Pallme Family

 

The Roberto Pallme Collection

Das Weib des Pharao  (Ernst Lubitsch-Film GmbH, per/for Europäischen Film-Allianz GmbH, DE 1922)

 

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DAS WEIB DES PHARAO (Theonis, la donna dei faraoni / The Loves of Pharaoh) 
(Ernst Lubitsch-Film GmbH, per/for Europäischen Film-Allianz GmbH, DE 1922) dir: Ernst Lubitsch; scen: Norbert Falk, Hanns Kräly; ph: Theodor Sparkuhl, Alfred Hansen; des: Ernst Stern, Kurt Richter; cost: Ernst Stern, Ali Hubert, Ernö Metzner; cast: Emil Jannings (Amenes, the Pharaoh of Egypt), Dagny Servaes (Theonis, a Greek slave), Harry Liedtke (Ramphis, son of Sothis), Paul Wegener (Samlak, King of Ethiopia), Lyda Salmonova (Makeda, his daughter), Paul Biensfeldt (Menon, the Pharaoh’s Governor), Friedrich Kühne (High Priest), Albert Bassermann (Sothis, the Pharaoh’s architect); premiere: 21.2.1922 (Criterion, New York), 14.3.1922 (Ufa-Palast am Zoo, Berlin; mus: Eduard Künneke); orig. l: 2976 m.; 35mm, 2246 m., 123’ (16 fps), tinted, Adoram München. Preserved by Adoram München, Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv, Filmmuseum München, with the collaboration of George Eastman House; labwork by Alpha-Omega. German intertitles (English version prepared for the simultaneous translation by Ulrich Ruedel)

The ban on foreign film imports during World War I helped German film production to flourish, and, thanks to inflation, the immediate postwar period saw a flood of lavish super-productions. But producers had to face a major problem: anti-German sentiment abroad meant that many of the most important foreign markets were closed to them. In the attempt to improve possibilities of foreign sales, German films avoided German themes, preferring historical and exotic subjects. Ernst Lubitsch’s Madame Dubarry, which was announced as a “European production” on account of its French story and Polish star, Pola Negri, was the breakthrough for German films in America. Bought by the broker David P. Howell for $40,000 and released by First National in December 1920 at the Criterion Theatre, New York, under the title Passion, the film broke all records, and within a few weeks made profits several times higher than the price paid for the film. Despite the protests of many film workers in America, who saw such cheaply imported German films as a threat to domestic production, other American entrepreneurs sought to make fortunes by buying German films for America. The biggest coup was achieved in November 1920 by Ben Blumenthal and Samuel Rachmann – respectively a theatre impresario and a promoter of boxing and wrestling matches in New York – on behalf of Adolph Zukor’s Famous Players-Lasky company and Paramount distribution. Pola Negri was put under contract with the promise of a huge salary. Ernst Lubitsch and his producer Paul Davidson did not renew their UFA contracts, and followed Negri in December 1920. Lubitsch described his new prospects in the journal Der Film (February 1921): “Now I can do bigger productions than ever before. But despite my contract with America my film style will not change. I will always retain the typical German qualities, which I see in the carefully developed and logically constructed screenplay and the German style of acting.” In April 1921, Blumenthal, Rachmann, and Zukor officially established the Europäische Film-Allianz (EFA). They put under contract the best German film artists: besides Lubitsch and Negri, they signed directors Joe May and Max Reinhardt; actors Emil Jannings, Harry Liedtke, and Mia May; screenwriter Hanns Kräly; cinematographers Werner Brandes and Theodor Sparkuhl; and set designers Ernst Stern, Kurt Richter, and Martin Jacoby-Boy. Through spectacular investments EFA sought to establish a major company on the scale of UFA, with branches for production and studios (EFA Studio-Film GmbH), distribution and sales (EFA Vertriebs GmbH), and exhibition (EFA Theatre GmbH). Lubitsch, May, and Reinhardt formed their own companies, which were integrated in and financially dependent on EFA. Money was no problem, as Samuel Rachmann explained in the journal Film-Kurier on 1 January 1922: “I have always explained to Lubitsch and May that they need not care how much their films will cost. Their concern is simply to produce the best films ever. My belief is that you cannot go bankrupt because of your expenses, but only because you have not