The Devil Is a Woman (1935)

I think this is a new genre that they're all sort of working their way through it and haven't got all the kinks worked out yet but it's a genre that works for me.

A lot of fun.

A Brilliant Conflict

It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

This film takes place in Spain during the early part of 20th Century where a large carnival has just begun. It's at this time that a young man by the name of "Antonio Galvan" (Cesar Romero) spies a lovely young maiden named "Conche Perez" (Marlene Dietrich) who then offers to go for a ride with him the next morning. However, that same night, Antonio is informed by an old acquaintance that he greatly respects named "Don Pasquale Costelar" (Lionel Atwill) to avoid her at all costs as she is nothing but trouble. Pasquale then proceeds to tell him that he was once in love with her and upon confiding some in-depth details of how she broke his heart, Antonio swears that he will have nothing to do with her. Unfortunately, he soon finds that to be much more difficult than he initially realized and because of that trouble soon erupts between them. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this was a delightful film made especially enjoyable by the performance of Marlene Dietrich who shows why she was such a movie sensation during this time. Admittedly, this picture is quite dated and that for that reason it might not appeal to everyone. But having said that, I believe that those who like classic films from this particular period might find this one to their liking and for that reason I have rated it accordingly. Above average.

The legend is correct; Dietrich never appeared quite so incredibly beautiful as she does in this film. As ever, the star of the show is her face, made up and lit to perfection and effortlessly dominating every shot. Sternberg floats this face amidst a surreal, slightly out of focus, backdrop of carnival streamers and dark clothing which brings to mind the claustrophobic fantasy of 'The Red Empress'.What a pity that all this (somewhat excessive!) cinematography is wasted on such paper-thin characterisation and melodramatic plot. Atwill and Romero play their stock roles adequately enough and resist the temptation to ham it up while Dietrich does her usual 'scene stealing via the eyes' routine. However her character is more caricature than three dimensional human being and you are left half wishing that Atwill had shot her instead of firing into the air.Sternberg was obviously obsessed with Dietrich and devoted himself to displaying her as the most sublimely beautiful representation of womanhood that he could manage. Looking this wonderful, she ought to have broken the hearts of every man and woman in the audience and with a decent plot, a more believable character and less cluttered cinematography then it could have happened. What a waste!

If you have closely followed Sternberg you could tell this moment was coming. All his films since he joined up with Dietrich were powered by a seductive electricity channeled and discharged back and forth between herself and the camera, but always struggled in some measure to hold back to a recognizable world. The Scarlet Empress just before this was only held back by a thin semblance of history, if that, a history that was utterly bent to his fervent adoration to crown Dietrich queen of Hollywood. It was an unhinged, anguished film, mirrored on every misshapen gargoyle figure, every distorted fresco on the walls of the surreal church.But here he finally lets go and is afforded a kind of tranquility, as if he knew he would lose her after this film and would be lost himself. This would be his last film with Dietrich, and perhaps the last time he mattered. The whole film is an effervescent dream this go round, no pretense about it anymore. Oh, it's supposed to be taking place in Spain, but as much as Empress was taking place in Russia. So a world envisioned as a moonlit walk beneath cedars, a walk a little outside the common maps, with every step masked in the smoke from some opium pipe, veiled shaped and long shadows, at the center faintly humming with the emptiness behind illusions. The premise is that it's the traditional time of the carnival, a week long promise of deceptive sex beckoning from behind masks, inside swirling crowds and confetti rains. Dietrich enters the scene on a lavish chariot like already the queen from the previous film, once again every camera on her, every male pair of eyes transfixed on her eyes promising sweet things.But Sternberg is not just waxing here like a lovestruck bird, for once since a long time. We float in restless sleep but need to stay lucid enough to perceive where the dream is floating from. One source is revealed halfway through, this much is easy to grasp; the man, another lovestruck Sternberg, weaving stories about this reputedly scandalous woman, and how much of it true or merely a ploy to thwart the sexual antagonist? Is she the devil, or is the devil in our lusting eyes?She does behave a lot like we were told she would when we first meet her, sultry, seductive, a sexual being, but it doesn't have to mean anything. So we dream some more, looking to apprehend the face behind the mask.We surface back into the real world, itself resonating with dreamlike ambiance, with no clear demarcation between fiction and truth, for a marvellous scene in a theater where she lets fate deal the cards. The scorned lover takes out a pistol and shoots at the queen of hearts.But beyond the ensuing battle of lovers, beyond even the final twist that sends us away and keeps the camera with her for one last knowing smirk, there is the actual source of the dream that we haven't spotted yet. So a film about a woman who is the subject of stories, a dream about us dreaming her, the woman who is yet present outside the frame but pure and intangible to the last. See if you can spot it out, and if the film is just gaudy, dreamy, or transforms into the makings of that dream. I mean if she is that queen of hearts, then who is shuffling the deck?There is no Eyes Wide Shut without this film, to go this far.There is finally a look of world-weariness that mellows Dietrich's face, a kind of stoic resignation to the cards being dealt as they are, or have been a long time ago. No doubt Welles saw this, many times over, and cast her in Touch of Evil twenty years down the road. Her parting line in that film wonders what does it matter what you say about people. It pertains here.

