The Wildcat

What a remarkable film! Within minutes one immediately gets the impression that if 'The wildcat' were made in the modern era, it would be a bombastic, proverbial Technicolor nightmare of a farce. Though there's no color or sound here, Ernst Lubitsch's feature is no less of a spectacle of frivolity. The consideration given to hair, makeup - and even more so imaginative costume design, and stupendous set design and decoration - is only of the utmost playful grandiosity, fetching sights by all accounts and nigh fantastical. This rather goes as well for the framing of each scene, as most of the footage presents to us through cut-outs of wildly varying shape and size. And so it is down the line, including sharp editing: from start to finish, this movie is filled a jovial air of comedy on par with the most robust nonsense of silent stars like Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd, or Charlie Chaplin. And it's so much fun!

In his direction, and in his screenplay co-written with Hanns Kräly, Lubitsch has a mind for lighthearted silliness that makes the picture a true joy to behold. This is reflected in the (reconstructed) intertitles, the characters, the writing and orchestration of each scene, the overall narrative, and in the guidance of the cast. There are some familiar themes at the core of the story, yet every element is marked with such a sense of caricature and exaggeration as to ensure that no one steps away from 'The wildcat' without having a good time. The assembled actors lean wholeheartedly into that slant, each giving performances of strong physicality and personality - with body language and facial expression heightened well beyond even what is characteristic of the silent era. The nearest approximation that readily comes to mind is in the most enthusiastically madcap moments of 2001 musical 'Moulin Rouge!' - but even that comparison fails to wholly account for the charming gaiety on hand. I'm loathe to single out only one or two figures, but it must be said that Pola Negri is fabulous, a marvel as untamed Rischka - stealing the spotlight with her every appearance on the screen. Only just shy of Negri's terrific display, Paul Heidemann's performance as Lieutenant Alexis is a slick show of flippant impertinence that's gratifying to witness.

Among other things, the movie is built on physical comedy, sight gags, satirical foolishness, and turnabout and upended expectations. Through it all we're treated to a veritable feast of visual bedazzlement, not just in the arrangement of scenes and the fastidious work of the crew but also in the very filming locations. This is nothing if not a labor of the greatest passion and care, and love for film-making; all due commendations as well to composer Marco Dalpane and the Ensemble Playground, whose contemporary score is a wonderful match for the feature. In all sincerity, I find it hard to believe that 'The wild cat' isn't more well known in the years since, alongside those select few silent titles that are most memorably acclaimed: I think this easily stands shoulder to shoulder with the very best of early cinema, as a comedy but also on its own merits broadly. It's clear how much hard work went into the production, and the result speaks for itself as an outstanding, highly enjoyable romp that easily holds up and entertains even 100 years later. So heartily carefree and mirthful is this feature that I'd have no qualms recommending it even to viewers who generally have difficulty abiding titles of the era. Hats off to Lubitsch and all involved: Wherever you can watch it, 'The wildcat' lives up to its name as a rowdy ride of rollicking wit and good cheer - and gets my highest recommendation!

A military fort is waiting for the arrival of their new lieutenant, but he is captured on his way by a gang of outlaws. To make matters worse for everyone involved, the outlaw leader's daughter has taken a shine to the man.

The Kino DVD calls this film a "playfully subversive satire of military life" and claims that it not only foreshadows the later Lubitsch films (which is obvious), but could be called an "ancestor" to Monty Python and Woody Allen. That may or may not be a fair assessment. This is, in my estimation, not the best Lubitsch comedy, even amongst his early work. I much preferred "The Oyster Princess".

Either way, 1920s silent comedy is usually seen as dominated by Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, with Harold Lloyd sometimes getting an honorable mention. We need to mention Lubitsch more. He may not have had the physical comedy in his films that these other three did, but he was no less of a genius.

One of the better of Lubitsch's rough mountain comedies, with Pola Negri as the wild daughter of the bandit chief (all of the the bandits' possessions are festooned with skulls, to show how dangerous they are) who falls in love with the handsome lieutenant brought in to marry the daughter of the corpulent and ineffectual colonel of the fort. Like his other mountain comedies -- MEYER FROM BERLIN, ROMEO AND JULIET IN THE SNOW and KOHLHEISEL'S DAUGHTER -- it is a very broad comedy, with much falling down in the snow.

In those days, Lubitsch would shoot half a dozen films a year for UFA, and one would always be a mountain comedy shot on site in Bavaria, where he liked to take a working vacation every winter. They were not polished and witty pieces like The Oyster Princess and The Doll, but they were very popular.

Viewing "The Wildcat," is like watching a live action Max Fleischer cartoon. Like those early animated wonders, this comedy is full of goofy characters and creative direction. The cast, especially Pola Negri and Paul Heidemann show no fear in bringing Lubitsch's wild vision to life, which include some truly laugh out loud moments. While the Fleischer cartoons are only around seven minutes long, "The Wildcat," struggles at times to maintain its energy for a feature length film. The pros of this movie far out weigh the cons, though, and if you're looking for a non-traditional silent film that will put a smile upon your face, then you need to search no further.

In the snowy Bavarian Alps, the arrival of preening soldier Paul Heidemann (as Alexis) causes pandemonium in a military town. Thousands of women surround him, foreshadowing the attention given Rudolph Valentino and The Beatles. Not participating in the initial adulation is spirited mountain girl Pola Negri (as Rischka). A regular wildcat, Ms. Negri is introduced in a scene which shows her driving men crazy by whipping their buttocks. The men rub their rumps and complain, but return for more attention. After some kissing, Negri sees Mr. Heidemann's coach and throws a snowball at him. When he gets out and she sees his plump heinie, they get romantic...

Released when Negri and director Ernst Lubitsch were international favorites, "Die Bergkatze" was not a favorite with audiences. It's a farcical comedy inhibited by Mr. Lubitsch's relentless parody of an old film staple known as the "iris shot". This is when the screen, usually to close a scene, will turn black for a diminishing circle. In the theater, the look was achieved with lightning. Filmmakers were experimenting with the visual and Lubitsch employs it all over this film, and in a variety of shapes...

A decade earlier, there was a debate about whether motion pictures should use the "close-up shot" because some felt the audience would feel like they were denied a full look at the performer (as on the stage). With a "close-up" you still get the full look; with the "iris shot", you do not. In this film, the visual is excessive and distracting. We're denied full-screen looks at the film's chief strength, its beautiful set decoration. Another feature, the "double exposure", nicely introduces Act IV "Rischka's Dream". Usually cast as a seductress, Negri is most engaging as a comedienne. The available print looks great and is accompanied by a new, oppressive soundtrack.

***** Die Bergkatze (4/14/21) Ernst Lubitsch ~ Pola Negri, Paul Heidemann, Victor Janson, Wilhelm Diegelmann