Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 (1959)

Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 (Dangerous Liaisons 1960) is a very early Roger Vadim film, released in 1959. It is based on Choderlos De Laclos’s scandalous 1782 novel.

Roger Vadim is one of the greatest and one of the most despised of French film directors. Critics who doted on the Nouvelle Vague (New Wave) directors regarded Vadim with contempt. He was a skilful director who made polished professional movies with style and wit. Directorial skill, polish, professionalism, style and wit were things that enraged the devotees of the Nouvelle Vague.

To compound his already numerous sins Vadim has no interest in making overtly political films. He had no ideological axes to grind. Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 is not about politics, and it is not about sexual politics in the way that feminists and ideologically driven film critics understand the term. Vadim is interested in a much more important subject - love. It’s about how love turns to hate and hate turns to love, it’s about the joys and sufferings that men and women bring each other. It’s about love considered as a game. It’s the most dangerous game of all, and therefore the most exciting. It’s certainly about sex, but it’s more interested in the exquisite pleasures and pains that treating love and sex as games can bring.

Valmont (Gérard Philipe) and his wife Juliette (Jeanne Moreau) are expert players in these games. Their favourite games involve adultery and seduction. You cannot hope to understand this movie unless you realise that they are both predators. They are predators of a peculiar type - they hunt as a pair. They both participate in the hunts, and they both get equal pleasure from making the kill. Juliette is not a victim of so-called gender roles or gender expectations. She is a ruthless huntress.

Both Valmont and Juliette ignore all the established social, sexual, more and cultural rules. That is the theme of the movie - what if the game of love could be played without any rules? What if we freed ourselves from these rules? What if the only objective of the game was pleasure? Not just sexual pleasure, but the pleasure of playing the game.

Juliette is of course having an affair. Naturally she tells her husband all the details.

Valmont has his eyes on some promising prey, in the person of Cécile (Jeanne Valérie). Cécile thinks she is a sophisticated young woman of the world. She has two fiancées. She is however a mere child compared to Valmont and Juliette. They’re both going to enjoy this hunt.

Then even more promising prey appears on the scene - Marianne Tourvel (Annette Vadim). Marianne is a happily married young woman who is faithful to her husband. Valmont’s seduction of her will be even more exciting, for both Valmont and Juliette. Juliette loves hearing all the intimate details of the chase and the kill.

But even for expert players this game can be hazardous. That of course is its appeal. Without the danger there would be no thrill.

This movie has nothing whatever to do with gender. Juliette is not rebelling against traditional gender roles or gender expectations. Both Valmont and Juliette are rejecting ALL moral, social and sexual roles. The original novel was written in 1782, which happens to be the year that the Marquis de Sade began his literary career. This is no coincidence. Both Choderlos De Laclos and de Sade were expressing the scepticism about moral rules that was increasingly popular among intellectuals. This was the beginning of a new attitude towards morality - that nothing mattered other than the pursuit of pleasure. They were not in revolt against bourgeois morality because bourgeois morality did not yet exist, for the very good reason that the bourgeoisie did not yet exist. Choderlos De Laclos and de Sade were expressing what was essentially an aristocratic contempt for moral rules.

This is quite evident in the movie. The outlook of Valmont and Juliette is essentially aristocratic. The movie actually has a strong Sadeian flavour. It has quite a bit in common with some of Jess Franco’s later de Sade-influenced movies such as Cries of Pleasure.

Of course by the time the film was made bourgeois morality did exist. Valmont and Juliette are certainly rejecting that morality, but their rebellion is from an aristocratic standpoint, not a modern ideological standpoint. This is not a feminist film, although modern critics twist themselves into knots trying to apply anachronistic feminist interpretations to movies of the past.

And Vadim upsets modern critics and film scholars by not actually condemning bourgeois morality. The villains in this movie are the ones who reject such rules and pursue only their own pleasures.

All of the performances are impressive. Gérard Philipe and Jeanne Moreau have the more showy roles but Jeanne Valérie and Annette Vadim give beautifully judged subtle performances.

