This fascinating new collection compiles four German black and white comedies from the early years of the sound era, 1931-32. In the waning days of the Weimar Republic, the German film industry was stacked with great talent and healthy budgets, resulting in these impeccably crafted and broadly entertaining films. Now they also serve as a time capsule of a carefree, glamorous era just before the onset of the Third Reich.
Buy Champagne & Caviar: Four Weimar Comedies Blu-rayPrivate Secretary is a musical romantic comedy about a young woman who tries to get ahead in the secretarial pool of a large bank. When the bank director falls for her charms, he pretends to be a common employee in order to spend time with her as equals, leading to light humor as he tries to maintain his cover and she frets about not finding a wealthier match. The bank director is very much like Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music when he finally reveals his identity, all authoritarian posturing with a bemused grin as he falls further under her spell. This film has the most songs of any film in the set, but it’s still far short of what would really be considered a true musical.
In Upright Sinner, a buffoonish bank cashier is tasked with bringing a large sum of cash to his boss for use on a trip to Vienna. Due to reasons, he misses the local handoff, so desperately travels to Vienna with an even more clueless assistant to prove his loyalty and complete his mission. It’s Dumb and Dumber: Weimar edition, as the dummkopfs keep finding ways to screw up but still somehow come out ahead. The film soars on the slapstick antics of lead dummy Max Pallenberg, the picture of sweaty, bug-eyed desperation as his character gets mistaken as a dignitary, gets charged for an extravagant dinner party in error, and experiences the highs and lows of gambling. It’s also packed with surprising touches, including an African American nightclub band whose Josephine Baker-esque singer gets enmeshed in the plot, as well as shockingly surreal dream imagery. I enjoyed the unhinged performances in this one the most, but the most rewarding comedic plot is the next entry.
The Trunks of Mr. O.F. constructs a hilarious scenario where 13 large trunks are delivered in advance of their mysterious owner’s arrival to the only hotel in a sleepy, backwater burg. This sets off a cascading flurry of activity as the locals scramble to make their speck of a town respectable before the big shot arrives. Much like Waiting for Godot, it doesn’t really matter who O.F. is, just the effect he has on the people awaiting his arrival. The story spirals out to ridiculous extremes, as the locals quickly enact a tsunami of urban expansion so unprecedented that it is noticed by the rest of the country, triggering other big cities to follow suit rather than risk being left behind the new burgeoning metropolis. The handful of songs are background nightclub material rather than plot progressors, but composed in a style reminiscent of Kurt Weill’s cabaret works. Also, Peter Lorre appears in a fairly significant role, months before he fled the Nazis for the safety of Hollywood.
I by Day, You by Night closes out the set with another great story idea, this time constructed as a romantic comedy that is somewhat short on comedy. The scenario involves a poor young woman and man who are so hard up that they separately agree to a landlord’s offer to share a small room in shifts, with the woman sleeping there nights and the man taking days, never crossing paths or even knowing each other’s identity. Of course, they end up meeting and falling in love out in the world, with both trying to appear to be well-off rather than risk losing their budding love due to economic concerns. The actors are charming, the camera work is exceptionally lively, and the story is brilliantly paced, making for a fully engaging romance.
Considering their nearly century-old age and their survival through World War II, the restored films are in fairly good condition. The restorations are not particularly robust, with plenty of scratches and specks remaining in all four films, but the contrast and sound levels remain consistent throughout all scenes, except for a couple of minutes of missing sound in the final film. Detailed source and restoration notes are presented prior to the start of each film, revealing the effort required to bring these works up to snuff for this release. While no video bonus features are included, each film has a commentary track by scholarly contributors, and the booklet insert includes an expansive essay about the waning days of the Weimar Republic film industry.
Watching these films now, I was struck by how much fun everyone seemed to be having, living their cinematic dreams with no clue it was all about to end. I didn’t expect to be so completely entertained, with all four films being legitimately rewarding, even as they resist conforming to the typical musical-comedy genre. This fantastic set reveals the innovation and expert craftsmanship of the early German film industry, serving as a lasting celebration of its halcyon bygone days.
