La ronde

My very first Ophüls film, a breezy studio-bound adaption of Arthur Schnitzler's play "Reigen", set in the 1980s in Vienna (yes, I'm freshly returning from a one-week vacation in Vienna). Structurally, LA RONDE adheres firmly to the play's ten liaisons, each stars one pair of its 10 characters in a sequential order, starts with the whore (Signoret) and the solider (Reggiani), then the soldier and the housemaid (Simon), the housemaid and the young gentleman (Gélin), and so forth until it finishes with the Count (Philipe) and the whore, thus consummates "la ronde".

One prominent change is that Ophüls introduces an all-knowing raconteur (Walbrook), who is quite omnipresent, not only shepherds viewers into each story, but takes on minor roles whenever transition from one scene to another is needed as well, Walbrook is vivacious and stylish as the master of ceremonies, croons the theme strain from time to time, slyly breaks the fourth wall or intervenes in the happenings occasionally; whereas the sundry characters are primarily driven by their desire and impulsion regardless of their identities, each is equally allotted a fifteen-minute or so screen time divided into two parts with two different opposite-sex, like the merry-go-round in the background, they flirt, seduce, debate, banter and having sex (off-screen) in the most casual fashion, when they put on their clothes again, no string is attached, they can continue a small talk like friends or just move on to the next chapter without hesitation. It is the quintessential of cinematic operetta doesn't impose on lecturing viewers, only to divert, to flirt, to vivify the atmosphere and to evince the Franco-philosophy of c'est la vie!

Essentially the film is a star-studded celebrity parade, household names like Signoret, Simon, Darrieux, Miranda and Philipe etc. are indisputably in their most magnificent form although none of them is given too much fodder to capitalise on, it is all the same, for cinephiles alone, an eye-opening feast to worship, thanks to the fluid camera-work and the florid production exclusively set inside the studio, it is an escapist's utter pleasure to accommodate oneself to a sumptuous period where everything looks so nostalgically charming and beguilingly narcissistic, so we can all be free and easy, at least for 97-minutes.

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.

Yes, this movie is based on overt sexual tendencies; there is no argument there. What is so amazing about this movie is the cinematography. Ophuls created so many sweeping shots, so well, using only a camera on a track. This is an amazing feat. Also this movie echoes a lot of Freud. Remember, Ophuls is German and certainly read Freud during his life.

One of Freud's greatest works involving psychoanalysis is parapraxes, or slips of the tongue. In La Ronde, parapraxes play a major role, for parapraxes also apply to misplacement of items (and people). For every love, there is another lover. Freud would say that no matter how much you love your partner, there is a better partner for you out there. A partner that the second you see, you will become instantly infatuated with. La Ronde does an excellent job of this.

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.

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.