Lured is one of the films directed by Douglas Sirk in the 1940s after his arrival from Germany and before he began his long association with Universal. The production was put together by the independent producer Hunt Stromberg and distributed through United Artists in North America and the UK. Although filmed primarily on a studio lot in Hollywood, the film is in many ways a European production. It appears to be a remake of a French original Pièges (1939) directed by Robert Siodmak before he too went to Hollywood. The French film was given an English title of Personal Column and after its release, in the US, Lured was re-titled as Personal Column because the Production Code Office decided that ‘Lured’ was too much like ‘Lurid’! The UK release used Personal Column. Sirk judged that the title change was responsible for the film’s relative failure at the box office after a strong start.
Fortunately, the film has been restored and is now available on Blu-ray (along with A Scandal in Paris (1946), also by Sirk) from the Cohen Group (See the trailer below). It turns out to be highly entertaining and both witty and a genuine noir thriller. It features a lead performance by the fabulous Lucille Ball who has never looked lovelier or sparkled with such vitality and intelligence. She also gets to wear some great costumes. Stromberg surrounded her with an outstanding cast that would not have been out of place in an A List major studio picture. George Sanders, Charles Coburn, Cedric Hardwicke and Boris Karloff are joined by several of the other ‘Brits in Hollywood’. The film is photographed by the great William Daniels and the music is by Michel Michelet from the French original. Production design is by the Russian Nicolai Remisoff and the script was adapted from the French by the Polish émigré Leo Rosten. The narrative is set in London with Sandra (Lucille Ball) down on her luck and working as a ‘taxi dancer’ in a seedy dance hall after her American touring theatre show (she was a dancer) collapsed. When her friend Lucy goes missing after answering a ‘personal ad’ in the newspaper, Sandra goes to the police and finds herself being offered a job as a police detective by Charles Coburn’s Inspector. A serial killer is sending poems in the style of Baudelaire to Scotland Yard and each one signals a young woman’s disappearance. Sandra must answer any personal ads looking for young women, in the hope of ‘luring’ the killer out. Officer Barrett (a nicely-judged performance by George Zucco) is watching her all the time. Eventually, Sandra meets Robert Fleming (George Sanders), a nightclub owner looking to expand his business. She’s already come across him as looking for girls for his club. Is he to be trusted? Sandra takes to him, but are we sure he is kosher?
Sirk liked this production very much. Stromberg gave him a free hand and Sirk appreciated all the talent he had to play with – and in return, Lucille Ball and Charles Coburn relished the chance to play roles in a crime film. Sirk had worked with George Sanders on two previous American pictures and Sanders and Ball make a good couple. Hardwicke is excellent as Fleming’s partner in the club business. The studio sets are beautifully lit and this works as a noirish London serial killer narrative with Gothic overtones, enhanced by the sequence featuring Boris Karloff. I have been able to view both the version on YouTube and the trailer for the restoration/new print on DVD and to watch a version of the film on Talking Pictures TV. This latter is odd in a couple of respects. First, it appears to have lost 5 minutes at the beginning but which turns out to be not particularly a problem. Secondly, and weirdly, all the newspapers, poems and handwritten notes in the film are in French. The film also ends with the traditional French ‘FIN’. I don’t understand this at all. The film does use some stock footage of Piccadilly Circus and a London bus but why substitute the English language close-ups of newspapers etc. with French versions? The only explanation I can think of is that Talking Pictures TV have got hold of a French release copy of the film with the subtitles removed? If anyone knows the real answer, please comment on this post.
None of the quirks of the version I saw on Talking Pictures TV spoiled the film for me. I found it well worth watching and Lucille Ball was wonderful. It wasn’t what I was expecting from Sirk, but it stands up as a stylish Sirkian production.
This film by German-Turkish director Fatih Akin features a ‘powerhouse performance’ by Diane Kruger which won her the best female acting prize at Cannes in 2017. However, when the film went on release in the US and UK (it opened in UK cinemas in June 2018) it failed to do the business that a Cannes prizewinner might expect. Unfortunately that isn’t so unusual. Sometimes Cannes juries make poor choices. On this occasion though, the problem is elsewhere.
First, it’s an awful English language title. The original German title, which I would translate as ‘Out of Nothing’, is at least intriguing. Second, a brief plot outline suggests a conventional genre narrative and the film turns out to be something different. Diane Kruger plays Katja, the wife of Nuri (Numan Acar) a Turkish former drug dealer in Hamburg. She met him as a student buying dope and later married him when he came out of prison. He had been ‘clean’ and ‘straight’ for five years when he and the couple’s 5 year-old son are murdered. At this point Fatih Akin slows down the narrative and focuses on the shock and grief experienced by Katja. It is some time before the second part of the narrative (the film is split into three sections with title card headers) moves into the court case when the accused perpetrators appear in court. The third part goes on to address Katja’s reaction to the court’s verdict.
