Wednesday, May 19, 2021

GRAND HOTEL (Edmund Goulding, 1932)

 


Amid the hustle and bustle of Berlin’s Grand Hotel it’s the same routine day in and day out: “nothing ever happens”. It’s an ironic statement but also a subjectively true one: from the staff point-of-view nothing ever happens to them as they go about their dreary grind, slaves to the lavish lifestyles of the Rich and Famous whose tiniest tragedy must seem more important than their own daily suffering.

From the opening credits we see our main characters ensnared in melodrama as snippets of strident telephone conversations which are inter-cut with switchboard operators who struggle to make the connections but also eavesdrop. Then a scarred visage greets the audience and makes the aforementioned pronouncement that will prove to be both self-contradictory and true. The Baron needs money, the Ballerina needs an adoring audience, the stenographer needs a living wage, the Industrialist needs a business (and sexual) partnership and the lonely embittered Accountant needs to live. The film concerns the collision of these tragedies into catastrophe for some and opportunity for others. It at least gives us a happy though exhausting ending for a hotel Clerk whose wife finally gives birth to a healthy son.

Goulding deftly directs this melodrama with wonderful blocking and choreography, as the characters move in and out of the frame like a well-staged dance routine. The camera moves and tracks in long-takes with dozens of extras in the frame too! The iconic high-angle shot looking down upon the circular front desk is amazing for its time and one marvels at the technical expertise required for such a composition. The ensemble is very good with both John and Lionel Barrymore playing the tragic and sympathetic victims while Joan Crawford holds her own against the theatrics of Garbo while Wallace Beery dresses in a suit and combs his hair but is as pugnacious as ever. But it’s Lionel Barrymore as Kringelein that, for me at least, steals the film. He is a dying man spending his life savings on a lifestyle he could only imagine, which has been denied him by his rakish boss Preysing (Wallace Beery). He tries so hard to make friends and earn affection that it’s heartbreaking throughout the film and when the Baron (John Barrymore) makes his acquaintance his morals and conscience (the Baron’s) are put to the test. And Flaemmchen (Joan Crawford) discovers unrequited love and is lowered to giving dictation without her typewriter to her married misshapen benefactor. The final tragedy is surprising as the Baron becomes prey to Preysing and Kringelein loses his only friend and Grusinskaya loses her only love. But the final embrace between Kringelein and Flaemmchen when she proclaims him to be a good man makes the eyes water while the prima donna dancer has yet to learn the awful truth. It’s a happy ending of the temporary sort for some and a brutal permanent denouement for others. But it’s life in a place where nothing ever happens...except to poor dachshunds.

Final Grade: (B)