As a great admirer of Julien Duvivier and now, at last, having seen The Great Waltz some 60 plus years after it was made I can't help wishing that Duvuvuer had been tempted to Hollywood by something a little more substantial. I don't, of course, know the circumstances but given the horror stories about Hollywood moguls that we were weaned on it's not difficult to imagine a discussion in which the reasoning is 'we're doing a movie about an Austrian waltz king set in Vienna and up to here in schmaltz so why don't we get that French guy who did those things about tough guys in Africa (La Bandera, Pepe Le Moko) and the Popular Front (La Belle Equipe). Great idea, boss, let's get a cable off toot sweet. I wasn't there at the time but with hindsight it's ludicrous that Duvivier followed his masterpiece (just one of his masterpieces actually) Un Carnet du bal with this dross although there is a kind of left-handed logic given that Un Carnet du bal concerned a woman's treasured memories of her first ball where the prevailing mood would have been three-quarter time. Sixty-odd years later trying to look past the wooden Gravet and the 'stage' Austrian accents (ah, Shhsstrrowss) personified by Sig Ruman in the opening scene we're able to salvage the sure-footed direction and directorial touches of Duvivier and see what today looks hokey - the ride in the Vienna woods in which every sound is a musical note contributing to the instant composition Tales Of The Vienna Woods - as the magical sequence it must have seemed to a world hungry for escapism with a major conflict waiting in the wings. Likewise the quicksilver crochets and quavers that dance over an inept bank clerk's ledger in the opening scene - indeed the economy which in that same scene delineates Strauss as a frustrated musician trapped in a world of finance. Known to me more as the wife of another great writer, Clifford Odets, than an actress, Luise Rainer has little to do in the emoting stakes but Duvivier does use her effectively in the scene at the Opera House when he shows us how insignificant is a mere wife against ART, personified in this case by the mighty Opera House, the performers and, of course, Composers. I'm glad I saw it - and indeed now own it thanks to a generous French friend, but I'll be watching both Un Carnet du bal and the film Duvivier made immediately after The Great Waltz, La Fin du jour, much more than returning to this.
Review of The Great Waltz
