Le roman de Werther

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe came to both regret and resent the phenomenal success of his loosely based biographical, epistolatory novel of 1774 and the 'Werther Fever' that resulted. Even in his old age admirers who made the pilgrimage to visit him seemed only to want to talk about 'The Sorrows of Werther'. The unbearable heartache of this ill-fated romance has been captured brilliantly by Max Ophuls and his leading players Pierre Richard-Willm, Annie Vernay and Jean Galland. The cinematography is shared by the Frenchman Portier, the Russian Bourgasoff and not least the German Schufftan. One is able to appreciate their work despite an indifferent print. The music of various composers is used to great effect without being overpowering. Tragically the enchanting Mlle Vernay who was a mere fifteen when she played Charlotte, was to die of typhus four years later whilst on her way to America. Although this film lacks the polish and technical viruosity of Ophuls' later masterworks it remains an essential part of his oeuvre and should not be overlooked.

This was Ophuls rendering on film of Goethe's classic. Although not the best of his work, the acting is quite good. The most remarkable aspects are the cinematography and the direction. There is a with very interesting use of lighting, with pools of light drawing attention to specific parts of the set and characters, more typical of theater than 30's cinema. But the direction uses others devices to avoid the "stagy" look, like the interposition of objects between the camera and the action to create depth, sometimes using deep focus. But that was shortly before Citizen Kane...

The "Sorrows of Young Werther" (1774), a rather hapless and excessively emotional law clerk, is often thought of as the first great German novel. Whether it is or isn't is not important. What is important is that Goethe's epistolary work (no doubt influenced by Samuel Richardson and Laurence Sterne, though probably not Tobias Smollett) had a monumental impact on the development of German romanticism, and on the development of a poetry of feeling, of 'sturm und drang'. It impacted upon almost all forms of humanist endeavour: drama (especially during the 1770s through the work of Lessing), poetry, theology (still the queen of the sciences in late eighteenth century Germany), history, and other categories of belles-lettres. It exploded on the continental literary scene and vaulted its author to the status of a superstar. Thousands of young men committed imitative suicide, and Napoleon kept a copy in his knapsack.

Werther is supposed to have been, like Goethe himself, a junior clerk in the Reichskammersgericht (the imperial supreme court) based in the free upper Rheinish city of Wetzlar. Lotte is essentially Charlotte Buff, Goethe's lost love (in this instance a decent performance by the delightful Annie Vernay).

The story is very well known, and there is no need to repeat any of the details. Pierre Richard-Willm, often derided as rather stiff and wooden is exactly right for this eponymous role. He has a rather vague and abstracted appearance that subverts his looks (he was probably rather old for the part, but gets away with it). The audience can easily scent a loser. In Adam von Hochatten (Jean Galland) we can detect a winner, secure in his status and prospects.

Werther gets lost in drink and in an obsession with James Macpherson's forgery of Ossian. Max Ophuls carries us away in in a state of emotional and romantic resignation and despair to the music of (variously) J. S. Bach, W. F. Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert (very apt, Beethoven and Schubert), and Haydn. The costumes are well done (if a little anachronistic), as is the art direction. Ophuls is able to convey an authentic feeling - if not for 1774, then perhaps 1804. We have for instance a scene with a slightly fustian grand duke (Phillippe Richard), and we are reminded that the old Germany was a mosaic of innumerable petty principalities. Some critics, notably Richard Roud, accused Ophuls of vulgarising this supreme novel. That was perhaps inevitable in any cinematic adaptation. However, this is a very fine effort. The most curious thing is why France was making a film of the Great German Novel at all, and particularly in 1938?

Pierre Richard-Willm comes to town to take up the post of Refendary -- the equivalent of a law clerk. He's a blithe, modern fellow who is kind to children, writes poetry and reads Rosseau, and makes friends instantly with Jean Galland, who shows him his copy of the banned author. He quickly falls in love with Annie Vernay. When he proposes to her, she tells him she is engaged to be married to Galland.

Max Ophuls' movie is pretty much a standard weeper at this point. It is, however, based on a Goethe novel, which means that besides the usual proto-noir lighting of the second half and Richard-Willm's descent into drunkenness and whoring, there's a philosophical bent to it. There's a murderer who killed a woman. On questioning, it turns out that they loved each other, but she was likewise married to another. Richard-Willm and Galland have an argument about law and murder, in which the protagonist argues for temporary insanity and Galland argues for the protection of society.

It's a well-made movie, as you would expect from Ophuls. Its literary source and philosophical argument give it a respectability; the kindly people and constrained society of its setting support the theses of the movie. However, at its base it's a well-done tear-jerker.

Already here in 1938 Max Ophuls proves himself the master of romantic aestheticism in a deeply moving and fascinating rendering of one of the most classic of all novels and the most deplorable of love stories, but the fact that it couldn't have ended worse is treated with expert sense of good taste. Although everybody knows the story and how it must end in suicide, Ophuls still makes it come as a surprise, and it is marvelously illustrated without showing it. Also the actors make a splendid job of the performances and couldn't have been better, although none of them is known or remembered today. You can well imagine Danielle Darrieux and Gerard Philippe in the same roles not doing any better (or worse). Also the music is excellently suited and not allowed to dominate too much - the use of the church bells and their melody quite triggers the story. Max Ophuls has simply succeeded in translating a novel of letters into a qualified drama without making it theatrical - it is perfectly organic all the way and runs with smooth efficiency, constantly accelerating the tension and the drama from ideal idylls in the beginning to gradually growing into dead serious business. It was a delight to see Goethe so successfully adapted for the screen - I would believe him to have been the most difficult of authors to undergo that treatment with any success.

Especially fascinating is the cinematic technique and innovative tricks that Ophuls uses to add life and interest to his film. It is throughout very atmospherical, the moods of the novel are faithfully transported to the screen, and above all the film is marked by Ophuils' famous obsession with details, which no one could use to enhance the quality of a film better than he. The greatest joy of seeing this film was actually to be able to recognize all the familiar tricks and styles of this one of the greatest of all cinema masters as early as 1938.

It has been pointed out, that it's a French film made on a German novel in the year before the apocalypse of Germany and the second world war. He had made many films in Germany previously but henceforward moved to France - and the war and its circumstances caused him a time out for seven years - to then return i full bloom with all his major masterworks.