A Bilingual Review of Alfred Polgar's Marlene: Bild einer berühmten Zeitgenossin

Polgar, Alfred (2015). Marlene: Bild einer berühmten Zeitgenossin. Wien: Paul Zsolnay Verlag. [160 pages; € 17,90]

Blog reader Horst Zumkley has kindly contributed the following reviews in English and German of the latest Marlene Dietrich-related publication, Alfred Polgar's Marlene: Bild einer berühmten Zeitgenossin, edited and with an afterword by Ulrich Weinzierl, which is currently available at Amazon.de.

During the 1920s, Alfred Polgar (1873-1955) was a well-known Austrian critic and columnist who lived in Berlin. He later had to flee the Nazis and relied on the help of others also in exile. Through the mediation of a Swiss friend, Polgar received financial support from Marlene Dietrich. Sort of in return, Polgar agreed to write a portrait of her, which he composed during 1937 and 1938.

In 1984, Ulrich Weinzierl, who had edited Polgar's posthumously published works and written a biography about Polgar, found the biographical portrait in a suitcase in the New York apartment of Selma (Sally) Ell, the widow of Polgar's stepson Erik G. Ell. At that time, Weinzierl did not publish it because the circumstances under which the manuscript was written were still unclear.

Now, 60 years after Polgar’s death and nearly 80 years after its creation, Polgar’s manuscript finally appears in print as the first part of the book, Marlene: Bild einer berühmten Zeitgenossin. Polgar’s text traces the career of Marlene during the period between 1927 and 1937 and describes the "famous contemporary" as a quasi-god, gifted artist, and perfect human being

The second part of the book was written by Weinzierl, who retraces "the history" of this manuscript and contextualizes its emergence and meaning in Polgar's life as a Jewish emigrant.

This portrait of Marlene is more a book for Polgar fans than Dietrich admirers. The text, until now unknown, is pure hagiographical prose and brings nothing new; nevertheless, its belated publication is welcome.

Likely, Polgar played no special role for Marlene; he was one of many emigrants whom she helped. In Dietrich's autobiography, the name Polgar does not appear, and the manuscript, in which she participated, is not mentioned. Nor is the name Polgar mentioned in the Dietrich biographies by Maria Riva (Marlene's daughter), Bach, Freeman, Higham, Spoto, Walker, etc. Only in the biography by Werner Sudendorf (2001, p 124) is there is a mention of Polgar's support by Marlene and their cooperation in his book about her.

In contrast, Dietrich and the portrait that Polgar wrote about her were of particular importance for Polgar during his emigration period. This is convincingly pointed out by Weinzierl in his epilogue.

The best and most unique parts about this book are the subject, the previously unknown history of the origin of the manuscript, and its subsequent odyssey. It is a document of emigration history, interesting, sometimes grotesque, and certainly characteristic of that time.

--Horst Zumkley

Please read Zumkley's German-language review as well:

Photorama: Marlene and Tamara Matul in Berlin

Marlene Dietrich and Tamara Matul model for Berlin’s illustrated magazines (1928 and 1929):

Lulu or Lola?

      I think most classic films fans are familiar with G.W. Pabst's late 1920s movie, Die Büchse der Pandora (Pandora's Box). It immortalized Louise Brooks as an uninhibited, carefree erotic Lulu. But not as many know how close Marlene was to being forever remembered as Lulu, instead of Lola. Discover what I've found in Louise's biography by Barry Paris (which was itself based partly on "Lulu in Hollywood").

source: x

     The search for the actress who would be suitable to play the role of Lulu lasted for a long time. Paul Falkenberg, Pabst's assistant director, remembered that for months he had been presenting the great director with literally every possible candidate for the role, but he turned them all down.

     Eventually, it looked like the choice was made and the girl to play Lulu would be... 27-year-old Marlene. The legend has it that Dietrich was just about to sign a contract when a cable from Paramount (Brook's studio) came; it carried the information that Louise is available to play in Pandora's Box; the dark-haired flapper later realised that if she hadn't acted at once, her opportunity would have been lost.

