Lola Montès, the final film of beloved French director Max Ophüls, elicits a highly divergent range of responses. One reviewer, for example, awarding the film 5 out of 5 stars, says, "A masterpiece, Lola Montès is certainly director Max Ophüls's greatest achievement." Another reviewer, calling the same film "perhaps the most overrated film in cinematic history," concludes, "To grant this 'work of art' even one star would be to give it undue credit." There you have it: from zero to five stars! In this review, I will try to explain why such a range of opinions exists for this particular film. Naturally, I'll also reveal where my own opinion falls along that spectrum. Mostly, the controversy revolves around the issue of style vs. substance.

When I began writing film reviews about sixteen months ago, my views and understanding of substance in films were already well formed and haven't really changed much since. On the other hand, my understanding of stylistic elements of filmmaking was pretty shallow and has increased a bit (I'd like to think), both from reading reviews written by others and from writing my own. I pay more attention, now, to style than I previously did and value it more. If a film has mediocre content but fantastic style, I might now rate that film as high as four-stars. I still have no use, however, for films that have no worthwhile substance (or almost none), no matter how amazing they might be stylistically. In fact, style can become a detriment to a film that is almost totally devoid of substance in the same way that the gorgeous looks of a bimbo tend to make a mockery out of her shallowness. In cinema, substance relates mainly to such elements as script (plot, dialog, symbolism, etc.), depth of character portrayals, and thematic content. The style of a film, on the other hand, derives more from its cinematography, mise-en-scene, special effects, and soundtrack. Those lines of division are approximate, not absolute.

Historical Background: Max Ophüls was born Max Oppenheimer on May 6th, 1902, in Saarbrucken, Germany. His father was a conservative German-Jewish businessman, in the garment industry, so Ophüls changed his name in order to avoid embarrassing his parents when he took up acting – not all that "respectable" a profession for a young man of means. One can imagine that Ophüls's fascination with the story of Lola Montès might relate to her unusual boldness in pursuing her desires regardless of what controversy or scandal might ensue. Ophüls himself followed his heart's desire but evaded the controversy by changing his name.

Ophüls began directing plays in 1923 and had established himself well enough within three years to be invited to Vienna's famous Burgtheater. That proved important to his personal life because he there met the actress Hilde Wall, whom he married and with whom he fathered his only child, Marcel Ophüls, who later became a movie director himself (e.g., The Sorrow and the Pity (1971), one of the greatest documentaries ever made).

Ophüls had directed more than 200 plays and three feature length films (including The Bartered Bride) in Germany by 1933, but was prescient enough to anticipate the direction that Germany was about to take, after the Reichstag fire in 1933. He quickly removed his family to France, where they lived for most of the next seven years, except for a brief stint in Russia. In France during the thirties, Ophüls directed a number of films, most notably Une Histoire d'Amour (1933), Divine (1935), The Tender Enemy (1936), and Werther (1938).

When France fell in 1940, Ophüls took his family to Switzerland and then made his way to Hollywood, arriving there in 1941. His first five years in Hollywood were frustratingly inconsequential. He began several projects only to be fired or to have the projects abandoned. One of those projects was the film Vendetta that was to be produced by Howard Hughes. Ophüls was fired after just a few days on the job. Ophüls, working under the name "Opuls" in America, did finally complete four American films: The Exile (1947), Letter From an Unknown Woman (1948), Caught (1949), and Reckless Moment (1949). The first starred Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and the last two James Mason, but Letter is generally regarded as the best of Ophüls's American films.

Ophüls returned to France as the fifties began and there made his four most famous films: La Ronde (1950), Le Plaisir (1952), The Earrings of Madame de . . . (1953), and Lola Montès (1955). These are the films on which Ophüls's immense reputation mainly rests today. Ophüls was really just hitting his stride when he died an untimely death of rheumatic heart disease in 1957. Ophüls reputation as a great director rests almost entirely on the style of his films rather than their content. Ophüls had an unparalleled virtuosity in manipulating mise-en-scene and character movement. He also moved his camera with such evident grace and fluidity as to be nearly intoxicating to viewers. Only the likes of Eisenstein and Dreyer possessed similar command of mise-en-scene. I can't name any other director with as great a command of camera movements as Ophüls, who used a rich variety of tracking shots, pans, tilts, and crane shots. Ophüls is one of only a handful of directors whose style is immediately identifiable from watching just a few minutes picked at random from the middle of a film.