I can understand why some genre fans will feel disappointed by the film, but the focus is on Katja and Kruger’s performance, not revenge action. The story is inspired by real events in Germany that had a big impact on Fatih Akin and he wants to explore what those events mean for various characters rather than simply offer a form of crime action picture.
Diane Kruger is an attractive woman (she was originally a model, I think) and an accomplished actor. She represents the kind of European star familiar in the 1960s/70s but perhaps less so in contemporary cinema. She speaks French and English fluently and has appeared frequently in French and American cinema. Here she inhabits a character role. Dressed in jeans and leather jacket, with her hair straggly and her almost skeletal frame decorated with tattoos she is no glamour puss. It’s an intense performance which demands that we understand her grief and pain. She turns away her mother and her sister and the person she relies on most is her lawyer.
I found the court scenes very interesting. I don’t think I’ve seen a modern German court in action and I was reminded of the courtroom in the Danish drama A War (2015) in a similar setting. The two films are actually quite different but the austerity/plain décor of the courtroom is quite different from the traditional UK court with its ‘majesty’ and trappings of the ruling class. However, in the one weakness in the film’s casting, I found the defence counsel to be too much of a type, portrayed almost as a stereotypical skinhead bully. Not surprisingly, Katja finds the trial very difficult to cope with. I won’t spoil any of the narrative but it’s interesting that the ways in which the panel of judges comes to a decision reminded very much of the Japanese court in Kore-eda Hirokazu’s recent The Third Murder (Japan 2017). As in all courtroom dramas, there is always the possibility that there will be a tension between what we as the audience know, or think we know, about the crime committed and the proper procedures of a court of law where the judges may not have all the knowledge we, the audience, has.
Katja experiences trauma after the murder and it means that she ceases to menstruate. Towards the end of the narrative, after the courtroom drama she starts again. It appears to be a symbolic moment.
Aus dem Nichts is the kind of film that divides audiences. On IMDb there are ‘User Ratings’ of ‘1’ and also of ’10’. I would recommend the film but I beg you not to set up genre expectations of what you think might happen or what you might want to happen. If you simply approach the film with an open mind, prepared to go where it takes you, that is likely to provide you with the best experience. It’s an 18 film in the UK – because of the situation I think, rathe than what is actually depicted.
Lost is an interesting 1950s British film for several reasons. Perhaps the most interesting for me is that it is written by Janet Green. She began her film writing career with The Clouded Yellow, an excellent thriller with Trevor Howard and Jean Simmons in 1950. In the mid-1950s she wrote for various Rank productions and I realise that I described her career in more detail in my post on Eyewitness (1956). Lost comes from earlier in the same year and shares one of the actors, the American, David Knight. The film is in some ways a pre-cursor of Green’s three scripts for the crime thriller/social problem films she wrote for Michael Relph and Basil Dearden.
The film’s title refers to Simon, a baby in his pram taken from outside a chemist’s shop opposite Kensington Gardens. (The American title for the 1957 release by Republic Pictures was Tears for Simon.) The distraught parents are an American couple, Lee Cochrane (David Knight) and his German-born wife Sue (the Austrian actress Julia Arnall, recently signed by Rank). He works in the US embassy, she’s a designer and the child was in the care of a nanny. The investigating police officer is DI Craig played by David Farrar. Farrar had spent the previous few years on Hollywood ‘runaway’ productions in various parts of the world, playing second leads. Lost saw him back on a British production with top billing. The character doesn’t offer him much scope but he’s a solid presence and he does the grouchy, sardonic old pro very well. In the climax of the film he has a not very dignified action sequence to navigate.
One of Craig’s first tasks is to try to calm down the Americans, explaining that kidnapping babies is not a common occurrence in the UK. But despite warnings Cochrane and his wife are bent on following up leads themselves with predictable results. Green’s script goes whole-heartedly for the police procedural with Craig painstakingly exploring every possible clue, no matter how slight. This makes the film into a genuine ensemble piece with so many police officers and possible witnesses. There are familiar faces everywhere, both well-loved character actors and young players making early appearances in minor roles. Thora Hird is a landlady, Dandy Nichols is a shopkeeper, Joan Sims sells ice cream in the park (and flirts with Craig/Farrar), Barbara Windsor is trying different nail varnishes in the chemist’s shop, frustrating the chemist Joan Hickson. Shirley Anne Field appears in a garage. The most important supporting player is possibly Eleanor Summerfield playing a plain-clothes police sergeant who hints at a liking for Craig. Summerfield was a RADA-trained actor at home on the stage, TV, films and radio, but never in the major parts that she deserved. Perhaps it was the conservatism and sexism of a period in which filmmakers were nonplussed by relatively tall (5′ 6″) attractive women who could be both serious actors and comediennes.
