eJournals Colloquia Germanica 46/2

Colloquia Germanica
cg
0010-1338
Francke Verlag Tübingen
Es handelt sich um einen Open-Access-Artikel, der unter den Bedingungen der Lizenz CC by 4.0 veröffentlicht wurde.http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/61
2013
462

Detectives in a Criminal Regime: Krimis in Nazi Comedy Film

61
2013
Joseph W. Moser
cg4620154
Detectives in a Criminal Regime: Krimis in Nazi Comedy Film JOSEPH W. MOSER We st Che ster Univ ersity While detectives were less common in Nazi-era entertainment film than in the time before and after the Nazi period, there were still a few detective plots in comedy films of that time. The comedies featured some of the main stars of the day: Hans Albers, Heinz Rühmann, Hans Moser, and Theo Lingen. Nazi-era entertainment film sought to provide evasion from daily life in what was a criminal, very stressful and demanding regime, therefore the depiction of crime was less common even in dramatic film which focused more on melodramatic plots. The majority of plots in Nazi comedy film were comedies of error, often involving a romantic plot as well, or a family problem that was resolved with a happy ending. Musical comedy was also very popular at the time. Slapstick humor replaced wit, and actors like Hans Moser and Theo Lingen used physical comedy to distract moviegoers from the hardships of the time. Primary examples of such comedies are E.W. Emo’s Dreizehn Stühle (1938) and Willy Forst’s Wiener Blut (1942). In Dreizehn Stühle Heinz Rühmann and Hans Moser chase after a hidden and elusive inheritance, which was tucked away in one of thirteen chairs, which in turn had been hastily sold by the inheritor. This comedy of errors had its origins in Soviet Russia and is based on Ilya Ilf’s novel Twelve Chairs (1928). Mel Brooks made an American film adaptation of the book in 1970. This film is mostly apolitical, though it is in line with National Socialist and Communist ideology by placing the common good over the individual: when the inheritance is discovered, it falls into the hands of an orphanage. Wiener Blut, the title of which is derived from a Strauss waltz, deals with the Vienna Congress of 1815 and incorporates musical and romantic comedy as well as Theo Lingen’s and Hans Moser’s physical comedy while they play clumsy servants of the aristocrats convening in Vienna. In this film, the political ideology is embedded within the idea of reorganizing Europe, drawing parallels between 1815 and 1942. A lack of ethnic diversity - there are no English, French, or Russian aristocrats in the film - also reminds viewers of the historic context, in which the film was produced. While the German film industry was still large and prolific during the Nazi era, even in comparison with Hollywood, the range of plots and possi- Detectives in a Criminal Regime 155 bilities for content were heavily reduced by the restrictions and mandates of the regime. Both Dreizehn Stühle and Wiener Blut exemplify how comedic films under the Nazis simultaneously avoided current political issues on the surface of the film, while embedding ideological messages within the film. This article examines three films from the Nazi era that incorporate detectives and the idea of solving crimes into a comedy: Karl Hartl’s Der Mann, der Sherlock Holmes war (1937), Ernst Marischka’s Sieben Jahre Glück (1942), and E.W. Emo’s Reisebekanntschaft (1943). The crimes, as well as the detective techniques employed in these three films, are over the top, unrealistic, and meant to be amusing. The totalitarian regime did not like the idea of private detectives within their police state, and the film censors did not want to scare moviegoers with frightening depictions of crime, especially if they were not going to be exploited for propaganda purposes; yet there seemed to be a desire to still cover some detective plots, which were popular with German moviegoers. Consequently, detective plots were incorporated into comedies instead of dramas in order to ridicule the need for detectives in a state in which the police was supposed to be in complete control. American gangster films with James Cagney had been very popular with German film audiences, and the image of Chicago as a frightening urban center lingered in the German-speaking imagination for decades, but the regime would have not tolerated such plots from a German film unless they were set in a foreign context. Uncontrolled criminal activity - no matter how large or small - had to remain in a foreign context on the screen, as the following film examples will show. By showing crime plots, which had already been popular with moviegoers, these films subtly undermined the regime’s desire to keep such plots away from the cinema. 