La leggenda di Liliom

Saw this picture was playing at the Film Forum so I said, what the heck, why not? At least I can compare it to "Carousel". And so, I was not prepared for it and was pleasantly surprised. It is a minimalist (to use current artsy language) version with spare sets and shot entirely on a sound stage, and featuring Charles Boyer as Liliom as I had never seen him before. It was a great performance from Boyer, almost unrecognizable from the oily gigolo types he played in Hollywood. Boisterous and exuberant, he brings his character to life, and now I can't imagine anyone else playing this role.

Apart from no musical score, this picture differs from "Carousel" as Liliom enters his afterlife. In "Carousel", the sequence in heaven was almost an afterthought, but here Lang infuses it with some touches that are both surreal and extremely imaginative, and without the benefit of digital enhancement. No special effects here. I didn't care for Madeleine Ozeray's interpretation of the Julie character, which came off as naive and withdrawn, almost a form of neurosis. But she, like the rest of the cast, stayed out of Boyer's way. Recommended - see it if you are a fan of actors and acting.

Billy Wilder, Kurt Weill & Fritz Lang, three Berliners fleeing the Nazis, all sojourned in Paris before coming to the USA. Wilder's Parisian work was negligible, but the more established Weill & Lang each produced a masterpiece. While Weill's 7 DEADLY SINS is one of his best known classical works, Lang's adaptation of Molnar's great play is almost unknown. CAROUSEL, Rogers & Hammerstein musicalization of LILIOM, which all but buried the original, has now brought it back. (It shows up as a welcome 'extra' on the latest 2-DVD edition of CAROUSEL.) The musical stays remarkably close to LILIOM's plot, structure & characterizations, but Molnar is both rawer & more fanciful. The mix fits Lang like a monocle. As Liliom, the carousel barker (Billy Bigelow in the musical), Charles Boyer is just about perfect, bluntly cruel & irresistible, not only a precursor to the Stanley Kowalskis of the world, but like Brando with the sensual features of a Caravaggio. The rest of the cast is just as fine, but the film's success comes largely from Lang's handling of the difficult material. Rudolphe Mate's lensing looks stunning in this well preserved copy (far superior to the KINO DVD release) and the few scenes that suffer from flat poverty row French studio conditions are easily ignored. A near great film.

"Liliom" is the only film Fritz Lang made in France, after he fled Nazi Germany and before moving to the States, and he brings all his skill and heart and humor to the wonderful Ferenc Molnar story. It must be seen-- a review of it can only give pale glimpses, such as these two lovely moments, one cinematic, one almost poetic:

First, a lap dissolve to indicate, as that technique so often does, the passage of time. It begins with the principals' names carved in wood "Julie Liliom"-- then that dissolves to new names carved over those "Andre et Daniele"-- and that in turn dissolves to "Mado Jean." Lovers fading into the background as time passes. Foreshadowing doesn't get sweeter or sadder than that.

Second, when Liliom is asked his surname, he replies, "Zadowski, like my mother." It is the only indication that he is illegitimate, and that sad fact is all the more poignant for being so understated.

As I watched I kept wondering what latter-day feminists might think of this film, because Liliom slaps Julie often enough to be accused of wife-beating. But of Liliom's character, Julie says, "Bad boy. Brute. Darling." She loves him, and knows he would never really harm her. The final moments of the film deliver its message-- love people for who they are, for better or worse, you won't change their character, and even brutes have hearts and can be worthy of love.

But I save my final remark for Charles Boyer. I've always enjoyed his work, but I was not prepared for a performance of this skill and range. He is alternately charming or savage, cocky or rueful. And he gives a gorgeously physical performance-- in a class with Toshiro Mifune as Sanjuro, or Yul Brynner as the King of Siam. He is always in motion, and when he sits with Julie on a park bench for the first time, seducing her, brushing her breasts with his hands, he seduces the whole audience. Well, me anyway.

