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Translated
and annotated by Frank Noack, edited by David Gasten
The following are translations of German texts that feature information on Pola during the period that she was making her greatest sound film, Mazurka (1935). These texts are almost impossible to come by in English-speaking countries and are a welcome addition for anyone interested in this lesser-known period of Pola’s career.
I. Film-Kurier (Germany's leading daily film magazine; Saturday, January 19, 1935)POLA
NEGRI BACK IN BERLIN
Yesterday
evening at 9:32, Pola Negri arrived at the Friedrichstrasse Train Station.
Willi Forst, director of the first [sound] film she will make in Berlin
(the place where she originally developed as an artist), and Mr. von
Zimburg, director of the Rota press department, received the artist at
Bremerhaven, where she had arrived in the morning with the
"Bremen". She will
stay here for two months for the production of Mazurka. After this,
she will return to Hollywood, where she will appear in the Metro film The
Good Earth. (Note:
Rota is the name of the company that originally released Mazurka)
Then
the cast was considered. We thought about Olga Tschechowa [a Russian
actress who appeared in many German silents and early talkies, as well as
the French film The Italian Straw Hat (1927) and the British film Moulin
Rouge (1929)], and about Trude Hesterberg.
We thought of a young, still unknown actress: Hilde Krahl, whom
Forst would later star in his film Serenade. All these propositions
were rejected. Until Forst one day told Pressburger and Rabinowitsch (Kreuder
is referring to Arnold Pressburger and Gregor Rabinovich, the producers):
"Gentlemen, don't beat me to death on the spot! I've got pictures
from America. If this woman still looks the way she did on those pictures,
she is very special. That woman is Pola Negri." Pressburger and
Rabinowitsch clasped their hands together [a gesture of horror] and rolled
their eyes. Pressburger was the first to calm down. "Listen, Forst!
This woman must be at least eighty." Archives were consulted, and it
was found out that she wasn't eighty, but that she was at the most fifty.
The treatment was sent to Pola Negri, she principally
answered “yes”. There were an awful lot of telegrams back and
fourth, because Pressbuger and Rabinowitsch didn't want to be
contractually obligated before having seen Pola Negri in person. They
didn't want to rely on the photographs. (...) She
was asked to come to Germany and arrived with the next ship from New York
to Bremerhaven. Forst also went to Bremerhaven, along with his friend Eddi
Jürgensen and myself. Jürgensen was to teach Pola Negri the German
language. She had mastered many languages, all of them equally badly.
(...) Pola had already received a high fee in advance, and the voyage was
paid for by the producers, needless to say. We arrived with cold feet and
sweaty palms at Bremerhaven in the morning. At nine o’clock we were
allowed to set foot on the "Bremen". A well-dressed pageboy led
us up to the first class cabins. (...) We waited. We didn't exchange a
single word. Everybody looked out of some window onto the port. Suddenly
the door opened. Pola stood in front of us, in an incredible flowing,
lilac gown, with snow-white makeup and black hair, more beautiful and
interesting than ever: the queen of the silent movies. [Although I
remained standing, i]n my mind I went down on my knees because of the
grandeur and personality of this woman. She really hadn't aged; she seemed
to have arrived from another world. After she kindly reached out her hand
to us for a kiss, she suddenly seemed a bit tipsy. She trembled a bit and
held on to the back of a chair. Then she excused herself and quickly went
out of the room. We stayed back, irritated. After a few minutes she came
back to the cabin. Her eyes were enlarged and shining, but I had the
impression as if a sort of veil were over her face. On the side of her
nose I noticed small crystal spots. I knew what it was; my cocaine-loving
landlady Baumann had taught me that. (...)
The
following evening we arrived in Berlin and put our valuable import goods
in the Hotel Adlon, where the Allianz (Kreuder means the Cine-Allianz, the
production company of Mazurka) had reserved several rooms. After
some days of relaxation, there were the first music rehearsals for Pola
Negri. I had to get to know her timbre, the way she sang. (...) Her voice
sounded quite good, but it was impossible for her to [sing higher than] a
certain level. (...) "Negri
is blacklisted", Forst sighed. "She is a Jewess". (...) The
whole film was, the way we had conceived it, not realizable with another
actress. (...) There was no other [way around it, and] we had to tell Pola
Negri personally about the decision of the minister. (...) Wordless, Forst
gave her the letter the minister had written. Pola read it slowly, without
any visible agitation. She stayed calm, went to her small house-bar,
poured herself a triple shot of whisky, swallowed it quickly and asked:
"What's the name of this man who signed this letter?" "Dr.
Joseph Goebbels", Rabinowitsch said gloomily. "Gebbeles?"
