El gato montés

One thing that strikes you as you watch the early Lubitsch comedies recently released on DVD in the US by Kino is-- how did Lubitsch come to have such an extravagant visual style, only to give it up a few years later? The later Lubitsch movies are certainly handsome, coming as they mostly do from Paramount and MGM, the chicest of the Hollywood studios. But for all the exotic places depicted in his films, it never occurs to him in later years to depict them with wild curlicues of plaster, fortresses that look like birthday cakes, staircases that descend a quarter-mile amid running water, as he does the European fantasy-land in The Wildcat.

The Wildcat is a sort of burlesque on a genre of military romances buried so deeply in the mists of memory that they still seem familiar even when it's hard to think of an actual example of what's being parodied (The Desert Song?). There's a fortress on the edge of mountainous wilds, and there's a handsome young officer who's been exiled there because of his love life. And then there's a tribe of wild mountain people including a tempestuous daughter, played by Pola Negri, with whom the officer will fall in love.

As with the mistaken identity plot in The Oyster Princess, you can imagine the 30s comedy this would be the setup for, but it's nothing like this-- which mainly consists of running around and clowning broadly. Only a few bits here and there-- a hilariously exaggerated depiction of the results of the officer's Casanova-like behavior, a delightful bit of comedy on the quarter-mile staircase that plays out with the purity and visual grace of Buster Keaton's single-take descent down six flights of stairs in The Cameraman-- are actually especially funny. (There's also a quite racy "Lubitsch Touch" moment involving his photo, a pair of pants, and where she happens to kiss.)

You wish in vain for Negri and her inamorato to sit down and actually share a scene, heat up the chemistry set, show us some real one-on-one Lubitsch Touch worthy of Billy Wilder's line that "Lubitsch could do more with a closed door than most directors could do with an open fly." But at least in Negri you have a recognizable comic human being, full of life and randiness-- and the ending, though still half-cartoon, has an emotional effect well beyond anything in The Oyster Princess just three years earlier.

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.

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.

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

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.