Liliom Zadowski (Charles Boyer) is a charismatic ne'er-do-well working as a carousel barker at a small carnival when he seduces naïve young Julie (Madeleine Ozeray). Fired by his jealous boss (Florelle), he ends up loafing around the house and hanging out with his disreputable friends while Julie works. The seemingly one-sided relationship suffers until Julie (with great delicacy) tells him that she's pregnant. Excited by the prospect of fatherhood but desperate for money, Liliom partners with his scurrilous buddy Alfred (Pierre Alcover) to steal a payroll. The heist goes bad and Liliom ends up in heaven, where he is forced to face the truth about his behaviour towards Julie but is then given one day back on Earth to make amends. The film is a bit stagey (not surprising considering its source, a play by Ferenc Molnár) and leisurely paced (especially the first half), but the imaginative and surreal scenes in heaven are worth the wait. Apparently church dignitaries were not too pleased with the whimsical portrayal of God's dominion (complete with inept celestial bureaucrats sporting tiny wings and a big door leading to flaming purgatory). Boyer is excellent in the role (although his character is not very likable, especially by modern standards), which is good because he is the center of most scenes. Although not a success for director Fritz Lang, Liliom is an entertaining (albeit a bit talky and dated) early entry in the 'back from heaven' genre that is quite 'European' and more 'adult' than would have been allowed in post-Code Hollywood. In addition to this and other film versions, the Molnár's play is the basis of the famous Rodgers and Hammerstein musical "Carousel".

The film writer Daniel Shaw, in his Senses of Cinema essay on Fritz Lang, dismisses the director's take on the Ferenc Molnar play Liliom as "a piece of fluff". He should have done a bit more research, because Lang himself described Liliom as one of his favourite of his own pictures. This is a fact that, of all people, an auteurist like Shaw should not be ignoring.

You can see why the confusion arises. Liliom is very much a product of its time and place. Made in France in the early 30s, it has the same blend of down-to-earth realism and dreamy sentimentality that characterises the early films of Rene Clair or Jean Vigo's L'Atalante. And this is surely why many commentators on Lang, most famous for his paranoiac thrillers, find it so hard to accept as part of the director's canon. But Lang, while he may have inflexible in style, was by no means limited in genre.

What connects all of Lang's pictures is the extravagant oddity with which they are shot. Metropolis is a baroque sci-fi, Scarlet Street is a baroque film noir, and Liliom is a baroque romance. The picture has the same intense and often musical rhythm of Lang's late silent pictures. As usual, he places us somewhat forcefully within the action at key moments, such as the opening scene where the two lovers meet, where the camera accompanies them on the carousel. We are made to feel Julie's strife through numerous point-of-view shots of Charles Boyer, or ones of a plaintive Madeleine Ozeray looking straight into the lens. The heaven and hell sequences are pure Lang fantastical indulgence, a far cry from the minimalist equivalents in the musical adaptation Carousel.

But to the consternation of the auteurists, who would maybe have Lang turn Molnar's classic into a grim fable of doom and destiny, Lang makes it abundantly clear that he can "do" romance, and do it with sincerity. In fact, viewing the director's work as a whole this is not entirely surprising – Spione, You and Me, The Big Heat and many more are incredibly tender at times. Here he gives weight to the relationship between Liliom and Julie from the way he shoots its beginning. We see Charles Boyer doing his exuberant barking act, always in mid-shot, often partly obscured by foreground business. When he lays eyes upon Ozeray, he suddenly comes into close-up. We thus connect with the character at the same time he connects with his beloved-to-be. Their first moments together are shot with typical Lang quirkiness – low angles and rapid edits. However, as the romance blossoms their moments together are allowed to play out in long takes and single camera set-ups.

Which brings me onto my next point. There is one way in which Liliom differs markedly from the average Fritz Lang picture. Normally the actors under Lang's jurisdiction were excessively hammy, all wild gestures and crazy faces, even in the lead roles. In Liliom however the keynote is one of restraint and credibility. We have a young Charles Boyer displaying all the charismatic charm that would propel him to Hollywood stardom a few years later. Sure, he is highly expressive, but in a way that is believable for that character. Madeleine Ozeray makes an incredibly fragile figure, playing out her emotions through tiny, soft movements. It's a pity she didn't share Boyer's later success. There's also a wonderfully mannered performance from Henri Richard as the commissioner. Commanding acting such as that on display here is surely the most important asset any picture can have. Regardless of how it fits into the general scheme of his work, Lang was right about Liliom. It is one of his best.