This was the seventh and last (indeed, it had been announced as such from the outset by Paramount) of the celebrated cycle of cinematic collaborations between Sternberg and Marlene Dietrich and is said to have been both their own favorite – incidentally, with it, the two effectively came full-circle by making another film (as was their first joint venture, THE BLUE ANGEL {1930}) that revolves around a middle-aged man ruining himself for love of an ungrateful young woman. It was also the third adaptation of Pierre Louys' novel "The Woman And The Puppet" that had been much admired by the French Surrealist movement and, appropriately enough, was remade much later by Luis Bunuel in 1977 as THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (which turned out to be his own swan-song).Like that version, here we also have the long-suffering 'puppet' (Lionel Atwill in one of his best non-horror roles) narrating his misfortunes with the 'woman' – albeit to a best friend (a young Cesar Romero, replacing Joel McCrea who walked off the set after a single day's shooting!) in a Spanish cantina rather than to strangers on a train! Sill, like the earlier 1929 French version, the male lead (here renamed Pasquale) meets Conchita on a snow-derailed express where Dietrich (dressed as a nun!) takes on an unattractive gypsy female dancer and he intercedes to put an end to that struggle; incidentally, there had also been a nun passenger in the Baroncelli version but she was shown sleeping through the whole ordeal! Speaking of Atwill, he had previously acted opposite Dietrich in her first non-Sternberg Hollywood film, Rouben Mamoulian's THE SONG OF SONGS (1933) which I plan to catch up with presently; besides, Sternberg was summoned to give evidence at Atwill's 1942 trial (concerning an 'immoral' Christmas 1940 party) in which the actor infamously perjured himself and, consequently, was ostracized from Tinseltown's major league and forced to spend his last four years slumming it in third-rate (if not disagreeable) flicks! This being an adaptation emanating from Hollywood's Golden Age, it is unsurprising to find the supporting roles filled by such amiable character actors as Edward Everett Horton and Alison Skipworth (in a bigger role – as Dietrich's mother – than her character gets in either of the other available versions) who are usually known for comedy and indeed supply some non-intrusive comic relief; equally par for the course is having Dietrich sing an amusingly suggestive number and don some of the kitschiest costumes – even if, ostensibly, she is playing a poor Spanish girl! The film is set during the carnival season and this grants Sternberg the opportunity to devise some remarkably atmospheric masks; indeed, the director must have known this was going to be his last film with Dietrich because he photographed the film himself (although the great Lucien Ballard gave uncredited support – or, rather, was learning the ropes – in his second of four consecutive films for Sternberg).Having been made after the Hays Code came into force, the film fell victim to censorship (and even a ban threat from Spain!) but its impact still comes through; a notable change concerns the famous nude dance performed by Conchita and the humiliation endured by Pasquale at her house: celebrated novelist John Dos Passos, who adapted the Louys novel, still made Dietrich a tramp, while Sternberg displayed the power of the moment through camera-work, the décor and the elements (rain is pouring down throughout the scene! The film runs for just 80 minutes but feels somewhat longer – especially since the narrative goes on after the main story had ended in the other two versions I watched and includes exclusive incidents: a duel between the two men, a visit to a hospitalized Atwill, Conchita about to leave with Romero but deciding to stick with Atwill, etc.I had watched THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN twice previously on Italian TV in an English-language print that was accompanied by Italian subtitles that were so large that they obscured a good part of the screen!; this new viewing came via Universal's 2-Disc Set "Marlene Dietrich: The Glamour Collection" which features two double-features on a double-sided disc (the film under review sharing disc space with Rene Clair's THE FLAME OF NEW ORLEANS {1941}) while, bafflingly, Mitchell Leisen's GOLDEN EARRINGS (1947) has a disc all to itself! Funnily enough, this being yet another case of those maligned DVD-18 discs, I was unable to start the feature by pressing the "Play" button and had to do so from the chapters menu! Incidentally, the later Julien Duvivier/Brigitte Bardot remake was alternatively known as A WOMAN LIKE Satan (while is, alas, currently available only in unsubtitled form!) and there are at least two more unrelated but notable films known as THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN: Stephanie Rothman's THE VELVET VAMPIRE (1971; which I have never seen) and Damiano Damiani's star-studded nunsploitation effort, IL SORRISO DEL GRANDE TENTATORE (1974)! Ironically enough, Sternberg had intended calling his film "Capriccio Espagnole" (which would actually be retained by the Italian release prints!) but was vetoed by Paramount's current Head Of Production, Ernst Lubitsch!