enough income. So you simply have to look for more income!” Immediately after the foundation of EFA, and following the premiere of his film Die Bergkatze (The Mountain Cat) on 12 April 1921, Lubitsch started preparations for his first EFA production (Film-Kurier, 18 May 1921): “Since Pola Negri still had some commitments to fulfil, a subject had to be selected which would be principally a challenge for Emil Jannings.” Lubitsch allowed an unusually long time for production of Das Weib des Pharao. From the film’s initial conception to its premiere took seven months – a period in which the prolific Lubitsch previously would have shot at least three or four movies. His company, Ernst Lubitsch-Film, rented a 120,000-square-metre plot in the outskirts of Berlin, where full-size sets were erected – an Egyptian village with 50 houses, several great palaces, and a high town-wall. A whole infrastructure was established to accommodate the large crowds of extras, with streets, a water supply, telephone lines, dressing rooms for 8,000 people, even a medical centre. In Emil Jannings, Paul Wegener, and Harry Liedtke, Lubitsch engaged the three most famous male film actors in Germany at that time, though he also engaged the little-known newcomer Dagny Servaes – who was given a long-term contract with EFA – to take Pola Negri’s place as the film’s female lead. The shooting was accompanied by a unique promotional campaign: journalists were transported on boats with brass bands to the location, where they were able to watch the staging of the big battle scenes between the Egyptians and Ethiopians, with thousands of extras under the command of Lubitsch. In the Berlin Zoo a big night-time procession was staged for charity, with all the actors in costume. Der Kinematograph reported in December 1921 that some 250,000 Berlin schoolchildren and their teachers were invited to visit the set after the filming was finished, to study Egyptian culture. The film was the talk of the town long before it was released. The most important innovations for Lubitsch were the new American lamps, which made possible completely new lighting effects in EFA’s “dark” studio and for the exterior night scenes. He was able to film the crowd scenes with several cameras at the same time; the battle sequence was even filmed from a balloon. The shooting was completed by the end of November 1921. Lubitsch needed nearly a whole week for the editing – normally he accomplished it personally in only three days. Following a reception on 1 December given by President Ebert, who was eager to support foreign sales of German films, on 8 December there was a private screening for the EFA staff and selected journalists, and on 10 December a farewell party. On 13 December Lubitsch and Davidson sailed for America, with the first print of Das Weib des Pharao in their luggage. In New York Ben Blumenthal arranged lavish receptions and banquets to introduce Lubitsch to the American press and to promote his new film. Lubitsch proudly explained to journalists that he had worked with 112,065 extras in the film’s production. Davidson confirmed this with bills from the costume suppliers – though obviously the extras were counted according to the days of their engagement. In his eagerness to study American films, Lubitsch attended premieres of new films by Stroheim, Griffith, and Chaplin, which greatly impressed him. Lubitsch had already returned to Germany before the film’s spectacular premiere at the Criterion Theatre, New York, on 21 February 1922. The film was “edited and titled by Rudolph Bartlett” – which involved cutting the film by about 700 metres. Among the scenes that were excised was the stoning of Ramphis and Theonis at the end of the film, to give the American version the necessary happy ending. The film’s American release title was The Loves of Pharaoh, which The Exhibitor’s Herald rightly called “a misnomer”. Otherwise, the film was highly praised: “It is one of the truly exceptional works of the screen,” said The New York Times (22 February 1921). Only the acting was criticized (The Exhibitor’s Herald, 11 March 1921): “The work of the individual actors fails to stand out as expected from stars of such magnitude and at times some of the parts are woefully overacted.” The film ran for 300 screenings at the Criterion, but was less successful in other towns. The German premiere on 14 March 1922 at the Ufa-Palast am