     Everyone was shocked that Pabst has chosen an American do play Lulu. Many magazines ran it as a first-page story material, among them Film-Illustrierte and Neue Berliner. Some felt insulted that there wasn't even one German girl good enough to get the part. Others were already fascinated by the newcomer. Needless to say, Marlene was sure she would have been a better choice.

source: xx

      Why did it happen? Pabst was afraid that Dietrich would turn the movie into a "burlesque", considering her seductive manner. Louise Brooks later defended that opinion by saying that in the 1928, Marlene wasn't the sleek and sophisticated Hollywood siren, but rather the luscious starlet wrapped in satins, furs and beads... Plus Brooks was about five years younger, which was also of great importance.

     What do you think - was this really possible that Dietrich was considered to play in Pabst's movie?After all, most of film history is a great tale of who was to play/direct/produce what and why it has turned out otherwise... Anyway, could you imagine a different Lulu?

Marlene Dietrich's Perfumes

 On my last trip to Berlin I visited numerous places that are in some way connected with Marlene Dietrich; my biggest hope was to see enormous collection of Marlene's property that the Filmmuseum (Deutsche Kinemathek) owns, but to my great disappointment, there were "only" few rooms of Dietrich's things on display. ;)

I was disappointed because one of the things I wanted to see were the flacons of Marlene's perfumes. I'm passionate about fragrances myself, so that interested me in particular-but, oh well, all the vintage bottles are lying in some Filmmuseum archive, temporarily hidden from the fan's curious eye. ;)

Even thought I didn't inspect what I wanted to, I'll try to answer the question: how did the Goddess smell?

In her 20s, she probably would wear No. 37 Veilchen (Pure Violet) perfume by Frau Tonis. The brand was just resurrected by the owner's granddaughter in 2009; they write on their website:

"Now to our final question: You also offer scents that once enthralled the legendary Marlene Dietrich?
Yes, that is correct. Dietrich’s favourite perfume was a scent as intense and eccentric as her she herself: pure violet. A scent that is dominated by the sweet, intense almost stubborn top note. This perfume may not capture the spirit of the time today, however, one can easily imagine how Berlin’s grande-dame of the roaring 20s once used this scent to cause quite the stir."

So I had to visit them.

I've bought the smallest version of this scent--it really is violet in all its glory--if you've ever drunk Creme de Violette from Monin, then the smell is exactly the same. I myself can imagine Marlene wearing this perfume in the 1920s Berlin; it's a bit sweet, intoxicating and very extravagant, but not as sophisticated as Dietrich's later olfactory choices.

So how did she smell like in the 1930s?

Various sources (like this, or this, or that one) mention Creed's Angelique Encens and Guerlain's Vol de Nuit, both from 1933.

These are the only two of Diva's scent that I haven't laid my hands on (at least not yet. ;) ) Creed dips in tuberose, which Marlene used to love, in jasmine,  and it's based on amber and incense--sounds very Dietrich, doesn't it? Unfortunately, the perfume is now discontinued and really hard to get.
Guerlain's Vol de Nuit is another interesting creation, my dream to get; absolute classic with its citrus head, floral-aldehyde body and warm, sandalwood and musk base. Perfect!

Tabac Blond from Caron (1919) is a fragrance that could be associated with Marlene even by its name. Leathery, full of tobacco, but softened by vanilla, it sounds possible that Dietrich would like it.

There's also a notice of Lelong's Indiscret from 1936, floral-woody perfume with galbanium- the same you can find in Vol de Nuit.

In the 1940s and 1950s, there was Piguet's Bandit from 1944-fragrance associated with Edith Piaf but, oh my, it screams Marlene. It's so feminine on one hand, but harsh and full of masculine tobacco on the other. I've found the info that Dietrich loved it repeated on various websites, especially those with Bandit's reviews.

Another Piguet's creation, Fracas from 1948, is also mentioned in one of the sources I've posted. The scent is very feminine, very sweet, it doesn't have the nerve as the above mentioned ones have. However, it's full of tuberose, so maybe that's why it appealed to Marlene?