1 Reminiscent of Gottfried Keller’s novella Kleider Machen Leute (1874), Karl Hartl’s UFA film Der Mann, der Sherlock Holmes war, which premiered on July 15, 1937 in the UFA-Palast in Berlin, is a comedy of errors. In the film, people make assumptions based on a man’s clothes without the protagonist actually saying the name of the person for whom people are mistaking him. 2 Hans Albers plays the unsuccessful detective Morris Flynn and Heinz Rühmann plays his assistant Macky McPherson. The two men are mistaken for being Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson because they are dressed like these two fictional characters; they were particularly recognizable as such given Hans Albers’ checkered hat and jacket and his constant smoking of a pipe. Due to a lack of customers, the two men disguise themselves as the two famous detectives in order to be hired to solve cases. They board the night train to Brussels, whereupon criminals, who immediately mistake them for Sherlock Holmes and his assistant, flee the train. 156 Joseph W. Moser The train conductors also immediately jump to the wrong conclusions and treat the two gentlemen with the highest respect, providing them a sleeping compartment free of charge. In this sense, the plot is also similar to Kleider machen Leute, where the innkeeper jumps to an erroneous conclusion when the elegantly dressed tailor alights from a luxurious carriage on a rainy night. This is significant because there were numerous film adaptations of Romantic texts, including Kleider machen Leute which Helmut Käutner adapted for the screen in 1940, and in which Heinz Rühmann played the tailor. When Morris Flynn and Macky McPherson check in at the Hotel Palace, the hotel staff jumps to similar conclusions. Word reaches the city fathers and the fake Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are immediately commissioned to solve the mystery of who had stolen the «Blaue Mauritius» stamps from the world expo and replaced them with forgeries. The city fathers in the film are depicted as foolish old men, who are embarrassed to ask the police and government authorities for help for fear of a public scandal. It is implied in the film that Flynn and McPherson lack the wit and criminal investigation skills as well as resources to resolve the mystery. This provides some of the humor in the film as well as their constant fear of being discovered, which however redeems them as having some sense of propriety. A hotel detective can neither recognize the real Sherlock Holmes nor identify the criminals involved with the forgeries, who are also staying at the hotel. The real criminals, however, immediately become aware of the fake Sherlock Holmes and his assistant, a situation which puts both imposters in danger for their lives. Both sleuths finally end up in a cellar of the Schloss where the forgeries were made and they are in mortal danger from a gang of forgers who try to kill them, before the police - the proper authority to deal with the issue in the film - comes to save them. Another comedic moment in the film is that there is a character in the film, Arthur Conan Doyle, played by Paul Bildt, who is seen multiple times running through the hotel lobby laughing vigorously over the follies of his contemporaries who believe that his literary figure of Sherlock Holmes has come to life. At the end of the film, the two imposters are put on trial for Hochstapelei. The prosecutor does not want to forgive them for impersonating someone they are not. Morris Flynn claims that only the real Sherlock Holmes could feel aggrieved by this, at which point Conan Doyle steps forward and speaks for Holmes as he is his invention. Conan Doyle thanks the two men for bringing his fictional literary figures to life and the court acquits both men, a happy legal resolution in a final court scene quite common in Nazi-era entertainment film. The intended propaganda message here is that the state and its justice system are on the citizens’ side. The film actually ends with the Vorsitzende Rat ringing a bell Detectives in a Criminal Regime 157 «Die Sitzung ist geschlossen» and the camera panning to Sherlock Holmes’s clothes folded on a bed, symbolic of the German saying «Kleider machen Leute.» The film has a happy ending: the charade by the two imposters has