Like a lot of Vadim’s movies this one confuses modern critics by ignoring ideology. A complex intelligent provocative movie. Very highly recommended.

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman (1951)

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman stars James Mason and Ava Gardner. It is one of those movies that challenges easy genre classification. It’s certainly a romance movie, albeit an unconventional one. Is it also a fantasy movie? Whatever it is it’s strange and disturbing and very unusual.

This is a movie in which the ending is revealed right at the beginning but given people’s sensitivities about spoilers I will still try to avoid them.

This British movie takes place in Spain during the early 1930s, in the Mediterranean seaport of Esperanza. The story is mostly seen through the eyes of middle-aged literary-art historian/archaeologist Geoffrey Fielding (Harold Warrender). Pandora (Ava Gardner) is a singer, but mostly she breaks men’s hearts. Men have died for love of her. Literally died. It would be tempting to see her as a wicked temptress and her odd reactions to things lead many people to see her as a heartless bitch. Pandora is however more complicated than that.

She is a very complicated woman indeed. She has never loved a man but she is in love with love. She is also perhaps in love with death.

Stephen Cameron (Nigel Patrick) is in love with her. He is a racing car driver. He has built a car with which he hopes to break the world land speed record. His car means more to him than anything else in the world, except for Pandora.

Then a yacht arrives in the harbour. Pandora does what any normal woman would do. She takes off all her clothes and swims out to the yacht. She hasn’t been invited but is it likely that anyone will be annoyed to have a nude Ava Gardner suddenly emerge from the sea?

The strange thing is that there is no crew. Just the yacht’s skipper, a Dutchman named Hendrick van der Zee (James Mason). Hendrick is just completing a portrait of Pandora although he has never set eyes on her before. He almost seemed to be expecting her arrival, which is of course impossible.

Coincidentally Geoffrey has just come across a manuscript written in 17th century Dutch purporting to be the memoirs of the fabled Flying Dutchman. He can read Dutch but he is having trouble with this archaic form of the language. Oddly enough Hendrick can read it with ease. In fact it’s as if he doesn’t need to read it. He already knows what it contains. Which is impossible.

Geoffrey knows that Hendrick cannot possibly be the Flying Dutchman. That’s just a legend. But he is puzzled and disturbed.

Pandora accepts Stephen’s proposal of marriage. Stephen does have a rival, matador Juan Montalvo (Mario Cabré).

With Hendrick’s arrival there may be another rival on the scene. The attraction between Hendrick and Pandora is obvious, but it’s a mysterious sort of attraction. It’s as if they both have a destiny they cannot escape.

James Mason is excellent as the troubled rather tragic Hendrick, and playing troubled tragic romantic leads was certainly something Mason did well.

This picture however belongs to Ava Gardner. Hers is the standout performance and Pandora is the most interesting character. She perfectly captures the disturbing quality of Pandora. She is clearly attracted to men who flirt with death, such as racing car drivers and matadors. Whenever one of these men is in danger of sudden violent death Pandora is visibly excited. It’s obviously sexual excitement, but perhaps more than that.

There’s a wonderful scene early on in which she asks Stephen to make a sacrifice for her, a very big sacrifice. She doesn’t love the man. It is simply a test of the strength of his love. Or perhaps it is a test of the power of love. This is in fact the theme of the whole movie - how much will a person give up for love? Stephen makes the sacrifice. Pandora’s reaction is orgasmic. The scene is charged with dangerous unhealthy obsessive eroticism. Gardner handles it superbly. She makes her excitement obvious without being crass.

Do not get the idea that Pandora is evil or a femme fatale. It’s not that simple. She is the woman she is. She is perhaps driven by fate. She is driven by the need for love, and it has to be overwhelming love. She never loses our sympathy. We are unsettled by her, but fascinated.

Jack Cardiff did the cinematography which is, as you would expect, magnificent. He really brings out the feline quality in Ava Gardner.

