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If You Like ‘Damage’ Why Not Try ‘Flesh and The Devil’

There are a few stars who transcend the films they appear in, actors and actresses whose names are known by people who have never seen one of their films and would not be able to pick them out of a line. Greta Garbo is just such a star. The name helps (not her original one of course) but her early retirement and reclusive nature also aided in making her one of cinema’s most enigmatic stars. To some people she remains a symbol of the silent era and it would be shame to do a book on the subject without including one of her films. ‘Flesh and the Devil’ is an obvious choice, not just because that has to be one of the best names for a film ever, but also because it’s the film that really sent Garbo stratospheric. It’s probably also Garbo’s best silent film, although to be honest that’s not saying much, once she got into talkies we have ‘Grand Hotel’, ‘Ninotchka’ and many other films that seem worthy of her box office status, but during her silent career one honestly wonders how she became a star in the first place.

The answer to that wondering is more than a little tied up in ‘Flesh and the Devil’. Garbo’s appeal was always and still remains hard to pin down so it helps to have her the object of someone else’s unquestioning lust, someone who is looking at her the way the men in the audience are. And when the character doing the lusting is played by John Gilbert, one of the biggest male stars and sex symbols of the time, then the women in the audience have something to look at too. And when you add to all that the common knowledge that the lust displayed on the screen had spilled out into a real life relationship then you have box office gold. ‘Flesh and the Devil’ is all about lust.

Which is why ‘Damage’ is such a good comparison film, it has the same subject matter and thus the same problem to overcome. When a film is predicated entirely on lust then we, the audience, must believe that these characters are obsessed with each other, that their desire is entirely uncontrollable. Whatever other issues these two films may have, and neither is beyond criticism, that decidedly is not one of them.

So that’s the place to start, with our two couples. From the first time Leo Von Harden (John Gilbert) lays eyes on Felicitas (Greta Garbo) then his passion is obvious, the intensity of Gilbert’s stare is enough in itself to confirm all the rumours about the real lie romance that unfolded during the making of the film. It’s worth noting that the first time the characters meet is also the first scene the couple filmed, they were just meeting themselves and the camera captures a near genuine reaction. Leo’s love for Felicitas is what drives the film, the love is not one sided, but the intensity is. Which may well also have been mirrored in real life, Gilbert was apparently obsessed with his co star, she certainly loved him but perhaps not in the same way. Leo’s actions too speak of his passion, they sleep together within hours of meeting (inferred of course), he fights a duel over her (she has not told him she is married) as a consequence of which he is banished to military service in Africa for three years, swearing he will return for her. And he does, to find that she has married his best friend Ulrich von Eltz who has no idea about their history (Leo lies about the reason for the duel to protect the honour of Felicitas and her late husband).

For Stephen Fleming (Jeremy Irons) in ‘Damage’ the other man is his own son Martyn (Rupert Graves). From the moment he meets Martyn’s fiancee Anna (Juliette Binoche) then there is an attraction between them, passionate, firey and uncontrollable. This being a more modern film, subject to more relaxed censorship, the sex is more explicit in ‘Damage’, much more explicit. In fact the explicitness of the sex scenes has rather taken over this film and tends to be all people look at. Certainly they communicate well the overwhelming intensity of the couple’s passion, the sense that they barely have any say in what they are doing, but they also chart the escalation of the affair. There are six sex scenes (one occurring off screen), during the first they do not speak before, during or after, by the last however they eat together first, they chat, they laugh; their physical intimacy has grown to an actual one, lust has become love, and it’s here that the wheels fall off. As in ‘Flesh and the Devil’, it is the woman who is the less obsessive and who appears most at fault, conniving even.

I mentioned the implication that Felicitas and Leo have sex in ‘Flesh and the Devil’ and it’s worth looking at that section because sex is such a large part of ‘Damage’ and because it’s a nicely played scene, and one which neatly gets past the increasingly watchful eyes of Hollywood’s morality police. When Felicitas and Leo meet properly for the first time they dance, again so much is conveyed in the passion of Gilbert’s stare. They slip out into the garden and have a first, tremendously cathartic kiss, it feels that we have been waiting for this for years. From the kiss we cut straight to them in bed looking blissfully exhausted. The sequence represent the sex that can’t be shown, the dance is the act itself, the kiss the climax followed by the post coital glow. It’s reasonably obvious and very well executed, but says nothing explicit, anyone raising the issue has nothing specific to point to as being lewd or lascivious.

