Die spanische Tänzerin

"The is a Woman" is a wholly artificial film, dealing with wholly artificial people, amidst wholly artificial surroundings. Like "The Scarlet Empress" with imperial Russia before it, "The is a Woman" takes the simple idea of old Spain during carnival, and exaggerates it into a fantastic world choking itself with an impossible amount of streamers, confetti, and grotesquely costumed revelers. Essentially to Spanish to possibly be Spanish, the atmosphere created gives a richly textured visual feel. It becomes a costume as garish as those the Spanish people wear, disguising a series of complex and controversial themes, which could never be used as open plot devices. Director Josef von Sternberg is obviously aware of the conventions and restraints set up by Hollywood, twisting them to his own good. Using the illusion of a typical Hollywood story, he thinly but potently veils these visual costumes, which in themselves hide his rich themes, creating a film so layered its staggering!

At the center of all this is a Dietrich so beautiful, it is not quite possible to believe she ever existed outside this fantastic world created for her. Impeccably lighted, and costumed in the most flamboyant trappings imaginable, she is a toyingly evil creature of film, more alive than ever. Is it any wonder her character ruins so many men, on film alone you could fall in love with her?!

"The is a Woman" is a completely visual film. It's themes and ideas do not come from what you hear, but what you see. The plot, which seems to hide them, is really needed only that these themes and visuals may gradually reach you. I think, essentially, that story for Sternberg was like the cherry flavor in cough medicine, designed only to help you swallow the truly important stuff. Perhaps we may never reach the center of a film like "The is a Woman." If we did would we find the key to everything, or merely emptiness?

The last of seven Dietrich and von Sternberg collaborations suffers from the misogyny of the story on which it's based, and frankly it's also a bit of a mess. I'm not a big fan of story lines that involve an evil woman leading a man on such that he's rendered helpless by her charms, yet continues pursuing her despite her cruelty (e.g. 'Of Human Bondage' by W. Somerset Maugham, which was made into a film with Bette Davis in 1934, the year before this one). In the original story by Pierre Louÿs, whose erotic writing would sometimes dip into misogyny, the man in question eventually feels like he's had enough, and beats her. She likes this so much that he wins over, so yeah ... ugh.

This explains why the Hays Office censored the song "(If It Isn't Pain) Then It Isn't Love" from the film, even if in listening to audio recordings which survive, it doesn't seem salacious in its lyrics (e.g. "if it doesn't drive you insane, it can't be love"). In the film we do hear the beating though, after which Dietrich coos "Look at me. Look, Pasqualito. I'm black and blue. I know I've been cruel, but I'll make up for it. Tell me what you want me to do." Her hair has two circular coils in front, reminiscent of Goya's portrait of Thérèse-Louise de Sureda and clearly a reference to female anatomy, her mouth is right up to his ear and she's offering herself, but the eroticism of the scene is diminished severely because of the physical violence, which is all the more disturbing because it's shown to be appropriate, accepted by Dietrich, and effective in changing her behavior.

Dietrich does have her moments in the film, like when she makes a show of putting on her shawl and looking up at Lionel Atwill with beguiling eyes, and then later dramatically throwing open a thin curtain and with arms outstretched, staring defiantly at him. The film has high production value, with gorgeous outfits, headdresses, and hair/makeup, which maybe is the reason Dietrich liked it so much. The set designs are ornate and fabulous (iron gates and windows come to mind), and the crowd scenes showing life in Spain are energizing. It's a small scene, but I loved seeing the gypsy dancer on the train (apparently Luisa Espinel, uncredited), probably more than anything Dietrich does.

Unfortunately, Dietrich seems out of place for most of the film, and it's not just because she isn't Spanish, though that doesn't help. Early on she's much too made up, and hardly looks like she fits in the working room of cigarette rollers. As she plays cat and mouse with her suitor she acts absurdly, asking him if she's the only one in a silly, exaggerated way, and this along with other dramatic moments where she emotes oddly seemed to be Dietrich trying (and failing) to "act Spanish." It's an annoying character, and played unbelievably by Dietrich, much as it pains me to say it. Her musical performances are flat too. There's enough here to make it watchable, but you can do much better with other Dietrich/von Sternberg films.

This film takes place in Spain during the early part of 20th Century where a large carnival has just begun. It's at this time that a young man by the name of "Antonio Galvan" (Cesar Romero) spies a lovely young maiden named "Conche Perez" (Marlene Dietrich) who then offers to go for a ride with him the next morning. However, that same night, Antonio is informed by an old acquaintance that he greatly respects named "Don Pasquale Costelar" (Lionel Atwill) to avoid her at all costs as she is nothing but trouble. Pasquale then proceeds to tell him that he was once in love with her and upon confiding some in-depth details of how she broke his heart, Antonio swears that he will have nothing to do with her. Unfortunately, he soon finds that to be much more difficult than he initially realized and because of that trouble soon erupts between them. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this was a delightful film made especially enjoyable by the performance of Marlene Dietrich who shows why she was such a movie sensation during this time. Admittedly, this picture is quite dated and that for that reason it might not appeal to everyone. But having said that, I believe that those who like classic films from this particular period might find this one to their liking and for that reason I have rated it accordingly. Above average.

This was the seventh and last (indeed, it had been announced as such from the outset by Paramount) of the celebrated cycle of cinematic collaborations between Sternberg and Marlene Dietrich and is said to have been both their own favorite – incidentally, with it, the two effectively came full-circle by making another film (as was their first joint venture, THE BLUE ANGEL {1930}) that revolves around a middle-aged man ruining himself for love of an ungrateful young woman. It was also the third adaptation of Pierre Louys' novel "The Woman And The Puppet" that had been much admired by the French Surrealist movement and, appropriately enough, was remade much later by Luis Bunuel in 1977 as THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (which turned out to be his own swan-song).