As one IMDb reviewer has noted, Lost is unusual as a major crime drama shot in Eastmancolor in mid 1950s British cinema. This was only director Guy Green’s third film in that role and previously he had been a distinguished DoP. Here, with Harry Waxman behind the camera, the pair take their shoot all over London and into the Home Counties, offering an attractive and intriguing vision of the region at the time. It might be interesting to compare the London of Lost with Hitchcock’s remake of his own The Man Who Knew Too Much which opened nearly six months later in 1956. That film also features a kidnapping of a child in London and Hitchcock used the Albert Hall and street locations in Brixton and Camden, though he was certainly less interested in the kinds of realism found in much of 1950s British cinema. I did think of this Hitchcock film though, mainly in terms of Doris Day’s performance. There are aspects of Julia Arnall’s appearance that reminded me of Doris Day and even more of Grace Kelly in her three Hitchcock films (many others have made this connection). Ms Arnall didn’t have the acting skills or experience but she was beautiful and quite striking and it seems strange that Rank dropped her quite quickly after a further Guy Green film, before she could really develop her career.
Lost is solid entertainment and worth watching for David Farrar, one of my favourite British actors, and Eleanor Summerfield’s brief appearances as well as its fascinating views of London in the 1950s. I’m also interested now to go back to Sapphire (1959), Janet Green’s crime and racism story. I wonder what it would have been like if David Farrar had played the Nigel Patrick role? The film will no doubt re-appear soon on Talking Pictures TV. Unfortunately it’s cropped to Academy from the original 1:1.66 ratio.
Christmas Day this year meant our biennial treat at home with a digital projector, a screen and a DVD of the last film by François Truffaut. I’d not seen it before and I thoroughly enjoyed it despite having had too many glasses of wine. I’ve watched sequences again before starting this post.
I realise with horror that it is 50 years since I watched my first Truffaut, Baisers volés (1968), and I’ve grown old with the director’s alter ego Antoine Doinel. Over the years I have been mainly a faithful fan but occasionally I’ve become impatient with what I’ve seen as Truffaut’s failure to leave an adolescent view of women behind (which may also be a fear that I’m just as guilty). In this last film, which was released only a few months before his tragically early death, there are still traces of his adolescent desires but they are explored in a very playful narrative. Added to that, the film stars his then partner the terrific Fanny Ardant and mixes together the director’s ‘personal’ cinematic flourishes with his love for Hitchcock and film noir/pulp fiction- and touches on other ideas about genre. Truffaut’s script, co-written with long-term collaborators Suzanne Schiffman and Jean Aurel, is an adaptation of the ‘hard-boiled’ crime novel The Long Saturday Night (1962) by Charles Williams. It’s appropriate in a way that Truffaut’s final film returns him to the world of noir fiction associated with the idea of the polar in France. Wikipedia suggests that much more of Williams’ work is currently in print in France than in the US. Truffaut’s three earlier forays in adapting similar books are Tirez sur le pianiste (1960, based on a David Goodis novel), La mariée était en noir (1968, Cornell Woolrich) and La sirène du Mississippi (1969 again based on a Cornel Woolrich novel). These last two films both feature femmes fatales in the form of Jeanne Moreau and Catherine Deneuve. The difference in Vivement Dimanche! is that Fanny Ardant’s character is an investigator and we don’t think of her as possibly deceitful (though there are other women in the film who are). The film is also comic and almost surreal in certain scenes.
The film is set in Provence and begins with the murder of a duck hunter. We don’t get a good view of who pulls the trigger but suspicion immediately falls on Julien Vercel (Jean-Louis Trintignant) who has been hunting in the same area. He runs an estate agency (real estate) and on return from his hunting trip falls out with his secretary/receptionist/office manager Barbara (Fanny Ardant). The case against Vercel strengthens when it is revealed that the murdered man was sleeping with Vercel’s wife. As coincidences and connections pile up and more murders follow, Vercel is forced into hiding and Barbara becomes the effective investigator of the crimes.
