Der Reigen

I first saw La Ronde in 1950, at an art theatre, when I was completely caught up in the concept and progression of scenes, but only a novice at critical analysis. Consequently, it was one of the first (Beta) videotapes in my collection.I viewed it again last night, for only the second time. I can understand the reactions of those, especially contemporary viewers who expect romantic scenes to be more explicit. (The French were doing that very well long before Hollywood, so the lack in this film does not result from reticence.) Yet after 53 years the film has lost little of its charm for me: (I notice that older viewers tended to rate La Ronde higher than those who are younger.) The linking device came from Schnitzler, not from the film scripter, so could hardly have been avoided, and the segments varied in quality. It seems that the actors did not take the film or themselves too seriously, which was quite appropriate. I recall that the only full-screen close-up came at the end, with Signoret as the prostitute. Was that a final comment on love itself: always exploitative and transitory; as seen in each scene, to a greater or lesser extent.

Vienna 1900. But actually a film studio in France. Ophuls never lets you forget that. This masterwork is deeply concerned with truth and illusion. In love and in art, in the art of love. It is charming whilst showing you the limitations of charm, seductive whilst demonstrating the hazards of seduction. Great as it is, it probably is not the peak of the director's achievement: LETTER FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN, MADAME DE... and LOLA MONTES probably have better claims to that accolade. But the rare weak moments do not, in my view, detract from LA RONDE's status as a masterpiece, since over all its quality is so high. It boasts a dazzling cast, led by wonderful Anton Walbrook, and a theme tune by Oskar Straus that will follow you around for the rest of your life.

This seems a little old fashioned even allowing for it's period setting. Perhaps it's the reluctance of the director to go beyond even the merest suggestion of congress that gives it an air of something made in the late thirties or forties. It certainly has charm though and Ophul's cameras twirl and glide like the carousel itself. Always looking sumptuous (perhaps it shouldn't) and always light-hearted (perhaps it should be more serious) it is a pleasant enough viewing. Oscar Strauss' music helps enormously and is in complete harmony with the visuals. Simon Signoret as the prostitute, seen at the start and finish is exemplary and Simone Simon shines most brightly as the seductive maid.

La Ronde is one of my favourite French films, I can't watch it too often as it has its faults but it hasn't failed to enchant me each time so far. Max Ophuls certainly had an elegant style about him, see Le Plaisir and Madame de .. for further evidence. He re-created Vienna 1903 seemingly effortlessly in this, and even with Anton Walbrook continually talking to the camera and a film set deliberately momentarily on display it's pretty convincing. The attention to period detail was knockout, done as only Ophuls knew how. It can still be done nowadays but lacking one vital ingredient: an atmosphere, a feel for the time and place that came with nitrate film stock. Modern films can look as sumptuous in their set and costume design even in todays colour, but nearly all fail to generate an atmosphere because modern film stock plays too realistic - and it ain't going to get any better with digital no-film-at-all!

The Austrian Anton Walbrook was a multi-linguist, his sinister sibilant English in Gaslight was perfect, in Colonel Blimp perfectly resigned as a defeated and baffled non-Nazi German soldier. He spoke a few gorgeous words in French in La Ronde and was then promptly dubbed for the rest of the movie. Maybe he couldn't sing, but why did they jettison such a lovely speaking voice as well?

The conventional hypocrisy of sexually cheating on your (straight?!) partner in secret is repeatedly portrayed, as well as the notion that casual sexual gratification is usually desired by both sexes of both classes and as fast as possible. These lovers of sex move on: familiarity breeds contempt - once you've come it's time to go! This sex (not love) merry-go-round is one reason why there are 6 billion people on Earth today! But I definitely don't agree with the previous comment that Ophuls' version of La Ronde was about the spread of STD even though the original play had it as a major theme. Ophuls was all about Pleasure, not Pain - any syphilitic transmission was left to the imagination here. Walbrook waxes wistfully cynical throughout this beautiful film - he wouldn't change a thing about Life and Sex if he could. I'm happily forced to watch this film with amused sadness from his point of view, and wouldn't change a thing about it even if I could.

Through a series of dove-tailing love vignettes, Max Ophüls offers us an enchanting film replete with some of the greatest acting talent French cinema has known. The brevity of the individual segments of the film does not greatly impair the quality of the characterisation or acting performance, and there are some very impressive moments, particularly the scenes with Jean-Louis Barrault (best know for his role in Les Enfants du Paradis) and Simone Signoret (Les Diaboliques and Casque d'Or).

The film is surprisingly - for a film of its age - pretty explicit about the sexual proclivities of the aristocracy and military men. That a respectable middle-aged married woman should seek an amorous adventure with a man half her age, whilst her wealthy husband carries on with a young woman barely out of her teens most probably caused a few raised eyebrows when the film was released in 1950 - particularly when the film is very much in the velvet-lined mould of the traditional pre-war French romantic film.

The most impressive aspect of the film, above the great acting and splendid direction, is its humour. This is a film that is unable to take itself seriously. The mysterious raconteur (superbly played by Anton Walbrook) endeavours to keep the merry-go-round of love happily on its course, but has a few technical problems on the way. It's reassuring to know that even all-knowing deities have their off-days.

Another strong point is Oscar Straus's musical score, particularly the raconteur's merry-go-round ballad which accompanies the film throughout, not unlike the cheery music of a real merry-go-round in a fairground.

This has all the ingredients of a great film. It is a fanciful waltz across the ephemeral ballroom of love, and it succeeds admirably.