Die Luftschlösser der Dollarprinzessin

Having learned visual design in his evening classes, the 23 year old Alfred Hitchcock understood the principle of the new medium (cinema) by using visual images to tell a story rather than dialogue. The subjective camera was the new narrator in motion pictures, and he applied that by doing the title design in this film.

This romantic British drama-comedy is directed by French-born American director George Fitzmaurice, and is based on a play by Indiana writer Booth Tarkington. The play was previously turned into a hit film by Cecil B. DeMille, in 1914. It's a weird subject matter for British films to tackle, since the play compares the American culture to that of continental Europe. There are no British characters, the male lead James Kirkwood is American, and the female lead Anna Q. Nilsson is from Sweden. The film, of which a copy survives in Amsterdam with Dutch inter-titles, is an interesting piece of cultural history, but not a very good movie.

Genevieve Simpson (Nilsson) is a girl from Kokomo, Indiana, who has just inherited a fortune. Being part of the nouveau riche, she and her brother (Geoffrey Kerr) take an interest in Europe, a place where royal people live. Whereas their native Kokomo was a good place for them to live when they were middle-class, now Europe is the appropriate place to be. They travel to Italy, which makes Daniel Pike (Kirkwood) sad cause he was apparently in love with Genevieve, or Genevieve with him. The opening of the film establishes things quite poorly, but we have no time to mourn over that, since we are already in Italy. A "prince" (Norman Kerry) starts romanticizing Genevieve, who is very appealing with all that money. Not willing to quit quite so easily, Daniel travels from Kokomo to Italy, and befriends an old man, who is a king, in disguise.

What's interesting about this film, are the concepts that people hold about United States and Europe. America is still seen as a new country, that lacks high culture, and where people are folksy. Europe is shown as a place, full of rich history, and royal people. The film tries to tell a tale about the American self-esteem and cultural jealousy, with a positive message about honesty and goodness being more important virtues, than long heritage. The aim is positive, but the end result is not. The film is a bit offensive to both Americans and Europeans, convenient, since it was made by the British. Americans are shown as simplistic, and are often the target of the joke, since the presentation is a caricature. Europeans are shown as snobby, and villainous. None of the characters felt two-dimensional, or interesting. The acting isn't very good either. The film was shot on location in Italy, and the scenery is quite nice.

I don't like the message of the film, which seems to be "who cares about Europe when we have Kokomo". It's very resonate of America's foreign policy of staying clear from European matters, but I don't really care for films that denounce the positive aspects of cultural interaction. This film shows that Americans are like this, and Europeans are like that, and then when it has presented the divide, is happy about things remaining this way. It's dull. The plot-line is very predictable, as is the humor.

Fitzmaurice directed several better films, and Alfred Hitchcock - who designed the title sequence for the film, in one of his first film assignments - would himself go on to make a few better ones, as well.

The father of Anna Q. Nilsson and Geoffrey Kerr died, and left them very rich.... and in Kokomo, Indiana, whence they are leaving for a grand tour of Europe. They leave behind a happy town, and James Kirkwood, the executor of their estate, who's long been in love with Miss Nilsson, but never mentioned it. They have a grand time, and in southern Italy, they find love, so to speak. Miss Nilsson is engaged to be married to Prince Norman Kerry, with a promised gift of a mere half a million dollars. When he's asked to write the check, Kirkwood may have just won election as governor, but he won't take office for a few months. He figures he has a duty to investigate, so he heads to Italy, rescuing an incognito King John Miltern, whose car has broken down on the road. Miltern poses as a professor, and invites Kirkwood to stay with him. Kirkwood annoys Kerr and Miss Nilsson by playing the ugly American, ordering ham and eggs and refusing wine while he has his hip flask. But he's a canny fellow who soon realizes that Kerry and his family are a bunch of bunk, conniving grifters. But how can he convince his young charges?

Demille had already made a version of Booth Tarkington's play back in 1914, so with the advantage of actually shooting in Italy, Paramount figured it was a sure property. Under the direction of stylist George Fitzmaurice and DP Roy Overbaugh, there's plenty of Italian scenery for people who want it, and it's a nicely told story. Kirkwood was one of those popular leading men of the 1910s and early 1920s, whose star dimmed, even though he continued working into the 1960s, He died in 1963 at the age of 88. His son, James Kirkwood Jr, wrot the book for A Chorus Line.

Apparently they based the production out of Paramount's British office, which explains why it's a very early credit for an art director and title designer named Alfred Hitchcock.