny business in the states was being lead and driven by stand-alone comics like Charlie Chaplin and Fatty Arbuckle, for Das Fidele Gefangnis it's the ensemble that matters. The comedy acting here generally boils down to wildly running around and pulling silly faces, from Harry Liedtke's put-upon, forlorn look to Emil Janning's crazy eyes and wriggly moustache. Not the most sophisticated stuff but it works in the context. None of these players could have carried off a show on their own, but they don't really need to for this sort of comedy.

Das Fidele Gefangnis is in fact such a jolly, witty, absurd creation that you wouldn't think there was a war on. When you see such bizarre humour as Agda Nielson having a cigar shoved in her mouth by a hurried guest, or a cheating card-player's bottom thrust towards the camera with an Ace of Hearts stuck to it, it's hard to think of the mass slaughter that was going on not so far away at the time. And then again, perhaps it does make sense, since Ernst Lubitsch's crazed brand of humour makes for wonderful escapism.