brogmiller

Despite the IOC's concerns regarding the rise of Nazism, it was Germany's successful staging of the earlier Winter Olympics that dispelled much of the criticism. The Nazis were obliged to be on their best behaviour to the extent of enabling two Jewish athletes, ice hockey player Rudi Ball and 1928 fencing champion Helene Mayer to compete although inexplicably excluding the Jewish Gretel Bergmann, one of the world's greatest high jumpers.

Although Germany came out on top with thirty-three gold medals, its intention of showing the superiority of the Aryan race was somewhat undermined, much to Hitler's annoyance, by the success of the black American athletes, notably high jumper Cornelius Johnson and the phenomenal winner of four golds, Jesse Owens, whose win in the 100 metres still thrills and whose friendship with German high jumper Luz Long epitomised the Olympic ideal.

Director Leni Riefenstahl has not concealed those scenes which are less flattering to Nazi ideology and has included the hugely embarassing moment during the women's 4x100 metre relay when the penultimate German runner dropped the baton.

Riefenstahl had learnt her craft from G. W. Pabst and Arnold Fanck during the making of their Mountain films and it is her visual sense and exemplary editing skills that make this film so absorbing whilst keeping the propoganda oblique. Taking us back through the mists of time to ancient Greece is a masterstroke whilst the lighting of the Olympic flame has become an almost mystical experience. Special mention must go to composer Herbert Windt whose score is majestic when required and a perfect accompaniment to the javelin, pole vault and marathon events.

The film was premiered to coincide with Hitler's 49th birthday and was pretty well received internationally with the notable exception of Great Britain. Its premiere in America happened three days before the infamous Kristallnacht and showings subsequently banned.

Although Nazi 'fellow traveller' Riefenstahl may not have been a jackpot of admirable character traits, the passage of time has treated her kindly as a film-maker. On her death in 2003 the British press praised her innovative cinematic techniques and in 2005 Time Magazine declared this film to be in the top 100. Its influence on Ichikawa's 'Tokyo Olympiad of 1964 is undeniable.

Written and directed by the more than capable Andrew L. Stone, this has been described by some as a 'noir' but actually contains none of the components associated with that particular genre. It is essentially a 'heist' movie in which Joseph Cotten's assistant bank manager is the complete antithesis of the criminal mastermind whilst his wife, played by Teresa Wright, is the film's moral compass. As with all films of its type the robbery itself goes pretty well to plan but the getaway proves more than somewhat problematic, to say the least.

Despite the innate implausibilty of the plot, the editing by Otto Ludwig maintains the momentum throughout whilst Dimitri Tiomkin's instantly recognisable chords and orchestration underline the tension.

An earlier reviewer has expressed the view that some might find it awkward watching Cotten and Wright playing husband and wife having previously seen them in 'Shadow of a Doubt' as uncle and niece, to which I would respond: It's called ACTING!

This magnificent example of poetic fatalism has an interesting provenance. Following the surprising failure of his 'Drole de Drame', director Marcel Carné was approached by the head of French production at UFA in Berlin to make a film there based on a novel by Pierre Mac Orlan. The story of an army deserter was considered too decadent by Herr Goebbels who sold it to a French producer. Ironic therefore that when released it was deemed by some to be pro-Fascist!

Filming was allowed to go ahead on condition that the word 'deserter' was never uttered and that Jean Gabin's character fold his discarded uniform neatly on a chair. Despite considerable changes to the original by Jacques Prévert, the author praised the film for 'recovering entirely the spirit of the novel'. Prévert has in fact given us a classically constructed piece that observes the unities of time, place and action.

Although they had collaborated twice before, this is the film that cemented the partnership between Carné and Prévert which reached its peak with 'Les Enfants du Paradis'. It also marks the first of five films featuring the perfectly matched Gabin and Michele Morgan whose fondness for each other off-screen cannot be disguised. All of the characters, major and minor, are wonderfully drawn with Michel Simon managing to infuse the diabolical Zabel with pathos whilst the two-bit gangster of Pierre Brasseur, twice on the receiving end of the infamous Gabin whip-slap, is, like all bullies, a coward at heart.

Behind the camera the A-team of the period, Eugene Schuefftan, Alexander Trauner and Maurice Jaubet provide oodles of atmosphere, perfect settings and a suitably doom-laden score. Even Coco Chanel gets in on the act as designer of Morgan's see-through raincoat.

At a time when France was moving inexorably towards war, Carné's pessimistic piece reflected his dictum that 'a director should be the barometer of his times' and although the subject matter proved contentious with even Jean Renoir calling it 'counter-revolutionary', this has long been acknowledged as not only a classic from the Golden Age of French Cinema but an undeniable influence on future film makers.