been uncovered and they are flanked by two attractive ladies in the final court scenes, ladies who presumably will help the two men to settle down. On the surface, the film seeks to prove that there is no need for private detectives, and the two likeable imposters, played by Albers and Rühmann, are not completely innocent because they encourage people to believe that they are someone they are not. The film also criticizes the city officials who send for the presumed Sherlock Holmes instead of contacting the police. Their justification is that they were ashamed of the valuable stamp being swapped out. This becomes even more embarrassing for them since a German boy from Berlin uncovers the forgery. Much like many other entertainment films from this era, the film featured a Schlager song «Jawohl meine Herren» that Albers and Rühmann sang and that made the film even more popular and successful. 3 They intone: «Jawohl meine Herren, so haben wir es gern, denn von heute an gehört uns die Welt. Jawohl meine Herren die Sorgen sind fern, wir tun was uns gefällt.« These lyrics represent the mischievous behavior of the two want-to-be detectives in the film, but ironically they also represent the Nazi leadership’s behavior, particularly the line «Und wer uns stört, ist eh er es noch begreift, längst schon von uns eingeseift.« Although this line was certainly in line with the rhetoric of the time, when taken out of context it could sound much like a threat. Beneath the surface-level propaganda, the song criticizes contemporaneous politics. The two characters’ individual desires to deviate from the collective norm by pretending to be detectives subtly challenge the regime’s desire for every citizen to conform. Ernst Marischka’s Sieben Jahre Glück premiered in Berlin on October 9, 1942. It was the sequel to the 1940 film Sieben Jahre Pech. This Bavaria Filmkunst production was filmed entirely at the Cinecittà Studios in Rome, Italy, and thus there are no reminders of contemporary Germany. 4 In fact, the outside shots featuring palm trees are remarkably exotic for German film in 1942. The plot of this film is very weak compared to its prequel; however, it features a bank robbery reminiscent of 1930s-era American gangster films. Paul (played by Theo Lingen) runs into veterinarian Dr. Teisinger (played by Hans Moser) who is fishing on vacation. Paul and Dr. Teisinger wind up getting into the middle of a bank robbery at a large bank that is being committed by «eine internationale Verbrecherbande.» The word ‹international› alone had a negative connotation in National Socialism. Paul had temporarily lost his hearing and he goes into the bank lobby to deposit money where he manages to get in the middle of the crossfire without being shot. Dr. Tei- 158 Joseph W. Moser singer tries to get Paul out of this situation, but since he is hard of hearing this becomes very difficult and the two actors give a stunning slapstick performance dodging and avoiding flying bullets. The Italian police arrive, but the chaos continues. They handcuff Paul to one of the gangsters, who drags him up on the roof of the bank where they wrestle and Paul winds up handcuffed to Dr. Teisinger. Both men are apprehended by the police but eventually released. The Italian police tells them that it was Paul’s fault that he lost his money at the bank. The explicit message of the film here is that nothing works in Italy and that the police are not in control. Two other memorable scenes in this film include Paul as a torero in a Stierkampf and Dr. Teisinger being lowered down a chimney pretending to be a chimney sweep. Also, Moser sings a Viennese wine song «Einmal in der Woche fall i um.» Moser’s Viennese songs were usually one of the highlights of his film comedies, but this song much like this film was less successful with audiences. It is unclear at times whether the characters are in Italy or Spain, both allied Fascist countries, though it is clear from this film that the Nazis in 1942 did not think too highly of either country. The theme of an international gang of criminals was certainly in line with the Nazis’ xenophobia as was the opposition to the idea of anything international. But the same plot could have easily been filmed before or after the Nazi era as well. While there is no detective who solves the robbery, the film and the bank robbery scene deserve to be mentioned in this article, because it points out how rare it was to see a large scale robbery and shooting scene with gangsters in German film from the Nazi