Like that version, here we also have the long-suffering 'puppet' (Lionel Atwill in one of his best non-horror roles) narrating his misfortunes with the 'woman' – albeit to a best friend (a young Cesar Romero, replacing Joel McCrea who walked off the set after a single day's shooting!) in a Spanish cantina rather than to strangers on a train! Sill, like the earlier 1929 French version, the male lead (here renamed Pasquale) meets Conchita on a snow-derailed express where Dietrich (dressed as a nun!) takes on an unattractive gypsy female dancer and he intercedes to put an end to that struggle; incidentally, there had also been a nun passenger in the Baroncelli version but she was shown sleeping through the whole ordeal! Speaking of Atwill, he had previously acted opposite Dietrich in her first non-Sternberg Hollywood film, Rouben Mamoulian's THE SONG OF SONGS (1933) which I plan to catch up with presently; besides, Sternberg was summoned to give evidence at Atwill's 1942 trial (concerning an 'immoral' Christmas 1940 party) in which the actor infamously perjured himself and, consequently, was ostracized from Tinseltown's major league and forced to spend his last four years slumming it in third-rate (if not disagreeable) flicks!

This being an adaptation emanating from Hollywood's Golden Age, it is unsurprising to find the supporting roles filled by such amiable character actors as Edward Everett Horton and Alison Skipworth (in a bigger role – as Dietrich's mother – than her character gets in either of the other available versions) who are usually known for comedy and indeed supply some non-intrusive comic relief; equally par for the course is having Dietrich sing an amusingly suggestive number and don some of the kitschiest costumes – even if, ostensibly, she is playing a poor Spanish girl! The film is set during the carnival season and this grants Sternberg the opportunity to devise some remarkably atmospheric masks; indeed, the director must have known this was going to be his last film with Dietrich because he photographed the film himself (although the great Lucien Ballard gave uncredited support – or, rather, was learning the ropes – in his second of four consecutive films for Sternberg).

Having been made after the Hays Code came into force, the film fell victim to censorship (and even a ban threat from Spain!) but its impact still comes through; a notable change concerns the famous nude dance performed by Conchita and the humiliation endured by Pasquale at her house: celebrated novelist John Dos Passos, who adapted the Louys novel, still made Dietrich a tramp, while Sternberg displayed the power of the moment through camera-work, the décor and the elements (rain is pouring down throughout the scene! The film runs for just 80 minutes but feels somewhat longer – especially since the narrative goes on after the main story had ended in the other two versions I watched and includes exclusive incidents: a duel between the two men, a visit to a hospitalized Atwill, Conchita about to leave with Romero but deciding to stick with Atwill, etc.

I had watched THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN twice previously on Italian TV in an English-language print that was accompanied by Italian subtitles that were so large that they obscured a good part of the screen!; this new viewing came via Universal's 2-Disc Set "Marlene Dietrich: The Glamour Collection" which features two double-features on a double-sided disc (the film under review sharing disc space with Rene Clair's THE FLAME OF NEW ORLEANS {1941}) while, bafflingly, Mitchell Leisen's GOLDEN EARRINGS (1947) has a disc all to itself! Funnily enough, this being yet another case of those maligned DVD-18 discs, I was unable to start the feature by pressing the "Play" button and had to do so from the chapters menu! Incidentally, the later Julien Duvivier/Brigitte Bardot remake was alternatively known as A WOMAN LIKE Satan (while is, alas, currently available only in unsubtitled form!) and there are at least two more unrelated but notable films known as THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN: Stephanie Rothman's THE VELVET VAMPIRE (1971; which I have never seen) and Damiano Damiani's star-studded nunsploitation effort, IL SORRISO DEL GRANDE TENTATORE (1974)! Ironically enough, Sternberg had intended calling his film "Capriccio Espagnole" (which would actually be retained by the Italian release prints!) but was vetoed by Paramount's current Head Of Production, Ernst Lubitsch!

The last of the Von Sternberg - Marlene Dietrich collaborations and was certainly the loveliest in terms of photography and Ms Dietrich's costumes. But was it the best of the series? All of them (except the first - THE BLUE ANGEL) seem slightly corny by modern standards of love or sex films. The hardened nightclub singer who stumbles blindly on after her legionaire lover (Gary Cooper) in the sand dunes at the end of MOROCCO or the caring wife and mother shattering her reputation to save husband (Herbert Marshall) and son in BLONDE VENUS (doing a number in a gorilla suit) are both preposterous. But due to the director and his sultry star we don't care and still enjoy both. In terms of story line, only THE SCARLET EMPRESS has a stronger one, but that is based on the life of Catherine the Great and the death of her idiot husband Peter III of Russia (Sam Jaffe). Odd as it may seem this film may be the best in terms of script in the series.

Concha is a man-eater, and Don Pasquale is her favorite meal. His infatuation is used by her to full advantage, and she literally destroys his reputation and career. But she also destroys other men. A bull fighter she humiliates Pasquale with (Atwill tells us) subsequently committed suicide. And she seems able to twist and turn both the Mayor (Edward Everett Horton) and the young radical (Cesar Romero) with ease as well. So she is a devil, who gives a few moments of pleasure to the men but chews them up alive.

But the conclusion is curious. Pasquale rejects while recovering in the hospital from the wound in the duel. She expects him to call for her, but he doesn't and it strikes her as odd. Her desertion of Romero at the Spanish/French border seems in keeping with her general behavior to all her men...but it suggests that Pasquale's act of rejection has changed the formula a bit. Is she going back to try to tempt him again (most likely) or is she curious at the experience of a man rejecting her finally. Von Sternberg wisely leaves the issue in the air as this great movie ends.