In 1937, French director Julien Duvivier delivered Pépé le Moko to the silver screen.
Based on the 1937 novel of the same name by Henri La Barthe, Pépé – the tale of a charismatic criminal yearning for a life and love beyond his reach – was adapted for film by Duvivier, author La Barthe, Jacques Constant, and Henri Jeanson. The feature’s Wikipedia.org entry indicates that at the time of the production the French film industry was experiencing a surge in emphasis on dialogue, what with the relatively recent introduction of sound to the theatrical experience; consequently, the writers’ expended a great deal of effort into crafting a script and its memorable characters into the people, place, and circumstances worthy of such a depiction and verbal repartee. The result was a compelling motion picture that some have suggested served as one of the earliest influences of film noir, that distinctive style of storytelling which pushed the boundaries aesthetically of what was possible when recounting tales somewhat darker and more desperate than what had become the studio norm for so long.
As can happen with critically acclaimed foreign productions, Hollywood took notice. After securing the U.S. rights to the domestic release of Pépé, film producer Walter Wanger effectively shelved the feature (until 1941) so that he could fast-track his very own interpretation of the La Barthe novel. Wanger hired director John Cromwell – who had an already impressive track record at the time which included 1934’s Of Human Bondage, 1936’s Little Lord Fauntleroy, and 1937’s The Prisoner Of Zenda to his name – and then brought in screenwriter John Howard Lawson and successful novelist James M. Cain to pen the shooting script. Actor Charles Boyer – a popular face whose star was on-the-rise – was cast in the central role as Pépé le Moko; and the glamorous starlet of Hedy Lamarr was cast Gaby, le Moko’s love interest and his inevitable ‘fatal attraction.’
The result? 1938’s Algiers was born, and it became a modest sensation all of its own.
Relying once more on the data from the film’s Wikipedia.org entry, Algiers became a box office sensation largely on Lamarr’s presence. In fact, the film is credited as her American screen debut, making it reasonable to suspect that her work in 1933’s German-language Ecstasy – where the screen siren appeared fully nude – buoyed the audience’s curiosity to the point wherein they couldn’t refuse purchasing tickets. Boyer, too, benefitted greatly from his participation in the picture, earning a 1939 Academy Awards nomination – his second – in the category of ‘Best Actor In A Leading Role.’ The picture earned three other nods – a ‘Best Actor In A Supporting Role’ nomination for Gene Lockhart along with citations for ‘Best Art Direction’ and ‘Best Cinematography’ – and yet at the end of the evening no one involved took home any gold statues. That honor was ultimately secured by the French original which, in 1941, finally played on U.S. screens with Wanger’s blessing and secured the title of ‘Best Foreign Film’ for the U.S.’s National Board Of Review.
What a tangled web we weave … not all that dissimilar from the short, troubled, and tragic life of Pépé le Moko himself.
Based on the 1937 novel of the same name by Henri La Barthe, Pépé – the tale of a charismatic criminal yearning for a life and love beyond his reach – was adapted for film by Duvivier, author La Barthe, Jacques Constant, and Henri Jeanson. The feature’s Wikipedia.org entry indicates that at the time of the production the French film industry was experiencing a surge in emphasis on dialogue, what with the relatively recent introduction of sound to the theatrical experience; consequently, the writers’ expended a great deal of effort into crafting a script and its memorable characters into the people, place, and circumstances worthy of such a depiction and verbal repartee. The result was a compelling motion picture that some have suggested served as one of the earliest influences of film noir, that distinctive style of storytelling which pushed the boundaries aesthetically of what was possible when recounting tales somewhat darker and more desperate than what had become the studio norm for so long.
As can happen with critically acclaimed foreign productions, Hollywood took notice. After securing the U.S. rights to the domestic release of Pépé, film producer Walter Wanger effectively shelved the feature (until 1941) so that he could fast-track his very own interpretation of the La Barthe novel. Wanger hired director John Cromwell – who had an already impressive track record at the time which included 1934’s Of Human Bondage, 1936’s Little Lord Fauntleroy, and 1937’s The Prisoner Of Zenda to his name – and then brought in screenwriter John Howard Lawson and successful novelist James M. Cain to pen the shooting script. Actor Charles Boyer – a popular face whose star was on-the-rise – was cast in the central role as Pépé le Moko; and the glamorous starlet of Hedy Lamarr was cast Gaby, le Moko’s love interest and his inevitable ‘fatal attraction.’