The big question of course is whether there is really anything supernatural going on. Is Hendrick really the Flying Dutchman? That question is answered but obviously I’m not going to reveal the answer.

This is an insanely romantic love story but it’s a movie about death and fate as well as love.

This is a strange but brilliant movie. Very highly recommended.

The Screenbound Blu-Ray is barebones but looks pretty good.

Le Boucher (1970)

Le Boucher (The Butcher) is a 1970 Claude Chabrol film.

Chabrol was associated with the French New Wave (Nouvelle Vague). He was a fanatical admirer of Hitchcock. You’ll often find him described as the French Hitchcock. Having seen half a dozen of his movies I have no idea why anyone would see him as a French Hitchcock. In the films of his that I’ve seen Chabrol’s approach does not even slightly resemble Hitchcock’s.

That’s not intended as a criticism of Chabrol. Just because he admired Hitchcock does not mean that he wanted to slavishly copy Hitchcock’s techniques. Chabrol had his own ideas on how to make movies. Whether or not you think they were good ideas is up to you, but they were his own ideas.

Hitchcock’s approach to suspense was invariably to give the audience vital information denied to the protagonist. That creates fear by making us fearful on behalf of the protagonist - we know he is in danger but he doesn’t know that.

In this movie we know only what the protagonist knows. We discover things as she discovers them.

Helen (Stéphane Audran) is the school headmistress in a small French town. At a wedding she meets the local butcher, Popaul (Jean Yanne). They flirt in a tentative way. A day or so later they have dinner together. There’s obviously some attraction there, and they like each other. Helen is not the sort of woman who jumps straight into bed with a man. Popaul is not the sort of man who expects a woman to do that. He behaves like a perfect gentleman. They start to become fond of one another but they’re both taking things slowly. We slowly come to like both of them as well.

What I like is the way Chabrol focuses for so much of the movie on this slowly blossoming romance between Helen and Popaul. The unsettling elements are introduced in the background and appear to have no connection whatsoever with these two people.

We get a wonderful idyllic scene of the children playing in the schoolyard supervised by their pretty young headmistress. She obviously loves the children and they love her. This is a peaceful harmless sleepy little town.

Then we see the two black police vans pull up in the background, and the gendarmes have a police dog with them. A police dog always means something very bad - perhaps a missing child, perhaps a search for a body.

We find out, purely because one of the kids has heard this from his dad, that the dead body of a woman has been found in the woods. This has nothing to do with our two tentative lovers but we are now just a little uneasy.

The unease slowly builds as Helen discovers something that may be a clue or it may not be. We know no more about it than Helen does.

But we are getting worried. There are more murders.

There are a couple of lovely visual moments - the dripping blood scene is superbly done.

While it’s not a Hitchcock-style thriller there is an intriguing echo of Vertigo - the shots of the back of Stéphane Audran’s dead, focusing on her hair, mirroring those famous shots of Kim Novak in Vertigo. Given Chabrol’s fondness for Hitchcock it’s a certain that he added these shots as a playful reference. Chabrol liked playing cinematic games.

And Stéphane Audran is the Hitchcock Ice Blonde type, so it works.

This is very much a slow-burn thriller.

There isn’t much actual suspense, in fact hardly any. But there is a growing sense of dread. In that respect this movie perhaps functions more like a horror movie than a thriller.

Don’t think of this as a Hitchcock-style thriller. Just enjoy it as a Chabrol movie. It’s a very good Chabrol movie. Highly recommended.

The old Pathfinder DVD offers a perfectly acceptable 16:9 enhanced transfer. The availability of Chabrol’s movies in English-friendly versions has always been rather spotty.

I’ve also reviewed Chabrol’s fascinating but eccentric The Champagne Murders (1967) and the extremely interesting Innocents With Dirty Hands (1975).

To Have and to Hold (1963)

To Have and to Hold is a 1963 entry in the Merton Park cycle of British Edgar Wallace B-movies. This one was scripted by Jimmy Sangster and directed by Herbert Wise.