era. It was only possible here because this depiction of criminal activity was set within a foreign country, where the police are depicted as not having full control over their jurisdiction. Depictions of crime were so rare in Nazi film because the regime wanted its citizens to believe that the state was in complete control. By depicting crime in a foreign country, however, the film delivers an implicit critique. Sieben Jahre Glück circumvents the censors and can be shown even in the general absence of such scenes in Nazi cinema. At the same time it provides viewers with crime plots that were popular on the screen. In E.W. Emo’s Wien-Film production Reisebekanntschaft, which premiered in Vienna on October 7, 1943, Hans Moser plays the unusual character of private detective Fridolin Specht. This casting is immediately funny because Moser’s characters are too clumsy to be successful sleuths, and unlike Hans Albers in Der Mann, der Sherlock Holmes war, his characters generally lack the self-confidence and steadfast demeanor one might expect from a detective. On the train on his way to the Semmering mountain resort outside of Vienna, Specht demonstrates to a fellow traveler how he can oper- Detectives in a Criminal Regime 159 ate incognito by putting on a fake full beard, which is the silly introduction to his ineffective detective work. In fact, it is the first instance of mocking his effectiveness as a detective and sets the tone for the film. At the mountain resort, he receives notice from the lottery that he has won 10,000 Reichsmark and he exasperatedly phones home where an equally panic stricken Annie Rosar, playing his neighbor Frau Niederleitner, is ordered to deliver his lottery ticket to the lottery administration. This phone scene is a staple of Moser’s comedy act, and his hilarious ineptitudes with modern technology such as the telephone once again point to the implausibility of him being a great detective. At the lottery - in an unusually customer friendly gesture - they decide to send one of their secretaries to Specht at the Semmering so he may have his cash immediately. This should make any viewer apprehensive about the dangers of transporting a large sum of cash over a long distance. What follows is the typical comedy of errors involving swapped suitcases, as the secretary’s suitcase with the cash is swapped accidentally, and Specht turns this into an elaborate detective investigation in which he tries to resolve the mystery of the presumably stolen money. Specht winds up being arrested because he did not pay the bill at the hotel at the Semmering for the party that was thrown in his honor after he realized that he had won the money. Richard Eybner plays an irate Reisebekanntschaft who is falsely accused of having taken the suitcase. Specht analyzes the suspect by looking at his clothing in a suitcase, a scene in which he merely ridiculously points out the size of the suspect’s feet by looking at his slippers and comments on his teeth after examining his toothbrush. Then he confronts the suspect with a witness who simply says that she has never seen the man and Specht says nonchalantly «Na, dann war er es nicht,» which again shows how he is not able to conduct an investigation. This scene also shows how ineffectively Specht jumps to conclusions that make no sense. His exasperation is typical of Moser’s act and was very popular with film audiences but clearly shows he cannot play a detective. Eventually, it turns out that the secretary’s boss at the lottery, played by Wolf Albach-Retty, had mixed up everything quite innocently. The error is corrected without the detective’s help and it seems clear that he would never have solved the problem. However, as he receives the recovered money, he exclaims «10.000 Mark! Das sind 20.000 Palatschinken! » 5 Here we see the Austrians’ love for food, but at the same time what else might one have been able to buy with that many Reichsmark in 1943 - as even Palatschinken were probably rationed. The final scene shows Albach-Retty kissing the Fräulein, played by Elfriede Datzig, with Hans Moser under the table with a bottle of wine. The final screen shot has the happy ending typical of a Moser film. In 160 Joseph W. Moser subsequent films, Moser would be featured in the final scene both because he was extremely popular, but also because it reassured audiences to see him happy at the end of a film. This film, unlike Sieben Jahre Glück, is set in Nazi Germany. The setting is clearly recognizable by the letter carrier’s