The result? 1938’s Algiers was born, and it became a modest sensation all of its own.
Relying once more on the data from the film’s Wikipedia.org entry, Algiers became a box office sensation largely on Lamarr’s presence. In fact, the film is credited as her American screen debut, making it reasonable to suspect that her work in 1933’s German-language Ecstasy – where the screen siren appeared fully nude – buoyed the audience’s curiosity to the point wherein they couldn’t refuse purchasing tickets. Boyer, too, benefitted greatly from his participation in the picture, earning a 1939 Academy Awards nomination – his second – in the category of ‘Best Actor In A Leading Role.’ The picture earned three other nods – a ‘Best Actor In A Supporting Role’ nomination for Gene Lockhart along with citations for ‘Best Art Direction’ and ‘Best Cinematography’ – and yet at the end of the evening no one involved took home any gold statues. That honor was ultimately secured by the French original which, in 1941, finally played on U.S. screens with Wanger’s blessing and secured the title of ‘Best Foreign Film’ for the U.S.’s National Board Of Review.
What a tangled web we weave … not all that dissimilar from the short, troubled, and tragic life of Pépé le Moko himself.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A wanted jewel thief ensconced in the Casbah meets a beautiful woman who makes him long for an escape.”
As I’ve often said, “I just prefer watching older films.”
In short, there’s something to be said for seeing some innovative filmmaking the first time it was done as opposed to watching what exists as entertainment today. While computer technology continues to push storytelling in bold, new directions, auteurs of these bygone eras had to work simply with what they had. More often than not, this amounted to little more than a camera, some dollies, and clever staging; and, yet, a few good men and women somehow managed to keep breathing life into their various stories with far less gadgets and widgets for a few decades. While not the first film to incorporate special effects, 1977’s Star Wars still deserves the lion’s share of the credit for changing the way pictures were both conceived and executed; before those days, producers were probably better equipped to plumb the depths of the human soul in ways with vastly less trickery.
The reason I bring this up regarding a somewhat obscure late 1930’s Crime/Drama is that Wanger and director Cromwell infused the le Moko story with a great degree of cinematic atmosphere in order to capture the far-off feel of Algiers as well as its seminal city of Casbah. While director George Lucas similarly catapulted audiences to the distant peaceful planet of Naboo by utilizing shooting locations in Spain and Italy – cleverly augmenting them with computer-generated wizardry and physical production builds – Cromwell relied on the simpler techniques of rear projection (of actual locations from Algiers), matte paintings, and miniatures. Even though there’s nearly a century between the production of these respective projects, no less attention-to-detail was required to bring the world to life; and I’d honestly argue Algiers deserves to be scene for that reason alone. It’s about as effective as anything else I’ve seen produced in the 1930’s, and it’s really quite impressive technically.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A wanted jewel thief ensconced in the Casbah meets a beautiful woman who makes him long for an escape.”
As I’ve often said, “I just prefer watching older films.”
In short, there’s something to be said for seeing some innovative filmmaking the first time it was done as opposed to watching what exists as entertainment today. While computer technology continues to push storytelling in bold, new directions, auteurs of these bygone eras had to work simply with what they had. More often than not, this amounted to little more than a camera, some dollies, and clever staging; and, yet, a few good men and women somehow managed to keep breathing life into their various stories with far less gadgets and widgets for a few decades. While not the first film to incorporate special effects, 1977’s Star Wars still deserves the lion’s share of the credit for changing the way pictures were both conceived and executed; before those days, producers were probably better equipped to plumb the depths of the human soul in ways with vastly less trickery.