Sergeant Fraser (Ray Barrett) is an ordinary cop, a detective. He’s given a very easy job to do - to convince a woman that her ex is not really intending to murder her. But Claudia (Katharine Blake) sounds so convincing and she’s clearly genuinely frightened. Fraser allows her to persuade him to stay for dinner. They agree to meet for lunch the next day.

Fraser hasn’t done anything seriously wrong but taking the risk of becoming personally involved in a case like this is perhaps a little unwise.

Fraser had no intention of getting personally involved at all but sometimes a man meets a woman and he just gets drawn into things. He’s not even sure why Claudia fascinates him. She is charming but perhaps it’s something else. Perhaps its’s just a natural masculine reaction - a frightened woman who may be in danger and he starts to feel protective.

The involvement proves to have been very unwise. This was not such a trivial routine matter after all. And Fraser is in the middle of it and his life is getting just a bit out of control.

Then the plot twists start to kick in. Fraser is really in a muddle now. He thinks he knows what is going on but he is personally involved and he could be totally wrong.

His boss, Detective Inspector Roberts (William Hartnell), isn’t overly pleased with him. Roberts believes Fraser is a good cop and he doesn’t want to see the younger man doing anything to wreck his career.

Fraser also has Lucy (Patricia Bredin) to consider. Lucy is his girlfriend, or was his girlfriend and maybe still is.

Jimmy Sangster was always a reliable writer and he’s come up with a very solid screenplay here. Herbert Wise was already an experienced television director and while the low budgets on these Edgar Wallace movies didn’t allow much scope for doing anything fancy he shows himself to be perfectly competent.

Australian actor Ray Barrett was always worth watching and he gives an effective low-key performance here, doing just enough to let us know that Fraser is confused and upset and that his judgment might not be as sound as usual.

Katharine Blake is fine as the woman.

William Hartnell is as always a delight. His inspector is not quite the usual crusty bad-tempered old cop with a heart of gold. Right from the start his attitude towards Fraser is more that of an indulgent uncle. Barrett and Hartnell are terrific in their scenes together.

The one weakness is that the script glosses over a couple of points and that ends up stretching credibility just a little. I found myself mystified that these things were left hanging.

On the whole though it’s enjoyable and nicely twisted.

As usual it’s widescreen black-and-white, a format of which I’m quite fond.

This is included in Network’s Edgar Wallace Collection Volume 5 DVD boxed set. And as usual the transfer is excellent.

Whistle Stop (1946)

Whistle Stop is a 1946 film noir starring George Raft and Ava Gardner.

Mary (Ava Gardner) arrives back in her home town. Ashbury is a small town with the railway station being its only valid reason for existence. Throughout the movie we hear train whistles in the background. Trains play a vital part in the story. This is not a train thriller in the sense of taking place on a train but the railroad is always a presence.

Mary had gone to Chicago in search of glamour, excitement and money. She found those things and she found disillusionment.

She has returned to see Kenny (George Raft). Kenny is a rudderless loser but she has always loved him. Kenny has never been motivated to find a job although he can always summon up the motivation to find a card game or a beer joint. Maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a loser if Mary had stayed. Or maybe he would have. Maybe Mary just couldn’t see a future with him.

There’s a complication, in the person of Lew Lentz (Tom Conway). Lew is a rich businessman. He’s not a mobster but we get the impression that his business methods are ruthless and may be at times just a tad ethically slippery. Lew has always wanted Mary. Given that Kenny and Lew both love Mary it’s hardly surprising that the two men are at daggers drawn.

Another complication is Gitlo (Victor McLaglen). He’s Kenny’s buddy but he works for Lew. Lew knows something about Gitlo which gives him a hold over the man. Gitlo hates and resents Lew, but he grovels to him.

Kenny is convinced that Mary would choose him over Lew if only he had lots of money. Lew has lots of money. He carries large amounts of money on the train to Detroit. It would not be difficult to rob him. Kenny is a loser but he’s not a criminal. But he is tempted. He wants Mary so badly.