Pola laughed. "But that's a yiddish name! How can he be a minister in
this state?" (...) Actually Pola managed to get an appointment with
Goebbels that day. How she had managed that, nobody knows. And some hours
later she had an appointment with Adolf Hitler. (...) When we talked about
Goebbels in Pola's presence, she just smiled. Once, after her fourth
chalice of whisky - on the set she always drank whisky from a silver
chalice - she said mischievously: "And Goebbels is a Jew after
all". We were dumbfounded. "Why, Pola?" "Now, I have
seen [everything]" (...) We
had no difficulties with Pola Negri. She was generous, warm-hearted and
candid. Whenever I came to her room for music rehearsals, she let the
champagne flow and received me with such cordiality that I quickly [came
to feel like] I had known her for many years. Despite Jürgensen's best
efforts to teach her the German language, she continued to talk in her
peculiar mixture of Polish, English, Yiddish, French, and German. She also
continued to receive a silver chalice each day on the set, discreetly
covered by a serviette, which contained pure whisky. At first we were
afraid that, with such heavy drinking, Pola Negri would spend the shooting
tumbling through the sets. But if you didn't know, you couldn't guess
[that] she had [been drinking]. One bottle of whisky each day contributed
to her well-being. However, at least during the shooting, she didn't take
any more cocaine". Peter
Kreuder: Nur Puppen haben keine Tränen. Erinnerungen. 1971. Pages
241 ff. (This
autobiography should be read with some caution. Amongst other films,
Kreuder claims to have scored The Blue Angel, never mentioning
Frederick Hollaender and Franz Waxman, and never explaining why no source
lists him.
Also he claims to have written the score for the Hollywood movie Way
of a Gaucho in 1952, allegedly starring Clark Gable; in the
filmography at the end of his book, the leading man is called Gary Cooper,
when in fact it was merely Rory Calhoun, and while Kreuder may have had
some work on this western during his stay in South America, he is not the
credited composer. He did, however, write an excellent score for Mazurka,
and parts of his tale are confirmed by Forst's recollections.)
III.
Autobiography of Willi Forst, director of Mazurka (Willi
Forst, director of Mazurka, was intrigued by a newspaper report
about a 40-year-old mother who had shot a man who wanted to seduce her
daughter, and who had seduced the mother as well when she was a young
girl. The mother was found not guilty. Forst and screenwriter Hans Rameau
decided to turn this story into a film, starring Pola Negri. Forst knew
Carl Laemmle, who put him into contact with Pola.)
Now
came a backlash I didn’t reckon with. "Forst! Are you insane? Negri
made a film in Paris three years ago. They could only photograph her
through sack-linen". The film couldn't be released. And Negri was
already sailing with the "Bremen" towards Bremerhaven. The day
of her arrival approached. Along with the [head] press agent from the
release company, I drove to Bremerhaven. (...) When, without a doubt, the
last passenger had left the ship, a ship officer came towards us:
"Herr Forst, Frau Negri is waiting for you". We went onto the
ship and were led into a cabin. We knocked. A sonorous female voice called
[in English]: "Come in". Oh my God, I thought—she doesn't even
speak German anymore. We entered. A luxurious apartment [with s]alon,
bedroom, and bath. (...) The bathroom door opened and Negri stood in front
of us. (...) I quickly calculated: Ernst Lubitsch had brought her to
Berlin shortly after World War I, as a young ballet dancer of the Warsaw
Opera. That was around 1920 and she was around 20. Thus, now she must have
been 35. She looked much older. No wonder, with her living habits. She
came from the bathroom, having forgotten to clean her face; under her nose
one could clearly see snow. She not only took cocaine, she also drank like
a fish. After shooting [for Mazurka] had ended - after about six
weeks - more than a dozen empty bottles were found in her wardrobe: gin,
whisky, (...) Before my trip to Bremerhaven I managed to get the French
film that had starred her. She didn't look badly in it. For her close-ups
she had been photographed through thick veils, which hadn't been
necessary, because as soon as she was a certain distance from the camera,
she looked quite good. Willi Forst. Posthumously published autobiographical fragments in: Armin Loacker (Ed.): Willi Forst. Ein Filmstil aus Wien. Film Archiv Austria; 2003. Page 571 ff. IV.
Autobiography of Albrecht Schoenhals, Pola’s co-star in Mazurka Yes,
she knew the melodramatic tones. Passion was her life elixir, out of which
she rejuvenated herself. Her desire to shake the world with her erotic
temperament seemed unappeasable. When we rehearsed our big seduction
scene, she told me, full of feverish emphasis: "Albrecht! The scene
must get much more [copying her accent] earrroatic! Much more sexual! We
are the most earroatic couple in all Europe! In Paris I have shot scenes:
partner carries me downstairs. Tears down the front part of my dress - we
can't do that hearrrre!" One easily felt how much she suffered. (...)
She was a magnificent colleague. I could listen to her for hours, when she
told me humorous stories with her dark, cracked voice, whose truth was not
always confirmable. She lived out of the richness of her emotions and
continuously produced herself in the most enchanting manner. Albrecht Schoenhals/Anneliese Born: Immer zu zweit. Erinnerungen. Limes, Wiesbaden & München. 1977 Page 164. V.
Joseph Goebbels, The Goebbels Diaries.
Diary entry for November 13, 1935. Mazurka
by Forst with Pola Negri. Really virtuously made. And Negri acts
breathtakingly. VI.
Variety, January 1, 1936.
(Variety
magazine regularly reviewed important new films even if they were not
shown in the U.S., unlike the New York Times, which only reviewed
films that got shown in New York.) “Pola's
comeback into the Teutonic film arena is a victorious re-entry. No one had
been able to fill that niche which has stood vacant ever since her
departure for Hollywood some years ago. (...) After this, the
unsatisfactory co-operation between Negri and Hollywood remains more of a
mystery than ever".
(back to Articles About Pola's Films)
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