Zoo was a major social event: “Even in the best times of Reinhardt no premiere was ever as crowded as Das Weib des Pharao,” wrote Kurt Pinthus (Das Tage-Buch, 18 March 1922). The screenings were sold out for six weeks, and trade papers reported that there was spontaneous applause during the battle scenes and at the end of each reel. The orchestral score, by the popular operetta composer Eduard Künneke (1885-1953), was independently reviewed in the press – the first time that a film score was taken seriously by German critics. Though the film was praised as a technical masterpiece, there were some objections (Berliner Zeitung, 20 March 1922): “German spirit, German handicraft, German art – maybe a little bit too much American style, and therefore we cannot praise it with the same enthusiasm as other works by Lubitsch.” Weak points in the storyline were subsequently pointed out (Film-Kurier, 18 December 1922): “From reel to reel there is a different main character – and in the end the audience doesn’t sympathize with anybody.” All in all, Das Weib des Pharao was not the most successful film of all time, as it had been anticipated to be. It failed to eclipse Madame Dubarry, and it could not save EFA, which was facing severe financial problems thanks to its arrogant behaviour, massive investments, and costly contracts. A year and a half after its foundation EFA was liquidated. Zukor lost about $2 million in this miscalculated investment. The only assets of EFA were Pola Negri, who was brought over to Hollywood in September 1922, and Ernst Lubitsch, who would follow in December 1922. Today all six productions of EFA are lost, or survive only in fragments. For decades Das Weib des Pharao was available only in a print at Filmmuseum München, struck from a duplicate negative with Russian intertitles held by Gosfilmofond, and with German intertitles added and compiled from the original screenplay. Its length was about half that of the premiere version. For this new reconstruction, a project of Adoram München, Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv, and Filmmuseum München, in cooperation with George Eastman House, the original tinted nitrate print with Russian intertitles (the basis of the Russian dupe negative) was located in the vaults of the Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv, and was completed with scenes from another tinted nitrate fragment with Italian intertitles from the Roberto Pallme Collection at George Eastman House. Additional material used in the restoration included the last sequence of the film, with German intertitles, which was found with the nitrate material of the Joe May production Das indische Grabmal (The Indian Tomb) preserved by Filmmuseum München; some outtakes which were found in a 16mm reel with film clips; and shots from the Russian preservation print which were damaged in the original nitrate material. Since the badly damaged nitrate material could not be satisfactorily duplicated by traditional methods, all the materials were scanned in 2K-resolution by the company Alpha-Omega, which specializes in dealing with damaged nitrate films. Frame by frame the pictures were stabilized, cleaned, and repaired. With the help of the screenplay, contemporary programs, newspaper reviews, and a fragment of the censorship card, the film was reconstructed shot by shot, with missing parts replaced by stills and explanatory title cards. The work was extremely difficult, since in all the nitrate fragments the order of the shots had been rearranged – evidently to create new storylines. The Russian material was compiled from at least two different prints, resulting in varying tinting tones, while sometimes the same shots were used in different parts of the film. In the Italian print from George Eastman House the Weib des Pharao material was combined with a scene from an unidentified film showing a battle around a medieval castle. The digital data, well documented in a digital editing-list with all the information on each shot, has been transferred back to film in the original full-aperture silent-film format. The film’s original orchestral premiere music by Eduard Künneke has been arranged for the reconstructed version by Berndt Heller and recorded with the orchestra of Saarländischer Rundfunk. For the screening at the Giornate del Cinema Muto the music will be played from a DVD and synchronized with the 35mm film projection. – STEFAN DROESSLER