Truffaut decided to make the film, shot by Néstor Almendros, in black and white. According to Serge Toubiana, in the introduction included on the DVD, this decision caused problems with French TV which co-funded the production and at the time was committed to ‘colour-only’ productions. Truffaut felt that colour on his earlier noirs in 1968/9 was a mistake and he was justified to a certain extent in that Vivement Dimanche! was commercially successful. He also urged Almendros to work quickly to create a ‘B movie look’. In doing so he seems to have adopted a certain view of Hollywood film noir (several ‘A movie’ noirs, especially from RKO, seem to have been viewed as ‘B’s). It also confuses Truffaut’s other aim which seems to have been to create a Hitchcockian ‘romance thriller’. This type of film is often defined by The 39 Steps (1935) or its later version, North by North West (1959). In these films the hero is falsely accused, goes on the run and is helped by a woman. The couple fall for each other, but not before they have fought and perhaps deceived each other unsure of the other person’s motives. The 39 Steps was a black & white Hitchcock, as were most of his films until the late 1940s. North by Northwest was widescreen and colour. Vivement Dimanche! melds some typical Hitchcockian use of close-ups and noir shadows with the more pulpish action of 1940s noir. Barbara at first seems to be in dispute with Julien but later becomes the active protagonist positively helping him. Truffaut’s regular composer Georges Delerue provides a score that is effective for suspense and danger but also for ‘romance’.
In the polar (roughly defined as the French crime film), there is often a specific relationship between the criminal protagonist and the police Inspector who is trying to catch him. The Inspector is also often a rather eccentric character. In Truffaut’s film, the chief police officer Santelli has his comedy moment when he fails to control the tap (faucet) on a wash basin, an incident which seems to confirm his status. The other added ingredient in the film is an amateur theatre troupe. Barbara is a member of the troupe and as well as comic interludes, her role in the current production provides her with a costume which she finds herself wearing during her sleuthing – and then being forced to cover up with a raincoat. Truffaut reportedly dreamed up the idea of the narrative when somebody said that images of Fanny Ardant in a raincoat in her previous Truffaut film La femme d’à côté (1981) reminded them of film noir.
I think what surprised me most about the film was Jean-Louis Trintignant’s performance as Julien. It seems rather stolid and lacking either the elegance of a Cary Grant or the vulnerability of a Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcockian versions of a similar character. But what it does do (presumably deliberately) is to thrown the spotlight on Fanny Ardant who is elegant, beautiful, resourceful and light-hearted – combining all the qualities of both partners in the Hitchcockian couple. Truffaut is often said to have favoured weak men and strong women and to have argued that stories need to be built around women rather than men. In Vivement Dimanche! he seemed finally to have found his female hero. Perhaps it is significant that at the end of the film, the line which I always associate with Truffaut, “Women are magic!”, is given to the murderer. Earlier in the film, Julien is seen staring at his wife’s legs as she fusses with her stockings a reference back to the almost fetishistic interest shown by Truffaut’s male characters in women who are often older or wiser. Fanny Ardant in heels is also taller than Jean-Louis Trintignant and reminds us of the scene in Baisers volés when Jean-Pierre Leaud’s Antoine Doinel walks with a woman who is a head taller. Other elements in the film linked to Truffaut’s personal interests include a popular cultural reference to pony-trap racing (trotting?) in Nice and a visit to the cinema which is showing Stanley Kubrick’s 1957 film Paths of Glory. Truffaut also repeats one of Godard’s questionable choices- asking his partner to play a prostitute, though in this case Fanny Ardant simply dresses appropriately in order to visit a red light district as part of her investigation.
The original novel was written in the 1960s and because of the choice of black & white and the avoidance of any modern(ist) architecture, I’m wondering if the film is meant to be set in the 1960s or to suggest the era. No doubt car enthusiasts could tell by the models on display. The Provence setting (IMDb suggests Hyères and Var as locations) makes me wonder whether some scenes were shot in the Victorine Studios in Nice (where Truffaut shot La nuit américaine in 1973) but research suggests that the studio was in a very bad way by 1983. Even so some scenes feel like they are studio sets, including Julien’s ‘hideaway’ in the back of his business premises. This is one of the surreal elements in the film as Truffaut’s mise en scène and camera movement makes it impossible to properly place how the back room leads into the front office (in other words it seems obvious that the police would search the building looking for him).
The plot extends the ‘long Saturday night’ or, at least, I think it does. The plotting is so loose that I wasn’t sure of the ‘story time’ or the geography of the events. The English-language title, Confidentially Yours seems almost meaningless. Despite this I think the film works very well as a stylish romp with Fanny Ardant excelling in her role. I must go soon to the previous Truffaut in which she stars as ‘the woman next door’.