In terms of style the films are worlds apart; the modern one low key and grey while the silent is massive in every sense. In many ways ‘Flesh and the Devil’ is the quintessential MGM film, it’s looks fantastic, a surface style and glossy glamour that practically shines off the screen. The castles in which all the characters live are huge and luxurious and the emotions of the characters are correspondingly huge. During the second half of the film things get increasingly melodramatic and acting veers dangerously close to over acting, particularly in Lars Hanson, who is far better in the two films he made with Lillian Gish (‘The Wind’ and ‘The Scarlet Letter’), then he was under the control of a much more skilled in Victor Seastrom. Director Clarence Brown is another element that makes this a typical MGM feature. MGM was a good home for writers, and for actors too, but it was never a suitable environment for directors who were there to do what they were told, few true ‘artists’ stayed their long. Brown was a company man, long time friend, and eventually pallbearer, of MGM head Louis B. Mayer, a director who did as he was told and made films with little inspiration but considerable speed and competence.

Louis Malle however is a much respected and talented director, the performances he draws from his leads are uniformly excellent. There is nothing remotely ‘big’ about ‘Damage’, it’s insularity seems to reflect that trait in the English upper class. There is a detachment about the way much of the story is told that is reminiscent of Stanley Kubrick, it is only when the couple are together that the film comes to life. This provides a stark contrast, outside of the world that Anna and Stephen create for themselves everything is drab and mundane, and this mudanity is played up to the hilt. Stephen’s job as a government minister appears a chore, his home life is run of the mill, his conversations with his wife never touch on intimacy. It’s a bold technique as, at it’s worst, the film (which is by no means long) feels like a very drab experience punctuated by sex scenes.

What ought to really bring both films to life is that central theme of betrayal and the tension that ought to come from whether or not these affairs will be discovered. Very sensibly Clarence Brown starts his film by establishing the closeness of Leo and Ulrich, the scenes of them in uniform together make this clear and if further clarification was needed (which arguably it isn’t) Brown gets out his mallet and hammers the point home with a flashback to them as children becoming blood brothers on an island in the Von Harden family lake (no German castle should be without one), which they call their ‘Island of Friendship’. It’s a little unsubtle for me but the point is made. When Leo returns from his exile to find that Ulrich has married Felicitas he deliberately keeps away, doing the right thing. Ulrich has no idea he has married his friend’s old lover, while Felicitas does, she has done this knowingly, and she is not willing to let Leo go now, steadily luring him back. The shadow of discovery is always over them, the church Pastor knows their secret, Ulrich’s sister Hertha (who loves Leo herself) suspects. In many ways this ought to be more compelling than it is, but the melodramatic way in which it is played out takes something away from it, at least to a modern audience. This is not a long film but it feels like one. The problem of having a film that is sold on the passion between the two leads is that when they are apart (and Leo is trying to avoid Felicitas), things can become dull.

As for ‘Damage’, again Malle takes a brave decision to focus exclusively on his theme of lust. This means that the subject of betrayal is oddly background for a film about a father sleeping with his son’s fiancee. For starters father and son, although not estranged, are clearly not close, nowhere near the demonstrative relationship of Ulrich and Leo. Guilt does not seem to enter Stephen’s head until late in the day, when he meets this film’s equivalent to ‘Flesh and the Devil’s Pastor, Anna’s mother. Played by the excellent Leslie Caron, Anna’s mother is a much needed colourful character and the only one who guesses about the affair (knowing her daughter well). She warns Stephen not to continue and he calls things off. But when Anna tempts him back the guilt does not return, it was momentary. More troubling is that there is next to no tension, they are never even close to being found out. Even when Stephen’s daughter sees him and Anna leaving a room together (just after Anna and Martyn get engaged and on Stephen’s wife’s birthday- that’s a proper affair!), and the audience might legitimately think that this is leading somewhere, the event is simply brushed off. This is to maintain the focus of the film on the passion, what will happen if it is allowed to continue unchecked. Unfortunately it again makes the film feel longer than it is because there is little to keep us watching, we know something is going to happen but we are just waiting for it rather than being led there.

