Mad love… A Santanotte (1922) with John Sweeney at Ciné Lumière

This was a rare screening as part of the Ciné Lumière’s The Wave: Italian Women Filmmakers season and it was a short, sharp shock of Neapolitan drama that, as accompanist John Sweeney pointed out, was reminiscent of Francesca Bertini’s Assunta Spina (1915) one of the major works of the classic Diva period of Italian film. Whereas the earlier film was ground-breaking, using edgy, improvised scenes against a backdrop of the Bay of Naples, A Santanotte (The Holy Night ) could be accused of being a little dated by this time but it is a powerful film none-the-less with much to admire including, of course, the ferocious poise and stark beauty of Rosè Angione as Nanninella.

 

The film is one of the few surviving examples of director Elvira Notari’s work and she certainly picked up the torch from Bertini and Gustavo Serena in terms of presenting Naples red in tooth and claw and very frequently in the background. There’s a real sense of place as well as authenticity and even though the story is based on a popular Neapolitan song, it certainly puts the opera into the soap. There may be an entire film PhD in the influence of national song on early cinematic narrative but this film is of the streets as well as on them with a heroine having to chose between rich comforts/poor love and being forced into a corner by the entitlement of her posh paramour, Gennariello (the director’s son, Eduardo Notari) who will stop at very little to have the one he shouldn’t have.

 

Rosè Angione, Alberto Danza and Naples

Another sidebar: why do we lap up songs and stories about the value of pure, unconditional love and end up allowing ourselves to be ruled by man like Gennariello? Just a thought especially in a hundred-year-old film made just as Il Dulce came to power in Italy, the ultimate loser narcissist who based part of his “act” on Italy’s superman, Maciste, a fictional character…

 

Anyway… our hero here is a young waitress who supports her wastrel of a father by working all the hours to keep in the stupor he has become accustomed to. Nominally a professional shoe-shine man, Daddy (Antonio Palmieri) drinks as he earns and spends most of his daytime sleeping off the night before.

 

Into their lives come two friends, Tore Spina (Alberto Danza) and Gennariello who both go to Nanninella’s window in an attempt to woo her. Tore is the more decisive and instantly connects with the young woman with his deep dark intensity and his winning words of song. Gennariello hangs back, he is not ennobled by love, only reduced, and can only watch as romantic alchemy happens in front of his very eyes and the two begin courting.

 

Rosè Angione, Alberto Danza and Eduardo Notari

What is a rich boy to do? Well, cheating is the first thing that comes to mind and spotting Drunken Dad, he soon hatches a plan that will rely on the lowest aspects of human motivation and we expect nothing less. Gennariello begins to buy the man drinks and to build his support for his candidature whilst undermining his friend Tore.

 

Meanwhile things are moving fast between Nanninella and Tore and she has soon impressed his mother (Elisa Cava, with a face like finely carved granite). She approaches Drunken Dad for his daughter’s hand but, having been thoroughly prepped by his generous wine merchant, he rebuffs her and ignores his daughter’s pleading as per normal.

 

Nothing can come between the lovers though and soon they are inseparable once again forcing Gennariello into framing his “pal” for the murder of Nanninella’s now dead, dead-beat Dad. She doesn’t believe it but the authorities do and the only way to clear her love’s name is to make the ultimate sacrifice and to force her selfish suitor to reveal all. It’s a long shot and… well, you know what Italian silents are like.

Caring for an abusive father.

There’s an interesting cameo from a young actor – an un-named acting student – playing Carluccio a shoe-shine boy who tries to help Nanninella and Tore. The lad does a grand job and pulls together the strands of what would otherwise be a slightly confused narrative: Gennariello takes advantage of a drunken slip and names the wrong guilty party but still the only way of getting the truth is the hard way.

 

Rosè Angione gives good Diva and has the most intense curls to go with her excellent arm-ography and physicality. As with all films of the classic Diva era, there’s no holding back and whilst she no Borelli or Bertini she is very watchable as are all the cast.

John Sweeney is, of course, the man for this tragi-comic dance and he treated us to a rich blend of poignant lines that blended perfectly with the performances and floated with seeming ease of conviction across the Bay of Naples and across the impressively cool lofty ceilings of the Ciné Lumière. Turns out Hot Media is the coolest thing to watch during a heat wave and John was on hot form too!

Arrested!

This “popular drama of passion” was one of Dora Film’s biggest hits and you can see why Elvira Notari became Italy's earliest and most prolific female filmmaker with over sixty feature films and about a hundred shorts and documentaries. She was a real renaissance woman with a degree in literature and a passion for dance too, she also married a cinematographer, Nicola Notari with whom she founded Dora Films before growing her own cast, well one of them at least. It’s a shame there not more of her work to see but what there is I look forward to watching.

 

Brava Ciné Lumière for screening this and John Sweeney for his accompaniment.

Marlene's Black Bottom... Café Elektric (1927), with John Sweeney, Ciné Lumière

This film is so well restored/preserved with a crispness that gives an impression that the performers have only just left the room and so it is a surprise to find that the last reel is missing. Even though we find out what happens from a closing intertitle it is sad that what remains is in good enough quality to make the whole enterprise appear so vibrantly extant.

