|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources
|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources
It's apparent that Peter would hate to discover Lulu with another man, yet at this moment he seems too distracted to notice anything. Unusually distant and dismissive of Lulu's attention, he eventually confesses that their affair must come to an end. In order to preserve his social standing he must marry the far more respectable Charlotte von Zanik (Daisy D'Ora). Devastated, Lulu tries her seductive best to change Peter's mind, almost succeeding despite his awareness of impending doom. Unfortunately when Schigolch's presence becomes known, Peter storms out. Lulu is too tenacious to thwarted this easily though; her next step is to turn up at Peter's house, nominally to see his son, Alwa (Francis Lederer).
Such is the magnitude of Lulu's appeal that when Countess Anna Geschwitz (Alice Roberts) arrives to discuss designs with Alwa, Anna can barely disguise her desire. As Lulu notices the wonderful costumes, to be used in Alwa's stage production, she excitedly asks Anna to create one especially for her; a chance jumped at. When Peter finds Lulu at his desk, he coldly enquires as to her business; equally frostily she indicates her desire to see Alwa. However, as soon as Lulu leaves, Peter reveals his true feelings by instructing Alwa to place her at the centre of his new show. Unwittingly Peter has just planted the seeds of his own destruction; at the riot of an opening night, orchestrated by the stressed Stage Manager (Siegfried Arno), Lulu and Charlotte finally get to meet. There are fireworks. Degradation awaits.
Widely acclaimed as a masterpiece of the silent era, Pandora's Box retains its power even today. The roots of this longevity are twofold; the smouldering presence of Louise Brooks and the committed direction of Georg Wilhelm Pabst. Meshing beautifully, the pair never once become sentimental as they take this tale of Lulu the hedonist to its ultimate conclusion, namely annihilation and tragedy. As Lulu satiates her own wishes, men and women alike are drawn to her magnetic charm; the ambiguity is that you're never sure if she's fully aware of her power. At times Lulu is hopelessly naive, allowing herself to be abused by others, yet elsewhere she callously manipulates, forcing the enchanted to do her bidding. This is, of course, the essence of why Pandora's Box feels so timeless; Lulu is the ultimate feminist!
When the performances in Pandora's Box are considered, what's striking is that both Lulu's personality and Brooks' naturalistic acting feel equally contemporary. Her beauty is incredible, yet she could be the girl next door. With abandon Brooks throws herself into the role, flashing a radiant smile here and a sensual glance there. What emerges is a central performance solid as rock, both erotically charged and childishly innocent. Suitors are pulled into her exuberant flame like lovelorn moths, hypnotised into disregarding their own fate. Fortunately these supporting performances are excellent, from the lesbian-tinged Geschwitz to the grasping Schigolch. The fatal attraction can be seen in their eyes and their resignation; all fall eagerly into her praying-mantis clutch.
However, with a script of this quality and the perfectly placed direction of Pabst it would be hard for any cast to fail. Typifying this collusion of talent, the pivotal vaudeville scenes are truly magnificent. Here Pabst conducts a symphony of movement, backstage order from chaos where irresistible pace, humour, action and pain lie. Elsewhere he brings the subtlety missing from so many modern pictures; a curl of smoke or a dropped hand is enough to intimate the hidden horror. The ultimate compliment, which applies, is when you can forget that Pandora's Box is a silent from the Twenties; clear expression and decisive action make the story surprisingly easy to follow. Brooks is such a potent icon of sexuality that her allure crosses seven decades; that's some advertisement. No wonder the instant of Lulu's demise is still heart breaking, for by then Lulu is a victim too.
|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources