"I love you. For the first time, I love someone.
And I do not care about everything else…"
Emmanuel College was founded in 1584 by Sir Walter
Mildmay, Chancellor of the Exchequer to Elizabeth I and as you walk past the
dining hall, originally the chapel of a Dominican Friary, (replaced by a
building commissioned from some bloke called Sir Christopher Wren), you’re so immersed in the
atmosphere that a late twenties silent film feels positively futuristic.
The silent film experience is that magical mix of venue, audience, music and film and all are inter-active and malleable
even the feeling on screen. Emmanuel’s theatre is a modern building tucked to
one side of the graceful old quads and it provides a perfect place to focus the
mind, comfortable seats, warm wooden finish and a Steinway grand for Stephen
Horne to play with.
Ace Weimar programmer, Margaret Deriaz, introduced with a natural warmth and enthusiasm few lecturers present; silent film is like a continuing
educational programme for the historically-fascinated and these films are unique primary sources that we not only read but experience in
places like this and with accompanists offering emotionally rich audio
commentary.
As Margaret said, Stephen Horne has an affinity with
Weimar film and that can only come from decades of accompaniment and research
into the area. Margaret herself is one of the leading experts on this period of
cinema and earlier this year programmed a superb series of Weimar films at the
BFI: one of the best I can remember.
Stellen Sie sich in einem Boot auf einem Fluss vor... |
Directed by Erich Waschneck with much excellent cinematography from Friedl
Behn-Grund, Docks of Hamburg is rich with location shots of the docks
and the St Pauli district, providing a view of Germany’s most vibrant port
before the War re-arranged things and the Beatles arrived 30 years later. There’s
also an audacious travelling shot of Willy Fritsch’s character as he walks through
the docks in search of his Jenny… it prefigures neorealism and so much film of
the early Beatle era.
The interiors and sleaze of St Paulis were also, as Margaret
pointed out, the result of Alfred Junge’s production design. He had also worked
for Ewald André Dupont on Moulin Rouge and Piccadilly and was to
enjoy a long career including working in Britain with Powell and Pressburger as
production designer on Colonel Blimp, A Canterbury Tale, I Know Where I’m
Going, A Matter of Life and Death and Black Narcissus. Well, he started
here.
The film is a loose reworking of Carmen with boats, not
bulls, and smugglers replacing toreadors. Willy Fritsch plays Klaus
Brandt, a naval seaman who has just been promoted to night watchman for his
ship, just as he has become engaged to his social climber girlfriend (Betty
Astor).
One night Klaus catches someone trying to break onto the
ship and, having caught the intruder, makes the classic error of assuming a hat
and trousers indicate a boy when really it’s a girl called Jenny (Jenny Jugo)
who, soaked to the skin, strips in front of his saucered eyes to dry off. After
the initial shock, Klaus is so won over by Jenny’s carefree, well, everything,
that he forgets fiancée and work, covering for her as the port authorities pass
by.
Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand: Herr Rasp und Jenny |
Jenny’s associated with a colourful gang of ne’er-do-wells
including Tonio Gennaro as Gentle Heinrich (definitely harder than he looks ),
Wolfgang Zilzer as The nipper (he’s young) and Fritz Rasp as The Doctor (probably
not medically trained) all of whom are looking for an opportunity to get
rich quick through smuggling, living off immoral earnings and extortion.
Jenny works in a nightclub as a hostess, dancer and
cyclist… racing other girls in a competition to show off their thighs in skimpy
bathing costumers with the winners of their sexy spin being pre-arranged. It’s
all part of a whir of activities to relieve distracted punters from their
hard-earned pfennigs either through drinking, gambling or the oldest transaction
in the world. Jenny is in the midst of this world but seems happy enough – this
is not the usual fallen woman, she’s more like Marlene’s Lola Lola.
By chance, Klaus bumps into Jenny outside of the club and
she explains what she does and invites him to see for himself… he’s smitten
and, for the first time in her life, Jenny is smitten too. This is Carmen but
not quite as we know it. Klaus sneaks off from his ship-mining to see Jenny
only to find that the Rats have broken onboard and stolen not only cash and
goods but also his chance of a career.
Sie hat eine Fahrkarte, um Fahrrad zu fahren - Jenny's in it to win it |
He tries again, this time getting a lowly job as a stoker
on a ship bound for Australia only to be drawn away again by Jenny’s charms…
All the while she keeps on working and, like Klaus, we aren’t sure if her
feeling for him are as deep as his for her. She meets with a couple of rich
handsome men, one an actual racing cyclist (Friedrich Benfer), and she’s whisked
away to posher nightclubs where they ply her with new clothes and champagne… Is
this what she really wants or is Klaus her heart’s desire?
Do they want to save each other or will this end as all Carmen
tales with the ultimate punishment for Jenny and Klaus on the rocks? I couldn’t possibly comment.
Willy and Jenny make for charming leads and Jugo is
indeed another “Earth Spirit” with a relaxed intensity and free expression
which raises her above the dirty doings all around. We can fully see why
Klaus would be drawn to this erotic firefly – throwing away his future and his fiancée,
in an effort to not only win Jenny’s heart but to save her from the life she’s
in.
"Sie liebt dich, ja, ja, ja!" |
Another smashing show in Emmanuel and the Cambridge Film
Festival remains one of the UK’s strongest for silent films and accompanists.
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