Here you can find photo of Guerlain's Shalimar perfume that Marlene reputedly owned (it's a woody, oriental classic from 1925) and here a notice about the Young Dew scent (by Estee Lauder, 1953), another tuberose scent, this time spicy one, with cinnamon and earthy patchouli.

While smelling various scents that Dietrich was supposed to wear, remember one thing--most of them are now reformulated and don't always resemble their vintage versions. With this in mind, you can now go and check Marlene's taste in fragrances. ;-)

Rudi Polt's The Ultimate Marlene Dietrich Souvenir & Memorabilia Book: A Review

Several months ago, I discovered The Ultimate Marlene Dietrich Souvenir & Memorabilia Blog, run by Rudolf "Rudi" Polt, which astounded me because a) I was certain that I knew every blog about Marlene Dietrich and b) I was sure that I had already seen Polt's name somewhere. Although I proved myself wrong about my omniscience, I was right about my observant eye. Indeed, Polt is cited and acknowledged by Steven Bach in Marlene Dietrich: Life and Legend. Also, I've seen his generous contributions on YouTube.

After browsing Polt's blog, I learned that he had published a book through Lulu.com, The Ultimate Marlene Dietrich Souvenir & Memorabilia Book. To be frank, when I first visited the link, I balked at the price (currently US$118.75) of a self-published book with a typo on its cover, but we all know the adage, "Don't judge a book by its cover." After corresponding a bit with Polt, I realized that this man is a tireless wealth of information about Marlene as well as a keen Dietrich researcher, and I decided that I would buy his book.

Well, now it's in my hands, where I wish it had been sooner because it's a helpful pictorial bibliography of Dietrichiana (or Marlenebilia, if you will). Not only do I consider the scans (often in color) more impressive than the plates of photograph reproductions in most trade publications (ahem, Donald Spoto!), I also contend that the succinct captions are more informative than most Dietrich biographies (*cough* Charlotte Chandler! cough*). If you know about the Major Arcana in a Tarot deck, you may be aware that it tells the story of a Fool's journey toward knowledge. Let me cast myself as that fool and reveal what I've learned from Polt's book:

In a captioned photo below the table of contents, I learned that the ubiquitous German photographer credited as "v. Gudenberg" on postcards (see Fabrice's collection at Marlene Dietrich Collection), "W. von Gudenberg" in Marlene Dietrich: Portraits 1926-1960, and "Baron Wolff von Gudenberg" on auction sites had a given name--Walter! On IMDB, a Walter von Gudenberg is credited as a cinematographer for one of Dietrich's first films--The Little Napoleon. Is that accurate? I don't know, but it does lead me to wonder how much influence von Gudenberg had on Marlene's image during the '20s. Like others, he saw the glory of her gams, even though I've never seen them in such a greased-up and girlish pose. If anyone knows where I can read a substantial biography on von Gudenberg, please direct me to it.

We've seen images of Marlene playing singing saws, violins, and pianos, but what about ukuleles? There are many magazine images that I never saw before communicating with Polt, such as the Das Magazin ones featured prominently in his book. Speaking of images new to me and Hawaiian accoutrements, Polt presents a photo of Marlene and Maria Riva in hula skirts, which is one of the most charming photos of the two from the early '30s--far more than the ones circulating online. Also available are scans of entire film programs! Polt isn't merely showing off his extensive collection--he's sharing it! With an emphasis on sheet music illustrated with Dietrich's image, featuring songs from Dietrich's movies, or containing compositions inspired by Marlene, Polt's book covers a "genre" of Marlenebilia that others have yet to explore thoroughly.

If I have any concerns about Polt's book, it's this: were any of these photos retrieved online? A Manpower publicity shot looks identical to one I saw at Profiles in History, right down to its crooked scanned edges. Then, it occurred to me that perhaps these auction items were consigned by Polt himself. As for criticisms, I must admit that some scans look too heavily pixelated, especially the ones from the January 30, 1951 issue of the miniature People Today, which shouldn't have been enlarged. In these digitized magazine and newspaper photos, the halftone Marlene instead looks like she was caught in a fishing net. Quibble as I may, I can't but praise the many clear color photos of Dietrich during the 1960s, and the breadth of Dietrich-related images in this book will help guide me--a relative neophyte--in collecting Dietrichiana.