The reason I bring this up regarding a somewhat obscure late 1930’s Crime/Drama is that Wanger and director Cromwell infused the le Moko story with a great degree of cinematic atmosphere in order to capture the far-off feel of Algiers as well as its seminal city of Casbah. While director George Lucas similarly catapulted audiences to the distant peaceful planet of Naboo by utilizing shooting locations in Spain and Italy – cleverly augmenting them with computer-generated wizardry and physical production builds – Cromwell relied on the simpler techniques of rear projection (of actual locations from Algiers), matte paintings, and miniatures. Even though there’s nearly a century between the production of these respective projects, no less attention-to-detail was required to bring the world to life; and I’d honestly argue Algiers deserves to be scene for that reason alone. It’s about as effective as anything else I’ve seen produced in the 1930’s, and it’s really quite impressive technically.
Veteran thief Pépé le Moko (played by Boyer) has taken up residence deep within the walls of the Casbah, a district within the city of Algiers which serves as home to the desperate, the downtrodden, and the morally despicable. It’s grown so dangerous a place that the local police even refuse to patrol its streets out of fear for their own lives, leaving it the province of a single officer – Inspector Slimane (Joseph Calleia). Rather than enforce the law, Slimane exercises the approach of allowing the criminal activity to exist while ingratiating himself as a kind of confidante to the lowlifes, secretly hoping for a time wherein he can lure them out of the lawless corridors into safer quarters. Then – and only then – would he think to make an arrest: to consider otherwise would arguably mean certain suicide.
Reigning over the Casbah, le Moko maintains a courteous stranglehold over all activity. Much like American Prohibition’s Al Capone was perceived as a ‘man of the people’ by most Chicagoans and thus allowed to grow a criminal empire, le Moko shakes hands and maneuvers politically amongst those who live within such shared isolation. He’s incredibly popular. He’s wonderfully resourceful. An approving smile or nod from him grants the recipient the kind of currency that can make or break lives; and everyone in the Casbah knows it all too well.
The catalyst which upsets le Moko’s complacency is the arrival of Gaby (Lamarr), a debutante from France who is vacationing in Algeria with her wealthy (and much older) fiancé Andre Giraux (Robert Greig). Immediately smitten with the woman, Pepe is equally enthralled with the pearls and diamonds she dares to flaunt on her person while walking about the wicked enclave, a choice that perhaps suggests to him psychologically she’s a kind of cultural equal or – at the very least – one not all that threatened by the presence of thieves. Naturally, this sets the couple of as the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ of Algiers, suggesting their happy union is as inevitable as will be their tragic ending. But as the Everly Brothers first sang back in 1960: “Love hurts.”
There’s a great deal of action and distraction to the general flow of Algiers’ plot, a structure that in some ways matches the labyrinthian layout of the famed city district. Le Moko is given a gang of regulars, and some screen time is naturally occupied with establishing both their bona fides as well as some modestly shifting these allegiances about in order to give the film the requisite melodrama. The criminal kingpin finds himself at odds with one or another of his mates over different reasons, not the least of which is the man’s growing unwillingness to steal Gaby’s jewels despite the promise to do so. There’s even a love triangle instilled once Le Moko’s resident gal pal – Ines (Sigrid Gurie) – realizes that she’s ‘on the outs’ and being replaced by – gasp! – an outsider. Some of it has been so done before that we’re still seeing it play out up in the lights today; but it helps knowing that this is little more than the usual backdrop around which stories of people in conflict have been assembled since time began. Fundamentally, Algiers is no different.
Reigning over the Casbah, le Moko maintains a courteous stranglehold over all activity. Much like American Prohibition’s Al Capone was perceived as a ‘man of the people’ by most Chicagoans and thus allowed to grow a criminal empire, le Moko shakes hands and maneuvers politically amongst those who live within such shared isolation. He’s incredibly popular. He’s wonderfully resourceful. An approving smile or nod from him grants the recipient the kind of currency that can make or break lives; and everyone in the Casbah knows it all too well.
