Lola Montes

Max Ophuls
1955

I can't say I was particularly impressed with this iconic classic, and left the theater puzzled as to why it retains such a prominent place in cinema history. "Lola Montes" is a would-be epic yarn about a fallen woman, strong willed and libertine, brought down by societal restrictions and emotional caprices. The soft candy colors and tendency towards theatricality is stylistically similar to many of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's productions, particularly "The Red Shoes" (1948), and "The Life and Death of Lolonel Blimp" (1943). While the sickly and broken Lola is left to whore herself out to gawking crowds under the bigtop, her supposedly scandalous and amazing life story isn't all that remarkable. Given, Martine Carol conveys all the stoic grace-under-fire required of the role, and her cigar smoking Lady-Godiva schtick is compelling, but it's unfortunately wasted in the face of unsatisfying dramatic conceits. Oskar Werner's wholesome and virginally youthful presence is all but wasted as Lola discloses to him that her true love is the half-daft near-deaf King of Bavaria that she's been living for as a kept woman. This purported passion is so unconvincingly conveyed as to make her confession comic. As far as Max Ophuls's ultra-genteel classical ouvre goes, I much prefer "The Earrings of Madame de..." (1953) to this.