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By the time Lubitsch started making Das Weib des Pharao in 1921, he stood at the top of the German film industry. He had made 17 features and short features since 1918, including comedies, historical epics, and literary adaptations, and almost all had been box-office successes. Madame Dubarry (1919) was an internationally acclaimed hit. It premiered under the title Passion in the United States in December 1920, and was crucial in breaking down the lingering post-war prejudice against German film. The German government’s ban on the importation of foreign films, put in place in 1916, had been continued after the war’s end. Only at the beginning of 1921 were American films seen again on German screens. During those 5 years, Hollywood style had changed considerably. The three-point lighting system had been devised, principles of continuity editing had gelled, settings were simpler and less eye-catching, and acting depended more on facial expression. People in the German industry noticed the differences, particularly in the lighting. They were impressed by backlighting, seen in the glamorous images of Mary Pickford (shot by Charles Rosher, who would later film Pickford in Rosita for Lubitsch). Lubitsch was quick to understand the new traits of American films and to master them. Das Weib des Pharao was the first film he directed after seeing modern Hollywood, and the change from his earlier work is striking. It and Die Flamme (1922) occupy a brief transitional period between Lubitsch’s German and American careers. Lubitsch had long worked for the Union company, which had united with other firms to found UFA in late 1917. In December 1920 Union’s owner, Paul Davidson, decided not to renew his contract with UFA. The rising inflation which would eventually spiral into hyperinflation was limiting Davidson’s financial freedom, and some of his lead actors were receiving feelers from American production companies. Davidson wanted to form a company for Lubitsch. His chance to do so was provided by a new, American-owned company that was being formed in Berlin. The Europäische Film-Allianz was officially founded in April 1921 as an American-German company. Ultimately EFA stemmed from a short-lived attempt by Famous Players-Lasky and its distribution wing Paramount to make films abroad. The immediate founder of EFA was the Hamilton Theatrical Corp., which was half-owned by FP-L; UFA also had holdings in EFA. EFA either invested in smaller production companies or contracted the distribution rights for their films. These initially included Joe May-Film GmbH, Ernst Lubitsch-Film GmbH (founded in December 1920), and companies headed by Henny Porten and Ossi Oswalda. In forming his own company under EFA, Lubitsch brought with him some long-time collaborators, including scriptwriter Hanns Kräly, cinematographer Theodor Sparkuhl, and designer Kurt Richter. EFA set out to create the most modern studio in Europe, outfitted with state-of-the-art American equipment, including lamps and Bell & Howell cameras. In 1920, a large exhibition hall in the Zoo area of Berlin had been converted to a studio, the country’s largest. Unlike earlier film studios, its walls were not of glass; it was Germany’s first “dark” studio, a type that had become increasingly common in America since 1915. Such buildings were designed to be lit entirely artificially, allowing the filmmakers more control over the look of the shots. EFA took over what became the EFA-Atelier am Zoo studio in April 1921. It was nearly three times the size of Union’s main studio building (30 x 75 meters), and it was equipped with all the major types of American lighting equipment, far more varied than what German filmmakers were accustomed to. An American observer visiting the studio in 1922 to observe Lubitsch at work on Die Flamme (also made for EFA) remarked on the facility: “When I entered the Lubitsch studio I felt as though I had been plunged suddenly from Berlin into the depths of Hollywood. There were the same treacherous cables to ensnare your brogues, the same, or almost the same, arc lights, spots and banks” (Photoplay, December 1922, p. 96). Not surprisingly, the two films Lubitsch made for EFA display a strong American influence. The lighting style of Das Weib des Pharao is the most obvious indicator of the impact of Hollywood films