The style vs. content issue is therefore inherent, to an extent, in evaluating the place of Ophüls in the pantheon of great directors. Lola Montès was the first (and only) film made by Ophüls with the new Cinemascope camera that was in its infancy, but all the rage in 1955. It added not only color but also a great deal of additional width to the images. Ophüls had a budget of $1.5 million with which to work – the largest ever, up to that time, for a French film. The result was an eye-popping realization of the lush romantic style that Ophüls favored. Lola Montès is a visually dazzling commentary on shallow celebrity status. Ironically, the film itself mirrors its heroine, boldly showcasing its glitzy exterior but somewhat hollow underneath. The film flopped when it was initially released and the studio, desperate to recoup its mammoth investment, seized control of the film and cut it from 140 minutes to 92. It now circulates in the United States in more than one length, but the usual one in 110 minutes. I wouldn't personally want to sit through an additional thirty minutes of the film.

The Story: The film uses the interesting framing device of a circus, in New Orleans, in which Lola Montès (Martine Carol) is the main attraction. She is now past her prime and has fallen on hard times, but she had once been the most famous courtesan in Europe, counting among her innumerable lovers the likes of Franz Liszt (Will Quadflieg), Richard Wagner, the conductor Claudio Pirotto (Claude Pinoteau), and even the King of Bavaria, Ludwig I (Anton Walbrook). Now, tired and a bit piqued, she is paraded through a series of reenactments depicting the highlights of her scandalous life, by the circus ringmaster (Peter Ustinov), for the amusement of the crowd. We see the vignettes from Lola's incredible life both through the gaudy skits performed by the circus troupe and flashbacks representing Lola's own recollections. These are the stories of Lola's high-visibility love affairs. Other than her propensity for seducing famous men, Lola's only other noteworthy ability appears to have been a rather indifferent talent for performing the lively fandango and bolero on stage.

Lola's life history is mainly a story of squandered fortunes and ravaged hearts. So cynical was Lola about the permanency of love, she would have her own private carriage follow behind when traveling with a lover to ensure that she would always have a means of escape. At the end of her affair with Franz Liszt, the pianist/composer thanks her for allowing "him the illusion that he is the one leaving." As Lola returns to her own carriage, her faithful coachman inquires, "It's over?" "As always," she says, resignedly.

As a young woman, Lola's mother had determined to marry the pretty girl off to a wealthy old Baron. Lola had balked at the idea and impulsively married the Baron's aide instead, Lieutenant Thomas James (Ivan Desny). He proved to be a drunk and unfaithful, so Lola had fled, establishing a pattern in her dealings with men that would last a lifetime. Her men were undependable and she learned not to care for them any more than they genuinely cared about her. Later, discovering that one of her supposedly divorced paramours was married, she had publicly thrashed the man and apologized to his wife, saying she had not known he was married. Lola's lovers included both young men and old, from a twenty-year-old Bavarian student (Oskar Werner) to the deaf old King Ludwig.

Lola's boldness had led to an audience with the King of Bavaria. Lola had stormed the castle on horseback, forcing her own arrest. Later, brought before the King, this conversation had ensued:

Ludwig: You attacked a lieutenant of the gendarmerie. That's serious.

Lola: Yes, sire.

Ludwig: I should have demoted him and expelled you.

Lola: Yes, sire.

Ludwig: Instead, I've granted you an audience and promoted him to Captain. You must excuse my indifferent French.

Lola: Your French is very good.

Lola had traveled to Bavaria to audition, as a dancer, for the Bavarian State Theater, but had been rejected. Not one to take "No" for an answer, she had figured the King was the man with whom to discuss the matter.

Ludwig: The report says: No classical training.

