Paul Fejos—brilliant director, anthropologist, and humanist—has only recently begun to receive the attention and recognition he deserves. He was not a prolific filmmaker, and some of his works are lost, but what remains is fascinating. His 1928 comedy-drama Lonesome, a charming late silent feature, has become a festival favorite with movie buffs in recent years, and is now available on DVD. The late-blooming popularity of this film has reintroduced Fejos to the world. Lonesome traces the development of a relationship between a young man and a young woman, both working class, who meet at an amusement park, flirt, fall in love, and almost lose each other. It's a simple, straightforward tale, told with great flair.
Fejos, who was Hungarian, was never happy in Hollywood, and in the early '30s he returned to Europe to make films. Sonnenstrahl, also known as Ray of Sunshine, was made in Vienna, Austria. In some respects it's a reworking of Lonesome, in that the story follows the relationship of a young man and a young woman who meet, fall in love, and undergo various trials, adventures and mishaps. But there are major differences: it's now 1933, and economic calamity has swept the world. When we first meet our young protagonists, they are seriously up against it. Hans (Gustav Fröhlich) and Anna (Annabella) encounter each other one night on the banks of the Danube. Both are broke, homeless, and alone in the world. Each is on the verge of suicide. When Anna leaps into the river, Hans suddenly realizes that he wants to live, and rescues her. Once she recovers, they stick together. Gradually, they pull themselves up from dire poverty to the lower rungs of middle- class life. But nothing can be taken for granted, and at the story's climax, due to a cruel twist of fate, their dreams hang in the balance. Only the kindness and generosity of their neighbors saves the day.
Sonnenstrahl is a series of episodes: comic, sad, romantic, sometimes grim, but ultimately hopeful. It's a film rich with incident, and offers a number of memorable sequences. Although it's a talkie, director Fejos was faithful to the techniques of the silent era, and much is conveyed visually. Gustav Fröhlich, familiar to modern viewers as Freder from Fritz Lang's Metropolis, makes a sympathetic leading man. In appearance he is the classic proletarian in cloth cap and threadbare suit, a working class Everyman of his place and time. Fröhlich handles most of the dialog, which might have been a necessity, for the female lead, French-born actress Annabella, was not fluent in German. Silent film technique is especially notable in a delightful scene set in a travel agency, when Hans and Anna stroll past travel posters advertising the great cities of Europe, and mime suitable activities for each. There is also a vivid segment set in an amusement park, reminiscent of Lonesome. As in that film, the initially cheery mood turns sour for our young couple. The only sequence that, in my opinion, doesn't quite come off, is one set in a department store. Hans and Anna get jobs cleaning the place after hours, but postpone their chores to try on fancy clothes, play the radio, dance, and engage in playacting. Presumably this was meant to be amusing, but it feels misjudged. These two are desperate for work, and need their paychecks. Messing around on the first day of a new job seems out of character, and reckless for people in their situation. But, that sequence aside, the couple's heroic effort to make a living and keep a roof over their heads fully engages our empathy and concern.
By the time the finale arrives we truly care about Hans and Anna, so we're moved when things end happily for them, after so much travail. Yet this ending is all the more poignant with hindsight: Sonnenstrahl was made in Austria in 1933, just as Hitler was taking power in Germany. We know, as the actors and filmmakers did not, what would come next. Therefore, we're aware that any happy outcome for these characters, and more importantly for the real people behind the scenes, was not destined to last long.
Fejos, who was Hungarian, was never happy in Hollywood, and in the early '30s he returned to Europe to make films. Sonnenstrahl, also known as Ray of Sunshine, was made in Vienna, Austria. In some respects it's a reworking of Lonesome, in that the story follows the relationship of a young man and a young woman who meet, fall in love, and undergo various trials, adventures and mishaps. But there are major differences: it's now 1933, and economic calamity has swept the world. When we first meet our young protagonists, they are seriously up against it. Hans (Gustav Fröhlich) and Anna (Annabella) encounter each other one night on the banks of the Danube. Both are broke, homeless, and alone in the world. Each is on the verge of suicide. When Anna leaps into the river, Hans suddenly realizes that he wants to live, and rescues her. Once she recovers, they stick together. Gradually, they pull themselves up from dire poverty to the lower rungs of middle- class life. But nothing can be taken for granted, and at the story's climax, due to a cruel twist of fate, their dreams hang in the balance. Only the kindness and generosity of their neighbors saves the day.
Sonnenstrahl is a series of episodes: comic, sad, romantic, sometimes grim, but ultimately hopeful. It's a film rich with incident, and offers a number of memorable sequences. Although it's a talkie, director Fejos was faithful to the techniques of the silent era, and much is conveyed visually. Gustav Fröhlich, familiar to modern viewers as Freder from Fritz Lang's Metropolis, makes a sympathetic leading man. In appearance he is the classic proletarian in cloth cap and threadbare suit, a working class Everyman of his place and time. Fröhlich handles most of the dialog, which might have been a necessity, for the female lead, French-born actress Annabella, was not fluent in German. Silent film technique is especially notable in a delightful scene set in a travel agency, when Hans and Anna stroll past travel posters advertising the great cities of Europe, and mime suitable activities for each. There is also a vivid segment set in an amusement park, reminiscent of Lonesome. As in that film, the initially cheery mood turns sour for our young couple. The only sequence that, in my opinion, doesn't quite come off, is one set in a department store. Hans and Anna get jobs cleaning the place after hours, but postpone their chores to try on fancy clothes, play the radio, dance, and engage in playacting. Presumably this was meant to be amusing, but it feels misjudged. These two are desperate for work, and need their paychecks. Messing around on the first day of a new job seems out of character, and reckless for people in their situation. But, that sequence aside, the couple's heroic effort to make a living and keep a roof over their heads fully engages our empathy and concern.
By the time the finale arrives we truly care about Hans and Anna, so we're moved when things end happily for them, after so much travail. Yet this ending is all the more poignant with hindsight: Sonnenstrahl was made in Austria in 1933, just as Hitler was taking power in Germany. We know, as the actors and filmmakers did not, what would come next. Therefore, we're aware that any happy outcome for these characters, and more importantly for the real people behind the scenes, was not destined to last long.