on Lubitsch. Up until 1921, German filmmakers typically poured diffused light into a set from the front. The principles of directing dimmer fill-light onto the sets or using back-light to model the actors’ figures were almost unknown. In Das Weib, suddenly we see a heavy dependence on backlighting. In many interiors, selective light picks out parts of an impressive set without making it obtrusive. Edge lighting often creates depth by making the character stand out against a relatively dark background. Shooting night-time scenes outdoors had been difficult in Germany. Using the large American “sunlight” arcs, Lubitsch was able to shoot a number of exteriors at night, using spotlights from the sides and rear. In some cases flares (motivated as torches) supplement the arc light – a tactic Griffith had used 5 years earlier in the night battles in the Babylonian section of Intolerance. Here we see Lubitsch moving toward the mastery of lighting that he would gain in Hollywood. The film’s most familiar image, from a scene of the hero entering a ziggurat-style tomb, displays Lubitsch’s considerable understanding of how to apply the new equipment to which he had access. A single sunlight arc placed at a steep angle above the set picks out the vertical “steps” in the ceiling and illuminates the hero, his arm casting a single, unobtrusive, and crisp shadow. A second sunlight arc at the top of the steps outlines him in light and creates another sharp-edged shadow of his figure almost unnoticeably on the floor, where the bed nearly hides it. If working in EFA’s large, American-style studio altered Lubitsch’s lighting style noticeably, the sets for Das Weib des Pharao were largely in the old German epic style that had helped make Madame Dubarry so popular. Ernst Stern, who had designed the sets for Die Bergkatze, Lubitsch’s previous film, collaborated with Richter on Das Weib. As an amateur Egyptologist, he was in a position to render the sets, statues, and even some of the hieroglyphic texts with a semblance of authenticity. Moreover, Paramount’s backing meant that the film’s budget ran to $75,000, almost twice what Ameri­can experts had estimated Madame Dubarry had cost. Stern recalled that all of the sets were built full-sized, with no use of miniatures: “There was no difficulty about finance, as we were working for American backers. It was still the inflation period, and even a single dollar was quite a lot of money, so we had no time-robbing financial calculations to make, and we went to work cheerfully with a ‘Damn the expense’ atti­tude” (My Life, My Work, London, 1951, pp. 182-183). For earlier films, Lubitsch’s large sets had been built on the backlot at Union’s Tempelhof studio, but the sets for Das Weib were constructed on a leased stretch of land in a Berlin suburb. The site was surrounded by modern buildings, and the sets had to be tall enough to block them from the camera’s view. Stern’s sets prefigure those in Cecil B. De Mille’s The Ten Commandments, made for Paramount about a year later. Although the exterior sets were reminiscent of those in Lubitsch’s earlier epics, the use of selective lighting gave them a look that was new to German cinema. Despite these innovations, the acting style in the film carries on the tradition current throughout the German cinema of the 1910s, when actors from the stage had brought a fairly broad pantomimic acting to the screen. Perhaps partly because of its much larger budget and enormous sets, Das Weib draws extensively on an exaggerated acting style that bears little resemblance to the subtle performances that Lubitsch would soon draw from his actors in such films as The Marriage Circle. Having Paul Wegener and Emil Jannings star in the same film no doubt contributed considerably to the effect. – KRISTIN THOMPSON

 

 

DAS WEIB DES PHARAO (Theonis, la donna dei faraoni / The Loves of Pharaoh) 