Of course the main thing these films could be said to have in common is that they place the lions share of the blame on the woman. Exactly how Stephen and Anna first get together is left fairly unclear, but from what we see it appears to be Anna who makes the first move, her seduction is a subtle one, acknowledging the attraction between them and welcoming it. When Stephen talks about leaving his wife Ingrid (Miranda Richardson) to be with Anna she is completely uninterested, she does not wish to end the affair but has not intention of leaving Martyn either. Of course Stephen is to blame as well, he is after all knowingly conducting an affair with his son’s fiancee and his motivations in making the affair something more permanent and open are purely selfish, he is not doing it to tell the truth but to be with Anna exclusively. That said he does call off the affair and it is Anna who restarts it, setting them up with a flat in which they can meet regularly even after the marriage. Both are perfectly happy to continue with this but it is really the aftermath of the affair that paints the most unpleasant picture of Anna, which I will come to later.

The blame is more definitely apportioned in ‘Flesh and the Devil’. Although Leo is not exactly blameless it is Felicitas who is really responsible. When they first meet she kisses him and takes him back to her home where they sleep together, all without mentioning that she has a husband. This leads to a duel and her husband’s death. She and Leo swear to remain true to each other but he comes home from Africa to find her married to Ulrich. Ulrich has no idea of what he is doing but Felicitas has, and it is notable that she has no interest in Ulrich until the subject of money comes up, he is very wealthy. On his return, at the advice of the Pastor, Leo tries to do the right thing but Felicitas will not let him go, trying to restart the affair until Leo’s will gives way and they prepare to elope. To this point we can perhaps believe that this is driven by love, but then, when Leo and Felicitas are about to elope, Felicitas changes her mind, just after receiving a diamond bracelet from Ulrich. She decides to stay with Ulrich but makes it clear to Leo that they will continue with their affair, a decision very reminiscent of the one made in ‘Damage’ except that Leo is having none of it, he in fact tries to strangle Felicitas. (An extreme reaction but again, this is a film of huge emotions.) When Ulrich walks in on Leo and Felicitas another duel ensues between the two friends this time, and for a while Felicitas is happy to let it happen. I’ll come to exactly what happens next later. Of course it’s not just the story that paints Felicitas as the devil-woman, it’s the imagery as well, most memorably in church as the Pastor, seeing the looks between the pair, delivers a magnificently over the top sermon on David and Uriah (a similar situation from the Bible), as he does this and Leo looks horror struck with guilt, Felicitas calmly applies her lipstick. It’s a nice image.

Annoyingly this image is one of only a few. Cameraman William Daniels’s lighting, particularly of Garbo whom he would often shoot, is excellent, but other than that his camerawork is little better than standard (the first duel is an outstanding exception). Daniels and Brown try but come up short. When Leo returns from Africa the image of Felicitas is always there, double exposed before him, it ought to work but it just looks a little silly, what works far better is the word ‘Felicitas’ superimposed in time with hoof beats or train engines. Shot choice in ‘Damage’ meanwhile is excellent and eloquent but the pictures are all saying the same thing, which in the best of circumstances can make a film feel like a short story stretched to fill 106 minutes. And the situation is made worse in ‘Damage’ because the story the pictures are telling is one of how boring life is outside of this affair.

In both films the real questions being asked are; ‘is this love?’ and ‘does it matter?’. And the respective endings are informed by this. Depending on your definition of love (and there’s a few of those knocking about), Felicitas does not seem to love Leo. For all her obsession with him and inability to let him go she is perfectly happy to be with Ulrich as well, most people would say that this argues against love. But when Leo and Ulrich, two lifelong friends divided by a woman, go to blow each other’s brains out on their Island of Friendship, she does not just leave them to it. At first she does, even after entreaties from Hertha, but when Hertha offers up a prayer Felicitas finds a conscience and runs out across the frozen lake to stop the fight. Is it to save both men? Or just Leo, who is planning to let himself be shot since he feels he deserves it. We never find out because the ice on the frozen lake gives way and Felicitas plunges to her death while the men have decided to bury their differences for the sake of their friendship. It’s a satisfying and morally sound ending (which mattered a lot at the time, especially at MGM) and smacks of Divine intervention.