So we have a classic film noir setup, with Kenny as the potentially easily manipulated schmuck, the typical noir protagonist. And with Mary as the classic femme fatale.

And that’s why so many people misunderstand this movie and are unable to appreciate it. They want to view it through a noir lens. They forget that nobody in Hollywood in 1946 had the remotest idea what film noir was so they were not conscious of the need to follow the conventions of a genre that did not exist. The makers of this movie were making a movie that combines crime thriller and melodrama elements. The fact that it happens to contain so many of what are now seen as essential noir ingredients does not imply that is is is film noir. It can be seen as conforming to some of the modern expectations of noir, but not all of them. It also conforms to some of the conventions of melodrama.

Director Léonide Moguy and screenwriter Philip Yordan knew what they were doing, but what they were trying to do was not necessarily what modern critics would have liked them to do.

Every online review I’ve read complains that Mary’s motivations for leaving Chicago remain unexplained. I can only assume that these reviewers are used to modern Hollywood spoon-feeding them. They need everything explained in detail, with diagrams. Her reasons are obvious, and are made obvious. She had been a kept woman, and she grew tired of feeling like a whore.

The same reviewers complain that Lew’s motivations for hating Kenny are unclear. They are perfectly clear. He wants Mary. He knows that Mary feels an incredibly strong sexual attraction to Kenny. Lew might be able to buy Mary but she will never want him with that aching desperate sexual need she feels for Kenny. That’s a blindingly obvious motivation.

I’m a huge George Raft fan and he is excellent here. It’s a typical effective low-key George Raft performance. There’s some self-pity in Kenny, some bitterness and plenty of jealousy. But he has settled into a loser pattern of life.

Tom Conway as Lew is fine. He makes Lew sinister but without making him a straightforward villain. Victor McLaglen is quite effective in getting across Gitlo’s simmering resentment, the resentment of a coward.

Ava Gardner gives the standout performance. Mary is a complex woman. She seems to be a femme fatale but we can’t be sure.

Raft and Gardner have no trouble convincing us that for all their doubts and hesitations and conflicts Kenny and Mary just can’t stop wanting each other.

You can see early on where the story is going, but that isn’t where it’s really going. You can see early on what the character arcs are going to be for all the players in this dramas, but the script has some surprises for us.

I liked Whistle Stop a lot. Just try to approach it without getting too locked-in to genre expectations. Highly recommended.

Hold Back Tomorrow (1955)

Hold Back Tomorrow was produced, directed and written in 1955 by Hugo Haas, a filmmaker who is arguably unfairly overlooked. It’s one of several Haas movies which starred Cleo Moore.

It’s a movie that had to tread fairly carefully to avoid the ire of the Production Code Authority.

A killer named Joe Cardos (John Agar) is to be hanged the following morning. The warden tells him he can have a last request. No matter what it is it will be granted. Joe asks for a woman for the night.

The warden is horrified but feels that he has no choice. The cops are given the job of finding Joe a woman.

That proves to be rather difficult. Most girls are not keen on the idea of spending the night with a guy who is about to be hanged for strangling three women. Even ladies known to have flexible moral standards are not interested.

Finally they get a lead on a girl who might be a possibility. The proprietress of an escort service suggests that Dora (Cleo Moore). Dora is down so low and is so desperate she would do anything for money, and since there will be two hundred bucks in it for her she might say yes.

We have already been introduced to Dora, in the movie’s effectively moody doom-laden opening sequence. She was trying to drown herself. She really is at rock bottom. Not surprisingly she says yes. She hates the idea but she hates life and she hates herself and she hates everything and she figures she’s got nothing left to lose.

Dora and Joe don’t exactly hit it off at first. Eventually they begin to talk. About their pasts. About why their lives have been so disastrous. I can’t say too much more without risking spoilers.

