Liliom (1934)
Directed by Fritz Lang

Film Review

It's a curious thing that, of all the many great films he made, the one that director Fritz Lang had a special affection for was one that almost everyone has forgotten about - his 1934 adaptation of Liliom, a once popular play by the Hungarian playwright Ferenc Molnár written in 1909.  Just a few years before this, Frank Borzage had adapted the same play, with Charles Farrell and Rose Hobart in the lead roles, and like Lang's film, his Liliom (1930) was a critical and commercial failure.  Molnár's play would doubtless have plumetted into obscurity had it not been revived by Rodgers and Hammerstein in the mid-1940s for their hit musical Carousel, which was made into a film in 1956.  All three of these films make uncomfortable viewing today, as they seem to make a virtue of domestic violence, but each has its own peculiar strengths.  In the case of Lang's film, a stiff dose of irony and some well-deserved digs at French bureaucracy just about redeem Molnár's ghastly play.

Lang was invited to direct the film by the German producer Erich Pommer during the brief time when both men were living in exile in France.  Lang had left Germany shortly after being offered the post of head of UFA film studio by Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's minister of propaganda.  After his contract with UFA was cancelled, Pommer moved to Paris to set up Fox Europa, for which he produced just two films: Liliom with Lang, and On a volé un homme (1933) with Max Ophüls.  Mindful of the threat of Nazi Germany, Lang and Pommer would leave Paris in the mid 1930s, the former heading to Hollywood, the latter to England.  Despite Lang's high regard for the film, Liliom was ill-received by the critics and was a box office flop, not even getting a national release in the United States.  The French Catholic church was particularly incensed by the film for its whimsical depiction of Heaven, and Molnár is reputed to have loathed the film.

Liliom certainly struggles to compare well when played alongside Lang's better known works - his silent masterpieces (Dr Mabuse, de Spieler (1922), Metropolis (1927)) and his American films noirs (The Woman in the Window (1945), The Big Heat (1953) - but it is not entirely lacking in artistry and charm.  Lead actor Charles Boyer is unintentionally hilarious as he dispenses with his customary debonair persona and instead proffers a Neanderthal's impression of Pierre Brasseur, although he ends up totally eclipsing his co-star Madeleine Ozeray, who is demure to the point of being almost invisible.  The script is dull, verbose and poorly paced, and it isn't until Boyer is whisked off to Heaven by some sinister looking judicial henchmen (they call themselves Police de Dieu but they look more like Gestapo agents who have a habit of overdoing the eyeshadow) that the film finally comes to life.   Some of the more surreal elements of this film appear to have found their way into Jean Cocteau's Orphée (1949).

As falling foul of French bureaucracy is the nearest we can get to the concept of eternity in this world, it is of course natural that Heaven's waiting room should be represented as a French police station, staffed by a time-wasting functionary with a mania for procedure and a fetching pair of angelic wings.  Drawn out and predictable, this sequence is only funny because it replays almost exactly an earlier scene (on Earth) which was not remotely funny the first time round.  Weirdly effective though the Heaven-based sets and costumes are, there is a blatant cheapness about them.  The sets are bounded by black drapes, purgatory is represented by a bland door marked "Purgatoire" and the devil turns out to be a fat bare-chested satyr with woolly legs.  It's fortunate that Lang had a cinematographer of the calibre of Rudolph Maté, otherwise the film would have looked horribly cheap and tacky.  Of particular note is the sequence in which Boyer is carried off to Heaven, which is simple but startlingly effective.

Whereas Frank Borzage sought his own romantic interpretation of Molnár's play, Lang (aided by screenwriter Robert Liebmann) went for tongue-in-cheek irony.  If Lang had had greater input into the script, his Liliom could well have ended up as an outright black comedy.  As it is, the humour takes a long time to come through and after the film's stilted and languorous first half it seems strangely out of place, looking as if Lang suddenly decided midway through production "I've had enough of this boring [insert expletive], let's make it funny".  It's a fascinating exercise to compare Borzage and Lang's takes on Liliom and see how these two films reflect their very different characters and views on human nature.  What the films have in common is an upbeat ending (absent from Molnár's original play) which leaves habitual wife and child beaters with the consoling thought that they won't automatically go to Hell.  Heaven knows why Lang was so fond of this film but watching Charles Boyer play the sinewy ape has its rewards.

Film Synopsis

Liliom Zadowski is a carousel barker whose two favourite pastimes are fighting and womanising.  His employer Madame Muscat dismisses him when she sees him flirting with a maid named Julie.  Liliom and Julie end up living together in a trailer, the former living off his partner's meagre earnings as a photographer.  When he learns that Julie is pregnant, Liliom is easily persuaded by a friend to rob a payroll clerk.  The robbery fails and, cornered by the police, Liliom stabs himself to death.  Finding himself at a police station in Heaven, Liliom is chastised for the brutal and selfish way he has treated the one who loves him.  After sixteen years in purgatory, he is permitted to return to earth for one day to decide whether he should end up in Heaven or Hell...