All Aboard The Ship of Lost Men!

Scream if you like silents!

Earlier in June, I ordered the last silent movie that Marlene Dietrich filmed, The Ship of Lost Men (a.k.a. Das Schiff der verlorenen Menschen, a.k.a. The Ship of Lost Souls, a.k.a. the worst alternate title ever, Grischa the Cook), on DVD from Grapevine Video. After my difficulties with TCM Shop, I hesitated to do business again with a small outlet, but my concerns were unfounded. Grapevine’s checkout process was simple, and within two days after placing my order, I had the product in my hands. Therefore, I give my unsolicited endorsement of Grapevine and look forward to ordering DVDs from its site in the future.

For most of my entries, I research what I present to you. Well, I’m a bit burnt out from that and will leave it to someone else to answer my questions. Was Grapevine responsible for the restoration and music of its The Ship of Lost Men release? If so, I’d like to thank them. The score, performed by David Knudtson, accentuates every scene appropriately due to the theater organ’s portentous timbre. The subtitles are mostly free of typos and certainly weren’t translated by Babelfish. The length--at 122 minutes--exceeds the 1996 Critic’s Choice Video VHS release, which is 97 minutes. Not having seen any other versions of this movie, I’d like for those of you who have watched this Grapevine release and previous releases to compare them.

Although I hate writing synopses, I’ll distill what I watched below. Of course, be forewarned that I may have seen a different cut than what others have detailed on IMDB and elsewhere. Spoiler-haters, you ought to skip this altogether:

Notes On Cafe Elektric At Aero Theatre

Dietrich headlined, but Gruber stole the show

Tonight, I saw Cafe Elektric (now spelled Cafe Electric all over the Web, despite the signs visible on the joint itself in the movie) for the first time at Santa Monica's Aero Theatre, alongside over 50 other folks. Truly, pianist Gerhard Gruber was the star of the show, and I recommend that you attend any silent film screening he accompanies because he improvises in dialogue with the screen and the audience. Gruber has posted his Cafe Elektric compositions on YouTube, which gives you some sense of his work. My favorite scene of the film was the near-rape of Hansi because of Gruber's jolting arrangement.

Bah! I'm typing out of order. If you want a structured synopsis, read the one on the Silents Are Golden site, which summarizes exactly what I saw; however, the print the Aero screened continued after Gottlinger noticed the ring on Hansi's finger. Maybe the Silents Are Golden writer didn't wish to spoil any surprises, not that there are any. Also, read Ferdinand Von Galitzien's spiel; he's Blogger nobility, you know. I'll share a slightly cleaned-up and cleaner version of my jumbled notes, which I wrote right after watching the film:

"Wenn die beste Freundin"

I have never researched Marlene Dietrich's Weimar-era music, but I just heard "Wenn die beste Freundin," a 1928 Electrola-label single infamously laden with lesbian undertones that Dietrich recorded with Margo Lion and Oskar Karlweis.

Cabaret Berlin wrote more extensively on the single; therefore, you should refer to them for more information. Someone who speaks and understands German, however, could help me by telling me whether the translated lyrics on that site are accurate because I can't vouch for them. All I can add is that Dietrich's tone is at its clearest and that Margo Lion's (it is her, no?) counter-melodic scatting underpins the song's coquettish content. Katy Perry, take some pointers if you ever toy with liquor lesbianism again.

Weimar Cinema at MOMA

Weimar Cinema, 1919-1933: Daydreams and Nightmares, an exhibition presented by MOMA in association with the Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau Foundation, includes screenings of 75 Weimar-era films and an exhibition of posters and stills. The exhibit, which started in November, will run until 7 March 2011. Die Frau, nach der man sich sehnt and Der Blaue Engel will be screened in January.

Count Ferdinand Von Galitzien has reviewed Die Frau, Nach Der Man Sich Sehnt at his blog.