uniform and the insignia of the Reichsbahn bearing the eagle with the Swastika. Another indication is the frequent mention of the currency, which was important to help viewers relate to how much money was at stake and roughly amounted to a worker’s annual salary. However, there is no indication of the war going on in the film and there are no discernible ideological goals, except for the usual disdain for private detectives. The idea of winning 10,000 RM in 1943 must have seemed very distracting to viewers in the midst of the realities of the war. Casting Moser in the role of private detective Specht made for another convincing comedy of errors, where the detective is portrayed as an unnecessary character, in that there was no crime, just an innocent error corrected by the end of the film. Depictions of crime and detectives were not common in Nazi-era film. In the case of Der Mann, der Sherlock Holmes war and in Sieben Jahre Glück the films are even set in foreign contexts because the topic was not supposed to be featured in Nazi Germany. Casting Hans Moser, whose comedic act revolved around the figure of a clumsy exasperated older gentleman, as a detective in Reisebekanntschaften was a way to ridicule the idea of detectives overall. Nonetheless, the film points to the interesting fact that detectives were not completely banned from the screen as long as they remained in comedies. Nazi entertainment film was prolific between 1933 and 1945, but the many restrictions and mandates set on film producers limited the available number of possible plots and genres. Thus detectives were relegated to highly irregular appearances in comedy film. Yet, as irregular as they may have been, their presence in these films exercises a subtle political critique in that the detectives undermine the regime’s rejection of these plots, and thereby their overall ideology. Notes 1 After the war, the three films examined in this article - much like the majority of German entertainment film produced under Nazi - were considered apolitical and aired on television from the 1970s to around 2000 for a generation of TV viewers who had seen these films when they premiered in theaters. Today they are available on DVD and even YouTube. Despite some ideological underpinnings, these films are overshadowed by large scale propaganda features from the Nazi era ranging from Leni Riefen- Detectives in a Criminal Regime 161 stahl’s Triumph des Willens (1935), and Fritz Hippler’s anti-Semitic documentary Der Ewige Jude (1940) to Veit Harlan’s «Durchhaltefilm» Kolberg (1945), among many other propaganda features, all of which were initially banned in Germany by the Allies after the war. John F. Kelsen drafted a «Catalogue of Forbidden German Feature and Short Film Productions held in Zonal Film Archives of Film Section, Information Services Division, Control Commission for Germany» in 1951, which was first published by Greenwood Press with a new introduction by KRM Short in 1996. 2 There was also a 1940 Terra Film adaptation of Keller’s Kleider Machen Leute, directed by Helmut Käutner, which featured Heinz Rühmann in the role of the Schneidergeselle Wenzel. 3 The popular Schlager «Jawohl meine Herren» was composed by Hans Sommer with lyrics by Richard Busch. 4 Film productions in Italy were very popular with the actors as they provided respite from the war and more restricted food rations in Nazi Germany. 5 Palatschinken are Austrian crepes. Works Cited Dreizehn Stühle. Dir. E.W. Emo. Perf. Heinz Rühmann, Hans Moser, Annie Rosar, and Inge List. Emo-Film Gmbh, 1938. Der ewige Jude. Dir. Fritz Hippler. Deutsche Filmherstellungs- und -verwertungs GmbH, 1940. Der Mann, der Sherlock Holmes war. Dir. Karl Hartl. Perf. Hans Albers and Heinz Rühmann. Universum Film AG (UFA), 1937. Ilf, Ilya and Evgeny Petrov. Twelve Chairs. Trans. Anne O. Fisher. Evanston, IL: Nortwestern UP, 2011. Keller, Gottfried. Kleider machen Leute. Stuttgart: Reclam, 1969. Kolberg. Dir. Veit Harlan. Perf. Heinrich George and Kristina Söderbaum. UFA, 1945. Reisebekanntschaft. Dir. E.W. Emo. Perf. Hans Moser, Wolf Albach-Retty, and Annie Rosar. Wien Film, 1943. Sieben Jahre Glück. Dir. Ernst Marischka. Perf. Wolf Albach-Retty, Theo Lingen, and Hans Moser. Bavaria-Filmkunst, 1943. Sieben Jahre Pech. Dir. Ernst Marischka. Perf. Wolf Albach-Retty, Theo Lingen, and Hans Moser. Styria-Film, 1940. Triumph des Willens. Dir. Leni Riefenstahl. Leni-Riefenstahl-Produktion, 1935. Wiener Blut. Dir. Willi Forst. Perf. Theo Lingen and Hans Moser. Wien Film, 1942.