Lola: What is this classical stuff? Pirouettes and so on! Dead and buried! But the fandango and bolero, sire, those Spanish dances are alive. [She curtsies, as though recalling where she is and to whom she is speaking. The King encourages her to continue with a nod.] Classical or not, they can't deny I've got a good figure.

Ludwig: Forgive me. It is precisely on that point that the report casts . . . how shall I put it . . . the report casts doubt.

Lola: It's not true! Am I expected to walk about stark naked? I who dress so modestly? They're against me just because I have a good figure! We'll soon settle this. [She grabs a letter opener from the King's desk and cuts open her blouse. Now the camera cuts to an image of a couple of the servants in the corridor.]

Ludwig: Bring a needle and thread! [The order gets rapidly transmitted from one servant to another until the entire castle staff is beside itself searching for the required implements.]

After years of being surrounded by groveling servants and state officials who submissively agree with even his most foolish opinions, the King is charmed by Lola's fresh ideas. She even has the courage to needle the old man impulsively. Soon, the King sends his wife away to a spa for a while so that he can pursue an affair with his favorite dancer. He commissions a portrait of Lola and chooses for the job the artist who indicates that he will take the longest to complete it. Gradually, the series of portraits include less and less clothing. The scandal that ensues precipitates a revolt in Bavaria, bringing still another of Lola's relationships to a sudden end.

There's a bit of theatricality near the end of the film pertaining to Lola's health and a dangerous acrobatic routine that she performs without a net. She appears faint and we are invited to wonder whether she'll fall to her death. I'll leave that outcome untold for the benefit of those who might choose to watch this film.

Themes: The central theme of this film is Lola's daring in choosing to do just as she pleases. Lola had celebrity status before the concept was as ordinary as it is today. Lola is a symbol and how one reacts to that symbol is dictated by one's own values. One character exalts her, declaring that she does "everything the ordinary woman dreams of doing but lacks the courage to do" but another tells her, "You represent freedom, love, and everything they hate."

I personally have mixed opinions about celebrity status. I admire celebrities who earn the public's attention through talent and hard work. I abhor those who strive to acquire celebrity status by scandal mongering. I refuse to participate in the process, studiously avoiding the supermarket scandal sheets and the television entertainment magazines. My idea of a sports hero is Bill Russell not Dennis Rodman. I respect Madonna's work in the film Evita but not her early efforts to grasp fame by crass sensationalism. Which kind of a celebrity was Lola? She was a little of both. She had little genuine talent other than her capacity for scandalous seductions, which would point toward the unattractive variety of celebrity status. Yet, as she says in her own defense, "I am not a scandal machine, I simply do as I please." That's an importance difference. I respect people, for example, who march to their own drummer or who adopt an unusual personal appearance if the motivation is genuine self-expression. I do not admire the same kind of behaviors if the motivation is merely to grab attention or create a sensation.

Celebrity status based on lascivious behavior is shallow indeed and can only hold the public's attention so long. Lola paid the price for the relative lack of foundation for her fame, in the film version of her life at least, by being relegated, in the end, to the role of a circus act, providing kisses for a parade of uncouth men. Why were men even attracted to Lola, either then or at the pinnacle of her fame? Lola reminds me, as a philatelist, of the famous one-cent magenta, the most valuable stamp in the world. It's value is only partly due to the fact that it is one of a kind – the only remaining copy of its issue. Much of its value derives from the fact that it has been owned, at various times, by many famous men, famous as either stamp collectors or in other ways. People fork out millions of dollars to be added to that list of famous owners. As a young woman, Lola's appeal might have been youthful beauty, but later she was desired simply because other famous men had desired her previously. Now, at the circus, men fork over a dollar to kiss the hand of a middle-aged woman of fading beauty simply so that they can later boast that they once kissed the famous Lola Montès, mistress of a King. Sometimes shallow celebrities and the shallow public provide an excellent match for one another!

Production Values: Lola Montès was a real person – a famous courtesan of the nineteenth century, but Ophüls makes no pretense in this film toward historical accuracy. This film was based on a novel by Cecil Saint-Laurent entitled La Vie Extraordinaire de Lola Montès, not on a biography. Ophüls enjoys nothing more than a circular story. He made exceptional use of the device in La Ronde and accomplished a bit of the same result here with the circus as a framing device. The various flashbacks have the feel of acts in a circus.