It ought to go without saying that neither film could end without a death, clarifying that lust and betrayal can only end badly. But while films of the mid-twenties had a definite preference for punishing the immoral, more recent films are less worried. Anna is the least hurt by the ending of ‘Damage’ and it is the blameless Martyn who, on finding his father and fiancee having sex in a flat, falls to his death over the banister of the stairwell. Now Stephen is crushed, finally feeling the guilt that should surely have gnawed at him throughout. Anna however simply walks away, possibly there is more beneath the surface but we never see it. Unlike Felicitas however, Anna is given some motivation for her tendency towards unhealthy relationships, her brother, who loved her more than a brother should, committed suicide over her. But even with this, it’s hard to see Anna as anything other than callous and selfish.

But this is not the end of ‘Damage’. While ‘Flesh and the Devil’ concludes with the death of Felicitas and reuniting of Leo and Ulrich, ‘Damage’ has a lengthy coda in which some obvious things happen (Ingrid shouts at Stephen, he resigns and leaves the country) and some things are left up in the air (exactly what becomes of Anna is only hinted at). The reason for having this section (which introduces a voice over perplexingly late in the day) seems to be that to complete the examination of lust one must look at the consequences, the damage as it were. There’s something to be said for that but I still feel that it dilutes the impact of the main consequence, Martyn’s sudden and unexpected death, which would have made a far stronger ending. That said, Malle does find an arresting final image; Stephen has mounted on his wall a blown up picture of himself, Anna and Martyn which he seems to spend the bulk of his time now staring at, he lives only in this image, this doomed moment.

VERDICT

In a way both these films are sold on sex. The reality of the sex scenes in ‘Damage’ certainly boosted it’s box office and the fact that the two leads were known to be having sex in ‘Flesh and the Devil’ was cause enough for many to go and see it (a phenomenon repeated with Elisabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in ‘Cleopatra’ and Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman in ‘Eyes Wide Shut’). The ‘novelty value’ really did help these films perform.

The fact is that I’m not  a fan of either, they both feel like they’re stretching a simple idea out far beyond it’s capacity, they’re not long but they feel it. The word most often used to describe ‘Flesh and the Devil’ is ‘stodgy’, and I’d concur with that, it is a lumpen and heavy film, showing little of the grace that the best silent film does. ‘Damage’ meanwhile is curiously directionless, taking a thoroughly engaging premise and making it dull. This is likely to be at least partly due to a lack of empathy. The situation may be similar in ‘Flesh and the Devil’ but Leo does not know Felicitas is married, he is separated from her for three years and on his return does try to do the right thing, we can sympathise. We cannot sympathise with Stephen, nor Anna, for all her screwed up childhood, and the other characters are too peripheral or are portrayed as boring, there is no one to capture our interest. Without someone to focus on, someone we care about to follow, then the film again sinks into being interminable.

Having said all of that ‘Damage’ is certainly the better film, it is peerlessly (if somewhat soullessly) executed, and I would say it’s the more enjoyable too, but it would be wrong to end without looking at the better things about ‘Flesh and the Devil’. The first half has all the energy and comes close to brilliance despite it’s occasionally stolid execution. And the performances of the leads are reason enough to watch now as in the twenties, never has chemistry between two people been so evident on film. Their scenes are electrifying.

In real life as on film the affair of Gilbert and Garbo did not have a happy ending. Their wedding (a joint one with that of King Vidor and Eleanor Boardman) was marred by the fact that Garbo did not show up. In the wake of this, according to some (and stories vary a lot), Louis B. Mayer made a comment about Garbo that upset Gilbert who punched him. Mayer was arguably the most powerful man in Hollywood and that, along with the talkies, is said to have ended Gilbert’s career. One of his last important roles was in ‘Queen Christina’, Garbo, playing the lead, requested him When they made ‘Flesh and the Devil’ Gilbert was one of the biggest stars in the world, his name was emblazoned above the titles while Garbo’s sat beneath, but by the time of ‘Queen Christina’ (1933) the situation was reversed. Despite Gilbert’s physical decline (his alcohol consumption was massive) their scenes still have a remarkable passion. Gilbert died three years later aged just 38.

If you have feedback, you can e-mail Robin here.

Copyright © 2008 Robin Bailes