Almost the entire movie is shot on a single set, Joe’s cell. By its nature it’s a very talky movie. It also inevitably has a slightly artificial feel but that works to the film’s advantage - it’s as if for one night these two people are locked in their own private world.

And it is totally focused on Joe and Dora. That puts a lot of pressure on the lead actors. They carry it off pretty well. John Agar plays Joe as a man filled with seething resentment and he does a decent job.

Cleo Moore never quite made it to the top as an actress. She didn’t quite have that extra something that transforms a promising actress into a genuine A-list star. I’ve seen a few of her movies and she was always quite competent. This is by far the best performance I’ve seen from her. She’s very very impressive and never makes the mistake of pushing things too far. Dora is not a woman likely to have an emotional meltdown or burst into tears. For her it’s much too late for that. Moore captures her mix of resignation and despair exceptionally well.

Now back to my earlier point about this movie’s fascinating attempts to sidestep the Production Code. First off, what would a guy in Joe’s position want to do with a dame on his last night on earth? Maybe he’d like to play gin rummy, or talk about literature, but even in 1955 no audience was going to buy that. But of course there was no way the movie could suggest that he might want to have sex with her. Perish the thought. Joe just wants a woman to talk to. It kind of works but it is obviously a bit unlikely, especially given that Dora is a stunning blonde and is wearing a slinky dress.

When the cops talk to the woman who runs the escort service Haas is careful to make sure we see a prominently displayed sign which explains that the agency provides girls as dancing partners only, but at the same time we get the very strong impression that these young ladies are call girls.

Of course when the cops had trouble finding a girl to agree to share Joe’s cell on his last night the obvious thing would have been to look for a prostitute. Even if it was going to be made clear that no hanky-panky was going to happen it would be fairly obvious that a prostitute would be more likely go for such an idea than a respectable girl.

And at this point it would seem that Haas decided to take a risk. He threw in a line that tells us that Dora is in fact a call girl. It’s just one line and presumably he hoped that somehow the Production Code Authority (PCA) would miss it. And apparently they did. So Dora is indeed a prostitute, and we also learn (in that same single line of dialogue), that like most such girls she’s been persecuted by the criminal justice system and that might well explain why she’s been reduced to poverty and despair. All of which means that her character makes more sense, and her actions make more sense.

Haas was clearly trying to make a grown-up movie and to a surprising extent he succeeds. He knew that the really grown-up stuff would have to be limited to one or two crucial lines of dialogue that the PCA might not notice. My interpretation of this movie is to a large extent based on these throwaway lines, but given that Haas had by this time been writing and directing movies for 30 years I figure that if he included a line of dialogue he did so for a reason. There’s that one line that suggests that Dora is probably a call girl. There’s another line that indicates that Dora assumes that Joe’s murders were sexually motivated, that he strangled women because that was the only way he could get sexual pleasure.

What’s really interesting is that Dora simply doesn’t care if Joe kills her for his sexual pleasure. To her that would be a fitting end to her life.

The prison authorities leave Dora completely alone in the cell with Joe. There’s not even a guard posted outside. He could do anything he wanted to her. That’s obviously a bit of dramatic licence, no prison warden would allow such a thing, but it’s dramatically necessary. We have to believe that Dora’s life is in Joe’s hands.

This is a story of a man in need of redemption, but he doesn’t know it. And a woman in need of a meaning to her life, but she doesn’t know it. You’ll have to watch the movie to find out whether either achieves those goals.

This is a slightly odd movie but it’s engrossing. Highly recommended.

It’s included in Kino Lorber’s Film Noir: Dark Side of Cinema XVII boxed set although of course it isn’t film noir.

I’ve reviewed a couple of Cleo Moore’s other movies - One Girl’s Confession (1953) and Over-Exposed (1956).

Anna Boleyn (1920)

I’ve been watching lots of early Ernst Lubitsch silent movies. At this stage of his career the man was a crazed visionary genius. You just never knew what he’d come up with next but you know it would be weird and exciting. Which may be why I was disappointed by Anna Boleyn (1920). I wasn’t prepared for a very conventional historical melodrama.