Ophüls was a master of film aesthetics. Every frame is loaded up with gaudy detail and the framing of his actors and actresses is exceptional. Ophüls had the artistic sensitivity of Renoir and the flair for opulent mise-en-scene of Eisenstein (see, for example, Eisenstein: The Sound Years). Add to that the richness of Cinemascope, which had deeper hues than the Eastman color process that won out in Hollywood, and the result is one dazzling image after another. Ophüls's use of color was creative. He employed mostly dull greens and reds for the framing circus segments, suggestive of Lola's downfall, but used livelier colors for her glory days in the flashbacks. Cinematographer Christian Matras provided the full range of graceful camera movements that were the hallmark of Ophüls's style. The soundtrack by George Auric is better than average.

Ophüls wasn't excited about the widescreen aspect of Cinemascope, so he simply framed out a portion of the screen so that he could shoot in the manner to which he was accustomed. You'll notice that the actors appear almost exclusively in the middle half of the screen in this film. The technique proved successful as a device for framing of the story but it compounded the weakness in Carol's performance as Lola by providing few close-ups that might have allowed viewers to see into her interior. I doubt that it would have made enough of a difference, however.

The foremost problem with this film is that the story is about an irresistible femme fatale, yet the actress, Martine Carol, comes across as neither especially sexy nor lovely. Not that I personally could do better but one imagines that the King of Bavaria might. Carol was a famous French actress in her day. She was born in 1922 and died at a tender age in 1967. She was born Maryse Mourer, used the stage name Maryse Arley for a while, and became famous as Martine Carol. In the early fifties, she was the top French actress and the top "sex symbol" until the advent of Brigitte Bardot. In the late forties and early fifties, "sexy" was a much more constrained concept than it is today or what it became even as early as the sixties. Carol was voluptuous and acquired her reputation as a sex symbol mainly on the basis of a few semi-nude scenes. There is nothing remotely sexy or seductive about her performance in Lola Montès. She seldom offers viewers as much as a smile and certainly no unusual skin exposure. Those are huge problems for this film, at least for heterosexual male viewers, who want their femme fatales to be something of a turn-on. Even apart from sexiness, her performance is deadly in its woodenness. She reveals energy and inner turmoil only twice in the film – during the enchanting audience with the King and near the film's end. Carol died tragically of a heart attack at forty-five. Her other appearances included The French, They Are a Funny Race (1955) and Around the World in 80 Days (1956).

Most of the male actors in the film are limited to the job of illustrating how men make complete fools out of themselves when they lust after beautiful women. Anton Walbrook and Peter Ustinov turned in the film's best performances by far. Walbrook conferred real depth and complexity to King Ludwig and Ustinov gave a magnificent, though largely wasted, performance as the Circus Master. Walbrook also appeared in La Ronde and Ustinov in such films as Qua Vadis (1951), Spartacus (1960), and Topkapi (1964). Oskar Werner was unimpressive as the student as was Will Quadflieg as Liszt. Werner appeared in such films as Jules and Jim (1962), Ship of Fools (1965), and The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965). It was Carol's film to carry, but she did not do so.

Bottom-Line: So, part of my distaste for this film is my antipathy toward surrendering to scandal-mongering celebrities the attention they don't deserve. Another part is the lack of development of Lola as a character, however necessary that might have been, given the shallowness of her nature. The biggest problem, however, is an almost entirely uninteresting performance by the lead actress, Martine Carol. On the other hand, the film is visually sumptuous, in mise-en-scene, frame composition, color, and the graceful camerawork. All of that adds up to this film being one of the foremost examples of style over substance, a point that could also be made of Lola herself. I rate this film as 5-star in style and 2-stars for substance. I'd like to give it 3.5 stars as the average of those two factors, but will round up to 4-stars out of respect and deference for the great Max Ophüls. Lola Montès is in French with English subtitles. My VHS copy was 110 minutes. In this case, I don't particularly recommend hunting down the 140 minute director's cut, though I've read that it is now available.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older