Extase

This early German talkie stars the gorgeous Hedy Lamarr as a bored hausfrau and is notorious for not only showing her in her birthday suit but also in the throes of passion. The film was banned in the US! For that reason alone, one should watch it. Lamarr is truly beautiful and offers a strong performance as the woman who falls for the security of an older man (and marries him) only to become restless and subsequently enthralled with a younger, more exciting lover.

(No need to recap the plot, since others have done so already.)

It's understandable that many viewers find fault with the film, raised as we are with the slam-bang sensurround of today's cineplex experience. Against that background, a movie like Ecstasy appears to have wandered in from another planet. I think there are several worthwhile reasons why.

Most importantly, the film unfolds poetically, as the camera pans slowly over surrounding hills, trees, clouds, etc., providing a serene and lyrical sense of a natural world that integrates the man and woman into its fold. Together these reveal a style and dimension almost totally missing from today's technology-driven cinema, where rapid-fire editing works to divert audience attention and not to concentrate it. Additionally, the story is conveyed by eye and not by ear, with almost no dialogue to explain what's happening. This amounts to another extreme departure from today's very literal fare, where visuals only seem to count when they excite the audience. But perhaps most unsettling-- the movie is sometimes eerily quiet, not in the sense that silent films are quiet since we expect them to be. But in the sense that the characters seldom speak when we expect them to. Thus, the burden of the story is shared between the film-maker and the viewer. The former must choose his visuals artfully so as to convey the narrative, while the latter must think about those visuals, since they're not going to be explained.

None of this is intended to belittle today's film-making. It's simply to point out that a movie like Machaty's comes out of a very different aesthetic from the one we have today. I don't claim either to be any better or worse. However, I do claim that Ecstasy represents a perspective sorely missing from today's movie-going experience, where such 'contemplative values are routinely dismissed as slow and boring.

The film itself is no masterpiece, though at times it reaches artistic heights, as in the beautifully composed beer-garden scene with its final crane shot rising to reveal the exquisite tableau below. The slow pans of the countryside with its pantheistic celebration of life, nature, and regeneration are also wonderfully expressed. These are the kind of scenes that don't overwhelm you, but instead-- given half-a chance-- accumulate quietly into an experience as memorable in its own way as the spine-tingling variety of a "Jaws".

On the other hand, the film is sometimes heavy-handed, as when Machaty piles on the imagery, particularly in the final, ode-to-labor sequence. It's hard to know what to make of this rather disruptive presence. Perhaps the symbolism has to do with the heroic dimension that hard work holds for the love-lorn hero and people in general-- a theme then being promoted by the influential Soviet cinema. Still, its presence here is rather tediously over-done.

Anyhow, I've got to admit that I tuned in initially to see the gorgeous Hedy LaMarr in the buff. But now I have to admit that in the process I also got a lot more than just a peek-a-boo romp in the woods.

Dripping with symbolism and filled with marvelous cinematography, Extase is so much more than the erotic drama we've all come to expect. This is almost a silent film, with what dialogue there is in German, and highly simplified German at that. Perhaps the filmmakers intended the film to reach the widest possible European audience, as anyone with even a little high school level Deutsch can easily dispense with the subtitles. The story is of little importance anyway, with the film succeeding on a cinematic level, not a narrative one. Symbols of fecundity and the power of nature overwhelm the human characters--there are even scenes where flowers obscure the face of supposed star Hedy Lamarr--and there are moments here that will remind viewers of the works of Dreyer, Vertov, and Riefenstahl. If the film has any message to convey, I think it's a political one: bourgeois man is timid and impotent; working class man is a happy, productive creature; and woman is the creator, destined to be unfulfilled until she has borne a child. This blend of Soviet socialist realism and National Socialist dogma doesn't overwhelm the film by any means--it's a beauty to watch from beginning to end--but it does place it in a very distinct artistic era. And, oh yeah, Hedy does get her kit off.

Famous for introducing the world to Hedy Lamarr and full frontal nudity, but it's oh so much more. In fact, this is one of the pinnacles of cinematic poetry, up there with some of the seminal works of 1930s art cinema, in the same prestigious group as Under the Roofs of Paris, Tabu, Olympia, and even L'Atalante. It's nearly a silent, relying mostly on its miraculous images, and also its fantastic, symphonic score by Giuseppe Becce. It's a masterpiece of cinematography and music, yes, and also of editing, direction, writing, and acting. A good 90% of the film moves along perfectly. Machatý seems an expert at using motifs. Perhaps not as subtle as it could be, and perhaps a bit overused, but the appearances of objects like insects, lights, and horses carry the story forward beautifully. The small snatches of dialogue are, thankfully, unintrusive. They don't jar as much as one would imagine. The final bit is odd, to say the least. Reminiscent of Russian silents, we have a montage of workers. This barely makes sense in the course of the narrative, but it's so gorgeously done that I refuse to harp too much on that flaw. Ecstasy is a film that is desperately in need of rediscovery. It belongs amongst the best films ever made.

There's no entertainment value in this confusing montage fest. There's a love triangle melodrama wrapped inside, but it's not worth the price of admission. I suspect the film is dripping with all sorts of symbolism, but what it says is never entirely clear. We get shots of flowers, horses, pick axes, and flies, flies, flies. The artsy montages interrupt the story whenever possible and go on and on, overstaying their welcome after delivering their messages.

This practically silent Czech-made movie is notable today for its nude and erotic scenes with Hedy Lamarr, years before she became a star in Hollywood. The scenes, tastefully done, really pushed the envelope back in the early 1930s, giving this film some historical significance.

It boggles my mind to see so many rave reviews for this film. Sure, it has its claims to cinematic history, but this is not a very good film. It is way too drawn out, weighed down by heavy-handed symbolism, and ultimately unsatisfying. A footnote in a textbook, sure, but no masterpiece.

Perhaps one must possess a certain artistic mind to fully appreciate this film's "poetry". If that is the case, I guess I just don't have it.

Not worth your time except as a curiosity for the rabid cinephile.