Le Golem (1936)
Directed by Julien Duvivier

Film Review

It was in the 1930s that the French film director Julien Duvivier was at his most productive and artistically inspired.  Amid the slew of now highly regarded classics - La Tête d'un homme (1933), La Bandera (1935), La Belle équipe (1936), Pépé le Moko (1937) - there are many lesser works that have fallen somewhat by the wayside but yet deserve a fresh reappraisal. These include two of Duvivier's least typical films - Le Golem (1936) and La Charrette fantôme (1939) - which offer a rare excursion into the realm of fantasy and horror.  Both films are of interest because they reference earlier masterpieces of the genre - Paul Wegener's Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam (1920) and Victor Sjöström's The Phantom Carriage (1921).  Duvivier's Le Golem is in fact a direct sequel to Wegener's film, loosely based on a play by Jiri Voskovec and Jan Werich.

Le Golem is also unusual in that it was not filmed in France, but at the Barrandov Studios in Prague, something that gives it a very distinctive feel which sets it apart from Duvivier's other films of this decade.  The set design, camerawork and lighting are all visibly influenced by German expressionism of the 1920s, but whilst such visual artistry is of a high order it does not entirely conceal the budgetary limitations.  The sets occasionally look cheap and are all too readily revealed to be made of cardboard and polystyrene when the Golem finally goes on its killer rampage.  It is hard not to cringe when the clay colossus starts bending iron bars that are clearly made of rubber and  knocking down walls constructed from blocks of Jablite.  The film's other notable flaw is a rambling plot that, setting a template for subsequent disaster movies, forces the spectator to sit through over an hour of tedious talky intrigue before the narrative finally comes to life and plunges us into an orgy of wild and bloody confusion.  It's also a let down that when the Golem finally does wake up (fifteen minutes before the end of the film), he looks like a poor man's Frankenstein Monster - a fat, middle-aged man with an anger management problem.  The Golem is much scarier when he is just a lifeless statue, shot from below and eerily lit from one side.

Thankfully, there's enough star power in the cast to keep us awake until the Boris Karloff tribute act gets underway.  Harry Baur - the lead of several earlier Duvivier films, notably the director's first hit, David Golder (1931) - is the obvious casting choice for the role of the debauched and ever so slightly deranged Emperor Rudolf II.  Baur was always at his best in colourful roles such as this and his unashamedly over-the-top performance is the film's main delight - he is far more frightening than the animated lump of clay of the film's title.  Roger Karl is almost as chilling (with a genuinely creepy Nazi-like aura) as Baur's right-hand man, Chancellor Lang.  If we dare to liken Baur's Emperor Rudolf to Adolf Hitler, it naturally follows that Lang is Heinrich Himmler.  Among the rest of the principal cast, only Jany Holt distinguishes herself, as the stoical heroine Rachel.

In common with much of Duvivier's oeuvre, there is a darkly humorous vein to the film, which can be regarded not so much as your classic monster movie but more a grim satire on human credulity.  In one memorable scene, Baur is easily duped into accepting gifts of supposedly priceless artefacts from a charlatan who takes obvious pleasure in exploiting his gullibility.  These include alleged nails from Noah's Ark and a jewelled sword that apparently was once in the possession of the Emperor Charlemagne.  Held up before him as the most blatant of phallic symbols, the sword positively drives Baur to a frenzy of desire, the words "I must have it!" visibly stencilled in every part of his face.  Here's one power-mad despot who is clearly in need of a substitute penis.  The only thing preventing us from enjoying Le Golem as a wicked black comedy is the fact that it is so depressingly prescient of the fate that would befall the Jews in the ghettos within a few years of the film being made.  Maybe this is why it remains one of Duvivier's most overlooked films.

Film Synopsis

In the early years of the 17th century, the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II rules Bohemia with an iron grip whilst pursuing the alchemists' dream of endowing inanimate matter with life.  Foremost of his victims are the Jews of the Prague ghettos, whom he persecutes with a vengeance, driving them to the brink of starvation.  The Jews take comfort from the legend of the Golem, a clay statue that, in an earlier era of persecution, came to life to save them from their oppressor.  Presently, the Golem stands inert and abandoned in the attic of the Rabbi Jacob.  Offended by the Emperor's decision to marry Isabel of Spain, the Countess Strada steals the statue but it is later recovered by the chief of police and taken to the imperial palace.  Rudolf is incensed when his attempt to bring the statue to life is unsuccessful and he proceeds to order the arrest and execution of the Jewish leaders.  The Golem is the Jews' one last hope, and in their hour of direst need he is not about to let them down...