(Ernst Lubitsch-Film GmbH, per/for Europäischen Film-Allianz GmbH, DE 1922) Re./dir: Ernst Lubitsch; scen: Norbert Falk, Hanns Kräly; f./ph: Theodor Sparkuhl, Alfred Hansen; scg./des: Ernst Stern, Kurt Richter; cost: Ernst Stern, Ali Hubert, Ernö Metzner; cast: Emil Jannings (Amenes, il faraone / the Pharaoh of Egypt), Dagny Servaes (Theonis, la schiava greca /a Greek slave), Harry Liedtke (Ramphis, figlio di Sothis/son of Sothis), Paul Wegener (Samlak, re d’Etiopia / King of Ethiopia), Lyda Salmonova (Makeda, sua figlia/his daughter), Paul Biensfeldt (Menon, il governatore /the Pharaoh’s Governor), Friedrich Kühne (Gran Sacerdote/High Priest), Albert Bassermann (Sothis, l’architetto del faraone / the Pharaoh’s architect); premiere: 21.2.1922 (Criterion, New York), 14.3.1922 (Ufa-Palast am Zoo, Berlin; mus: Eduard Künneke); lg. or./orig. l: 2976 m.; 35mm, 2246 m., 123’ (16 fps), imbibizione/tinted, Adoram München. Restauro/Preserved by Adoram München, Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv, Filmmuseum München, in collaborazione con/with the collaboration of George Eastman House; laboratorio/labwork by Alpha-Omega. Didascalie in tedesco / German intertitles (English version prepared for the simultaneous translation by Ulrich Ruedel)


La messa al bando dell’importazione di pellicole straniere durante la prima guerra mondiale aveva aiutato la crescita della cinematografia tedesca, così, grazie anche all’inflazione, l’immediato dopoguerra vide la realizzazione di una marea di filmoni. I produttori dovevano però far fronte a un grosso problema: i sentimenti anti-tedeschi avevano comportato la chiusura di molti importanti mercati stranieri. Per incrementare le possibilità di vendita all’estero, si cercò pertanto di evitare i temi nazionali, preferendo i soggetti storici ed esotici. Madame Dubarry di Ernst Lubitsch, annunciato come “produzione europea” per via dell’ambientazione francese e della sua star polacca, Pola Negri, fu la svolta che permise ai film tedeschi di sfondare in America. Acquistato dal mediatore David P. Howell per 40.000 dollari e presentato dalla First National al Criterion Theatre di New York nel dicembre del 1920, con il titolo di Passion, il film infranse tutti i record e realizzò in poche settimane profitti di molto superiori al suo costo. Nonostante le proteste di molti lavoratori del cinema americani, che vedevano in questi film tedeschi, importati a basso costo, una minaccia alla produzione nazionale, altri imprenditori statunitensi cercarono di far fortuna acquistando pellicole in Germania. Il colpaccio riuscì nel novembre del 1920 a Ben Blumenthal e Samuel Rachmann (rispettivamente impresario teatrale e promotore di incontri di pugilato e lotta libera) per conto della Famous Players-Lasky di Adolph Zukor e della Paramount. Pola Negri fu scritturata con la promessa di un grande compenso. Ernst Lubitsch ed il suo produttore, Paul Davidson, non rinnovarono il contratto con l’UFA e seguirono la Negri nel dicembre dello stesso anno. Lubitsch parlò delle sue nuove prospettive sulla rivista Der Film (febbraio 1921): “Adesso potrò realizzare film più spettacolari che mai. Nonostante il contratto americano, però, il mio stile non cambierà. Conserverò sempre le tipiche qualità tedesche, che per me sono una sceneggiatura attentamente e logicamente sviluppata e la tecnica recitativa.” Nell’aprile del 1921 Blumenthal, Rachmann e Zukor fondarono ufficialmente la Europäische Film-Allianz (EFA), mettendo in seguito sotto contratto i migliori artisti tedeschi: oltre a Lubitsch ed alla Negri, scritturarono i registi Joe May e Max Reinhardt; gli attori Emil Jannings, Harry Liedtke e Mia May; lo sceneggiatore Hanns Kräly; gli operatori Werner Brandes e Theodor Sparkuhl; gli scenografi Ernst Stern, Kurt Richter e Martin Jacoby-Boy. Grazie a spettacolari investimenti, l’EFA cercò di fondare una compagnia sulla stessa scala dell’UFA, con branche per la produzione e gli studi (EFA Studio-Film GmbH), per la distribuzione e le vendite (EFA Vertriebs GmbH) e per le proiezioni (EFA Theatre GmbH). Lubitsch, May e Reinhardt formarono proprie società, integrate nell’EFA e finanziariamente dipendenti da essa. I soldi non erano un problema, come spiegò Samuel Rachmann alla rivista Film-Kurier il primo gennaio del 1922: “Ho sempre detto a Lubitsch e a May che non devono preoccuparsi dei costi, ma solo di produrre i migliori film che si siano mai visti. Io non credo che si possa andare in bancarotta per via delle spese, ma solo perché le entrate sono troppo basse. Così, basta cercare di fare più soldi!” Subito dopo la fondazione dell’EFA, e la prima di Die Bergkatze (Lo scoiattolo, il 12 aprile del 1921, Lubitsch mise in cantiere la sua prima produzione EFA (Film-Kurier, 18 maggio 1921): “Avendo Pola Negri ancora degli impegni da onorare, abbiamo dovuto trovare un soggetto che fosse soprattutto stimolante per Emil Jannings.” Per Das Weib des Pharao, Lubitsch si