 

Café Elektric is one of those many silent films Marlene Dietrich said she couldn’t remember making – she claimed just three at one point but it’s at least 19 – and whilst she’s not the main star she stands out not just for all tomorrow’s parts but for the visceral beauty that would lead to those future opportunities. Here she’s a spoilt rich girl who wants a walk on the wild side only to find she leads others into a world they can’t simply buy their way out of. We see her now through the afterglow of her unique star power and here, all foresight aside, is one special energy being displayed.

 

She’s far from alone in this film with Willi Forst displaying presence of his own as the petty criminal, Fredl. At the start of the film his character is shown stealing a woman’s purse and then makes light of the police chase through the streets of Vienna as he’s no doubt done many times before. Forst and Dietrich were appearing in the musical Broadway at the time which was her entre to this film and, apparently, she was almost dropped from the role until Forst insisted she stay*.

Willi Forst

We then switch to young Erni (Marlene) dancing rumbustiously to a jazz band with one of her many suitors, she’s got some moves and as her partner quips, dances very fast. Meanwhile her father, rich industrialist Göttlinger (Fritz Alberti), is flirting with his much younger lover (Anny Coty) which may be a comment on his hypocritical attitude – and yes, all men - to his daughter’s sexuality. He is interrupted by his architect Max (Igo Sym) who has the look of a man weighed down by the burden of working all the hours so that his boss can indulge himself.

 

Forst goes to spend his ill-gotten gains at the jazz club where, glancing around the room, his eyes chance upon a pair of stunning legs and there’s some in-camera trickery to give us his focused response to these shapely pins, just to emphasize the point. The limbs in question belong, naturlich, to Erni, and as Fredl instructs the band to play the Black Bottom, we see a faster and more furious display than the previous turn… and this time it is Erni’s turn to remark on the speed of the dance. Forst is, indeed, a quick mover and he gets a big tip and Erni’s phone number for his troubles.

 

Fredl heads off to the Café Elektric where he pimps off a number of women, including the experienced Paula (Vera Salvotti) and the innocent looking Hansi (Nina Vanna). Hansi’s very popular and there’s the sweet middle-aged Dr. Lehner (Wilhelm Völcker) with a soft spot for her… who may represent her potential for another life. Hansi’s tough and tries to shortchange Fredl but she’s still too young for this place, and not old enough for the possibility of escape…

 

Guess who?

Erni is supposed to go out with Max but can’t resist the chance to cheat by seeing Fredl. Telling Max she’s off to see a sick friend, she’s unfortunately spotted by the disconsolate designer leaving with Fredl. There’s a fascinating juxtaposition of the ex-couple’s evenings as Erni proceeds to get drunk on champagne with Fredl and Max meets Hansi and there’s a lovely exchange of chaste glances across the table before he finally cracks seeing a drawing she’s made on the table of them talking.

 

Fredl and Erin – shockingly – go back to his place but Hansi and Max go to see a Rin Tin Tin film at the Kino. As Erin gets dressed – no chance wasted to show Dietrich’s body in lingerie – Hansi and Max glance at a hotel before she tells him good night. A contrast in courtship you wouldn’t expect in a Hollywood film, especially one with Rin Tin Tin, although I’m sure Lubitsch could cover the same ground with cups and saucers…

 

Nina Vanna and Igo Sym

The contrasts in the relationships grow starker as Fredl asks Erni to get him money to cover his ill-gotten debts… she steals a ring and some money from her father’s safe. And now things get complicated… as the rich girl’s folly leads to Max being suspected of the theft when Göttlinger, in the midst of a drunken pass, notices the missing ring on Hansi’s finger after Fredl has gifted it to her in an attempt to win her affection, clearly as far as Erni goes, he's only in it for the money. The police are called and as things look bleak for Max, Hansi points the finger – literally – at Fredl, who is duly arrested and sent down.

 

Despite his innocence, Max is fired by mean old Göttlinger and lives with Hansi as he fruitlessly searches for a job as a journalist – I’m not sure why he chose not to continue with architecture… Will the couple go under before Hansi has to return to her old profession, can they survive together and will old scores be settled?

 

Café Elektric (1927) is thoroughly entertaining drama with Gustav Ucicky directing what could be an over-loaded narrative with clarity of purpose. He certainly gets the best out of his cast and the performances are of a high level, whilst we get some choice location shots and a real feel for the night life. The dance sequences are energetic and Erni and Fredl’s Black Bottom is Tik-Tok ready if you want to slow down the steps at the start. I think we need to see this on Strictly Come Dancing.

 

Of course, there’s few more accomplished accompanists for dance and John Sweeney did a spectacular job for the Black Bottom and the club scenes whilst illustrating the drama and comedy with a firm grasp of period as well as his practiced way with musical narrative. I love the space at the Cine Lumiere and John’s piano being also up on the stage gives the sound the chance to fully fill up the room.

 

I came to see Marlene but, as is always the case, there was so much else to enjoy. Merci beaucoup Ciné Lumière et l’ Institut français!

*As per this fascinating article at StummFilm Archiv.

Igo Sym, who taught Marlene to play the musical saw*...