It starts of course with Henry VIII (Emil Jannings) becoming obsessed with his queen’s new lady-in-waiting Anne Boleyn (Henny Porten). The king is also concerned that his queen, Catherine of Aragon, has only given him a daughter and is clearly not going to have any more children. Henry feels that he absolutely must have a male heir. From the point of view of the future stability of his kingdom he is quite justified in fearing that a female heir might not be strong enough to hold on to her crown. So Henry is motivated both by lust and by reasons of state and the movie succeeds in making that clear.

English church leaders are willing to grant Henry an annulment but this is blocked by the Pope, which leads Henry to declare himself head of the Church of England. Now he can free himself of Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne. The movie takes no interest in the details of these church and political dramas - the focus is on the human dramas.

Anne already has a young man with whom she is in love. That will lead to problems. Anne produces an heir but it’s a girl. Queen Anne is accused of adultery and we all know what happened to her next.

Of course such a familiar story can only be made interesting if we get a sense of the personal motivations of these people. This movie does make some attempt to do this, and to be a character-driven historical film.

Jane Seymour is definitely cast as the villainess in this movie. She’s a ruthless schemer. She is motivated by pure ambition and has no scruples.

We never really get a totally clear sense of the King’s motivations. Obviously he’s motivated partly by reasons of state. And partly by lust. As to whether he feels any genuine love for Anne, we have to be pretty sceptical. It’s not easy to make Henry VIII a sympathetic character and this movie makes no real attempt to do so.

Anne Boleyn is of course the primary focus and she has at least some complexity. She comes across as a woman swept along by events. She knows she should resist the King’s advances (she’s in love with another man) but lacks the strength of character to do so. While the movie suggests that she is not actually unfaithful to the King she is somewhat indiscreet, and a queen cannot afford to be indiscreet. A queen must be above suspicion. She really has no idea how vulnerable a queen is to malicious accusations, or how dangerous her position could become.

Of course no-one could really have predicted Anne’s fate. Henry was now head of the Church of England. He could have divorced her for adultery. In reality Anne was under suspicion of treason, which would certainly have given the King grounds to have her executed (assuming there was any validity to the charge). The movie makes no mention of this, which is interesting. This may have been deliberate. The movie seems to intend to portray Henry as a man so corrupted by power that he will have a woman executed purely out of personal spite.

It’s also clear that the movie is intent on portraying Anne as a tragic victim (which she may or may not have been in reality). Whether the Anne Boleyn of the movie actually loves the King remains uncertain, perhaps because her feelings really are conflicted. Initially she is both horrified and flattered (mostly horrified) by his attentions but she is quite attracted by the idea of becoming queen.

I’m not much of an Emil Jannings fan but he’s perfectly cast here. One major problem is Henny Porten’s lifeless performance as Anne. No matter how hard the movie tries to make her the sympathetic heroine it’s hard to care about such a dull character. She is totally overshadowed by Aud Egede-Nissen as Jane Seymour - Jane is a bad bad girl but she’s lively and much more fun to watch.

It’s by no means a bad movie and my disappointment with it is mainly due to my hopes that we would see more of the wild imagination and visual splendour of Lubitsch’s other movies of this period. Anna Boleyn doesn’t really feel to me like a Lubitsch film. There’s no trace of the famed Lubitsch Touch.

Overall I thought Anna Boleyn fell a bit flat. It’s a by-the-numbers historical tragic romance epic and it just lacks the necessary vital spark.

This is included in several Lubitsch in Berlin boxed sets (both DVD and Blu-Ray). They’re worth buying because the other early Lubitsch movies are so fabulous. If you’re buying the boxed set anyway give Anna Boleyn a look by all means but set your expectations fairly low.

I’ve reviewed some of Lubitch’s wild crazy early movies (all of which are better than this one) - The Doll (Die Puppe, 1919), The Wildcat (1921) and Sumurun (1920).