concesse un tempo insolitamente lungo. Dall’elaborazione iniziale alla prima del film passarono sette mesi, un periodo in cui il prolifico regista avrebbe in passato girato almeno tre-quattro film. L’Ernst Lubitsch-Film affittò un terreno di 120.000 metri quadri alla periferia di Berlino, dove vennero montati set a grandezza naturale: un villaggio egizio con 50 case, diversi palazzi ed un alto muro tutt’attorno. Venne creata tutta una rete di infrastrutture che potesse ospitare la massa di comparse, con tanto di strade, forniture idriche, linee telefoniche, camerini per 8000 persone, perfino un centro medico. Scritturando Emil Jannings, Paul Wegener e Harry Liedtke, Lubitsch ebbe a disposizione in un colpo solo i tre più famosi attori del cinema tedesco dell’epoca. Invece, come protagonista femminile al posto di Pola Negri, ingaggiò la quasi sconosciuta Dagny Servaes, cui venne offerto un contratto a lungo termine dall’EFA. La lavorazione venne accompagnata da una campagna promozionale senza precedenti: i giornalisti erano portati in barca al luogo delle riprese, con tanto di bande d’ottoni, in modo da poter assistere alle grandi scene di battaglia tra Egizi ed Etiopi, con migliaia di comparse agli ordini di Lubitsch. Nello zoo di Berlino fu messa in scena per beneficenza una grande parata notturna con gli attori tutti in costume. Der Kinematograph riferì nel dicembre del 1921 che circa 250.000 studenti berlinesi, con i loro insegnanti, erano stati invitati in visita al set dopo la fine delle riprese, per poter studiare la cultura egizia. Ben prima che fosse ultimato, non si faceva altro che parlare del film. Per Lubitsch la principale innovazione furono le nuove lampade americane, che resero possibili effetti di luce totalmente nuovi nel “buio” studio dell’EFA e nelle scene notturne in esterni. Il regista poté riprendere le scene di massa usando diverse macchine da presa in contemporanea; la sequenza della battaglia fu filmata persino da una mongolfiera. Alla fine di novembre del 1921, le riprese erano ultimate. Per il montaggio, Lubitsch ebbe bisogno di quasi un’intera settimana (di solito gli bastavano tre giorni). Dopo un ricevimento dato l’1 dicembre dal presidente Ebert, desideroso di sostenere la vendita all’estero dei film tedeschi, l’8 dicembre ci fu la proiezione privata per il personale dell’EFA ed un gruppo di giornalisti selezionati, ed il 10 si tenne la festa d’addio. Il 13 dicembre Lubitsch e Davidson partirono per l’America con la prima copia di Das Weib des Pharao in valigia. A New York Ben Blumenthal aveva organizzato sontuosi ricevimenti e banchetti per presentare Lubitsch alla stampa americana e promuoverne il film. Il regista spiegò orgogliosamente ai giornalisti che alla realizzazione del film avevano collaborato 112.065 comparse. Davidson confermò il dato mostrando i conti dei fornitori dei costumi, anche se – ovviamente – le comparsate venivano contate in base ai giorni di lavoro. Nel suo desiderio di studiare il cinema americano, Lubitsch partecipò alle prime dei nuovi film di Stroheim, Griffith e Chaplin, da cui fu molto impressionato. Il regista era già rientrato in Germania quando al Criterion Theatre di New York, il 21 febbraio del 1922, si tenne la spettacolare prima del film. La pellicola era stata “montata e dotata di didascalie da Rudolph Bartlett” – che ne aveva tagliato circa 700 metri. Tra le scene eliminate, c’era la lapidazione di Ramphis e Theonis alla fine del film, così da dare alla versione americana il sospirato happy ending. Il titolo d’uscita in America fu The Loves of Pharaoh, giustamente definito dall’ Exhibitor’s Herald “inappropriato”. A parte questo, il film ricevette grandi consensi: “È un film davvero eccezionale,” affermò The New York Times (22 febbraio 1921). Solo la recitazione venne criticata (The Exhibitor’s Herald, 11 marzo 1921): “Le interpretazioni dei singoli attori non brillano come ci si aspetterebbe da stelle di tale grandezza e a volte alcune parti sono penosamente esagerate.” Il film ebbe 300 proiezioni al Criterion, ma in altre città incontrò meno favore. La prima tedesca del 14 marzo del 1922, all’ Ufa-Palast am Zoo, fu un evento mondano di spicco: “Neanche ai tempi gloriosi di Reinhardt nessuna prima è mai stata così affollata”, scrisse Kurt Pinthus (Das Tage-Buch, 18 marzo 1922). Ci fu il tutto esaurito per sei settimane, e la stampa specializzata riferì che durante le scene di battaglia