The catalyst which upsets le Moko’s complacency is the arrival of Gaby (Lamarr), a debutante from France who is vacationing in Algeria with her wealthy (and much older) fiancé Andre Giraux (Robert Greig). Immediately smitten with the woman, Pepe is equally enthralled with the pearls and diamonds she dares to flaunt on her person while walking about the wicked enclave, a choice that perhaps suggests to him psychologically she’s a kind of cultural equal or – at the very least – one not all that threatened by the presence of thieves. Naturally, this sets the couple of as the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ of Algiers, suggesting their happy union is as inevitable as will be their tragic ending. But as the Everly Brothers first sang back in 1960: “Love hurts.”
There’s a great deal of action and distraction to the general flow of Algiers’ plot, a structure that in some ways matches the labyrinthian layout of the famed city district. Le Moko is given a gang of regulars, and some screen time is naturally occupied with establishing both their bona fides as well as some modestly shifting these allegiances about in order to give the film the requisite melodrama. The criminal kingpin finds himself at odds with one or another of his mates over different reasons, not the least of which is the man’s growing unwillingness to steal Gaby’s jewels despite the promise to do so. There’s even a love triangle instilled once Le Moko’s resident gal pal – Ines (Sigrid Gurie) – realizes that she’s ‘on the outs’ and being replaced by – gasp! – an outsider. Some of it has been so done before that we’re still seeing it play out up in the lights today; but it helps knowing that this is little more than the usual backdrop around which stories of people in conflict have been assembled since time began. Fundamentally, Algiers is no different.
As beautiful as she is, Lamarr is sadly wasted in the role of Gaby chiefly because the part was written so plainly it could’ve been filled by any starlet’s glass slippers. The actress never brings anything fresh or vibrant to the screen here, instead relegated to smiling and batting eyelashes now and again, actions intended to justify Pepe’s carnal fascination with her (as if that were needed). There’s never any hint of range to what she brings to the project. Even her closing scenes – ones which were supposed to show some loss or despondency over what she perceives as love lost – work a bit too similar to expressions of delight or satisfaction earlier in the picture, thus robbing them of any real impact.
Instead, actress Gurie emerges as one to watch here. Audiences get to see as she grows increasingly frustrated with Pepe – her onetime paramour – as he grows more and more enamored with the idea of abandoning not only the Casbah but the entire country in favor of his native France. Her disappointment turns to envy only then to evolve into scorn strong enough to put her lover’s life at risk with the authorities. It’s about as good a performance – or, at least, as convincing – as I think you’ll find from a 1930’s potboiler as ever was. Some might argue that the script merely gave her more to do, but there’s something to be said for her level of efficiency at conveying the mixed emotions, nonetheless.
Additionally, Algiers emerges as a bit of marvel technically. As I mentioned above, Alexander Toluboff received a 1939 Academy Awards nomination for his exceptional production design here, bringing the incessantly winding corridors and sometimes otherworldly flavor of the Casbah to life for audiences. When small details can make or break even the smallest scenes, Toluboff and his team clearly wanted these buildings, alleys, and rooms to breathe beyond the screen. There’s clearly a great degree of deception accomplished with shadows and the like, but what survives looks like a vivid depiction of some distant village in ways too many to count.
Lastly, cinematographer James Wong Howe occasionally elevates his game to a different level when the story requires it. A great deal of the action is rendered with reasonably traditional framing – i.e. Pepe and Gaby’s several sit-downs, the many room sequences with multiple players, etc. – but as our lead’s chaos turns more frantic Howe takes viewers literally on a trip down that winding road. It’s as if he hoisted the camera onto Pepe’s shoulders and took you on a tour through the darkened alleys, allowing you to experience the growing desperation to ‘get out while getting was good’ regardless of the consequences or threat to personal safety. Rarely have I seen this done – much less attempted – in an older picture; and it achieves exactly the same level of frenzy and elation I suspect the central character was feeling. A true union of thought and idea.
Instead, actress Gurie emerges as one to watch here. Audiences get to see as she grows increasingly frustrated with Pepe – her onetime paramour – as he grows more and more enamored with the idea of abandoning not only the Casbah but the entire country in favor of his native France. Her disappointment turns to envy only then to evolve into scorn strong enough to put her lover’s life at risk with the authorities. It’s about as good a performance – or, at least, as convincing – as I think you’ll find from a 1930’s potboiler as ever was. Some might argue that the script merely gave her more to do, but there’s something to be said for her level of efficiency at conveying the mixed emotions, nonetheless.