ed alla fine di ogni rullo scoppiavano applausi spontanei. La partitura orchestrale, opera del noto compositore di operette Eduard Künneke (1885-1953), fu recensita dalla stampa separatamente: era la prima volta che la musica di un film veniva presa sul serio dalla critica tedesca. Pur lodato come un capolavoro di tecnica, Das Weib des Pharao suscitò anche qualche perplessità (Berliner Zeitung, 20 marzo 1922): “Spirito tedesco, manualità tedesca, arte tedesca – forse un po’ troppo stile americano: ecco perché non possiamo apprezzarlo come altri film di Lubitsch.” Vennero anche sottolineati i punti deboli della trama (Film-Kurier, 18 dicembre 1922): “Di rullo in rullo c’è un protagonista diverso e alla fine il pubblico non riesce a prendere le parti di nessuno.” Contrariamente alle attese, Das Weib des Pharao non fu il film di maggior successo di tutti i tempi. Non riuscì neanche ad eclissare Madame Dubarry, né a salvare l’EFA, che stava affrontando grosse difficoltà finanziarie a causa del suo comportamento della sua arroganza, dei massicci investimenti e dei costosi contratti. Ad un anno e mezzo dalla fondazione l’EFA fu liquidata. Zukor perse circa 2 milioni di dollari in questo sconsiderato investimento. Le sole risorse dell’EFA erano rinaste Pola Negri, che fu portata a Hollywood nel settembre del 1922, ed Ernst Lubitsch, che l’avrebbe seguita in dicembre. Oggi tutte le sei produzioni dell’EFA sono andate perdute o se ne conservano solo alcuni frammenti. Per decenni Das Weib des Pharao è stato disponibile solo in una copia del Filmmuseum München, ricavata da un duplicato negativo con didascalie in russo, conservato al Gosfilmofond, cui erano state aggiunte le didascalie in tedesco ricavate dalla sceneggiatura originale. La lunghezza era di circa la metà rispetto alla versione della prima. Per questa nuova ricostruzione, un progetto della Adoram München, del Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv e del Filmmuseum München, in collaborazione con la George Eastman House, la copia nitrato originale imbibita, con didascalie in russo (la base per il controtipo negativo sovietico), è stata rintracciata nei depositi del Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv e poi completata con l’aggiunta di scene da un altro frammento nitrato imbibito, con didascalie in italiano, appartenente alla collezione Roberto Pallme conservata presso la George Eastman House. Tra gli altri materiali aggiunti, l’ultima sequenza del film, con didascalie in tedesco, rinvenuta con il nitrato del film di Joe May Das indische Grabmal (Il sepolcro indiano), preservato dal Filmmuseum; alcune inquadrature scartate montate con spezzoni di altri film in un 16mm; scene dalla copia di preservazione russa che nel nitrato originale si erano deteriorate. Visto che il materiale in nitrato, assai rovinato, non poteva venire duplicato in modo soddisfacente con i metodi tradizionali, tutti i materiali sono stati scansiti, con risoluzione 2K, dalla ditta Alpha-Omega, specializzata nel trattamento dei nitrati danneggiati. Fotogramma dopo fotogramma, le immagini sono state stabilizzate, ripulite e riparate. Con l’aiuto della sceneggiatura, dei programmi dell’epoca, delle recensioni e di un frammento della scheda della censura, il film è stato ricostruito scena per scena, con le parti mancanti sostituite da fotografie e cartelli con didascalie esplicative. È stato un lavoro assai complesso poiché in tutti i frammenti in nitrato l’ordine delle scene era stato mutato, evidentemente per creare nuovi sviluppi narrativi. La versione russa era stata ottenuta a partire da almeno due copie diverse, con conseguenti differenze di colore e con le stesse scene a volte usate in momenti diversi del film. Nella versione italiana della George Eastman House, il materiale di Lubitsch era stato combinato con una scena di battaglia attorno ad un castello medievale tratta da un film non meglio identificato. La versione digitale è stata ritrasferita su pellicola con il formato del muto. L a musica compsta per la prima berlinese da Eduard Künneke è stata arrangiata per questa ricostruzione da Berndt Heller e registrata dall’orchestra della Saarländischer Rundfunk. Alle Giornate del Cinema Muto verrà presentato il 35mm del film sincronizzato con il DVD del suddetto accompagnamento musicale. – Stefan Droessler



(Soyrce/Fonte: http://www.cinetecadelfriuli.org/gcm/edizione2005/Lubitsch_Weib.html)