Additionally, Algiers emerges as a bit of marvel technically. As I mentioned above, Alexander Toluboff received a 1939 Academy Awards nomination for his exceptional production design here, bringing the incessantly winding corridors and sometimes otherworldly flavor of the Casbah to life for audiences. When small details can make or break even the smallest scenes, Toluboff and his team clearly wanted these buildings, alleys, and rooms to breathe beyond the screen. There’s clearly a great degree of deception accomplished with shadows and the like, but what survives looks like a vivid depiction of some distant village in ways too many to count.
Lastly, cinematographer James Wong Howe occasionally elevates his game to a different level when the story requires it. A great deal of the action is rendered with reasonably traditional framing – i.e. Pepe and Gaby’s several sit-downs, the many room sequences with multiple players, etc. – but as our lead’s chaos turns more frantic Howe takes viewers literally on a trip down that winding road. It’s as if he hoisted the camera onto Pepe’s shoulders and took you on a tour through the darkened alleys, allowing you to experience the growing desperation to ‘get out while getting was good’ regardless of the consequences or threat to personal safety. Rarely have I seen this done – much less attempted – in an older picture; and it achieves exactly the same level of frenzy and elation I suspect the central character was feeling. A true union of thought and idea.
Algiers (1938) was produced by Walter Wanger Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? Given that the film fell into public domain in 1966, I’m honestly unaware of any ‘updating’ and/or ‘reformatting’ that may’ve occurred regarding this release; but – even though I’m no video expert – everything looks and sounds pretty good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track from film historians Karen Bible and Roy Windham, and there’s also a collector’s booklet (from Windham) that recounts some of the challenges in transforming the story from script to screen.
Strongly Recommended.
While I’ll admit that I was quite smitten with Algiers (1938), I’m not entirely certain it has the kind of lasting appeal other inspired films from its era retain. Regular readers likely know of my fondness for Citizen Kane (1941), The Maltese Falcon (1941), and Casablanca (1942) – three flicks I can watch over and over and over – and Algiers surprisingly fits nicely on the intellectual shelf next to them. My central problem with revisiting it would be the fact that because I was never seduced with Pepe’s infatuation over Gaby I didn’t buy into his desire to leave and risk it all for her. That aspect of the story seemed manufactured and inauthentic, the product of a storyteller’s imagination and not the result of two people falling in true love. Sure, the gal looked great … but is that all there is? Lamarr – as an actress – just had nothing to offer, so much so I didn’t believe their union was anything more than wishful thinking or a passing fancy. Le Moko would’ve been better off staying holed up with the vastly more interesting Ines. She looked as good, and – undoubtedly – she would’ve required less maintenance.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters – via Allied Vaughn – provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of Algiers (1938) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Strongly Recommended.
While I’ll admit that I was quite smitten with Algiers (1938), I’m not entirely certain it has the kind of lasting appeal other inspired films from its era retain. Regular readers likely know of my fondness for Citizen Kane (1941), The Maltese Falcon (1941), and Casablanca (1942) – three flicks I can watch over and over and over – and Algiers surprisingly fits nicely on the intellectual shelf next to them. My central problem with revisiting it would be the fact that because I was never seduced with Pepe’s infatuation over Gaby I didn’t buy into his desire to leave and risk it all for her. That aspect of the story seemed manufactured and inauthentic, the product of a storyteller’s imagination and not the result of two people falling in true love. Sure, the gal looked great … but is that all there is? Lamarr – as an actress – just had nothing to offer, so much so I didn’t believe their union was anything more than wishful thinking or a passing fancy. Le Moko would’ve been better off staying holed up with the vastly more interesting Ines. She looked as good, and – undoubtedly – she would’ve required less maintenance.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters – via Allied Vaughn – provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of Algiers (1938) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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