of Brecht's The Threepenny Opera (Dreigroschenoper) for the famed Austrian film director, Georg Wilhelm Pabst, and collaborated with the left-wing theater director, Erwin Piscator, on his “political theater.” Lania remembers the part of Helene in The Trunks going to a “young girl just out of dramatic school. She was inexperienced, shy and very pretty. Her name was Hedy Kiesler.”18 Granowsky shot his film between 15 September and 17 October 1931 and it premiered in Berlin on 2 December 1931.
Once again, Hedy was acting in a comedy, this time as the pretty young daughter of the mayor of Ostend (Alfred Abel). Another of the film's rising stars was Peter Lorre. The film is subtitled A Fairytale for Grown-Ups and the story starts with the unexpected appearance at a modest hotel of thirteen suitcases bearing the initials O. F. The town's motto is apparently “Better two steps back than one step forward.” A small-time local journalist named Mr. Stix, played by Lorre, starts a rumor that the cases belong to the millionaire Mr. Flott, and that he has come to invest in Ostend. In anticipation of Mr. Flott's arrival, the townspeople shake off their apathy and set about modernizing Ostend. Mr. O. F. does not arrive, and Ostend continues to develop until it becomes a metropolis. Only then is the error revealed. The suitcases were destined for Ostende, not Ostend.
Hedy's part was small, but more significant than her Vienna roles. She is generally seen in long or medium shots with a just a few close-ups of her face, which is still rounded and more charming than classically beautiful. Indeed, her overall demeanor exemplifies the ideal of smalltown wholesomeness. She plays a strong character who is well able to scold those who displease her, but whose natural environment is the domestic space. In a sequence near the film's end, her character is explicitly contrasted with that of the imported cabaret singer Viola Volant (Margo Lion). Helen and her mother are waiting for the mayor to return for dinner. A phone call to his office finds him claiming that he has to work late. In fact, a cut to the other side of the room reveals that he is enjoying the company of Viola Volant, who is sitting and smoking a cigarette in a pose that reveals a considerable amount of leg. Hedy/Helene's virtuous domesticity is again emphasized in the next scene where she phones her fiancé, Baumeister Stark (Harald Paulsen), to discover that he too is allegedly working late. Sufficient scolding results in him scurrying round and the twosome are shortly married, thus concluding one of Granowsky's several parodies of bourgeois life.
Critics were divided over the production, in particular its fairy-tale qualities and Granowsky's decision to film in a nonrealist manner (the narrative was interrupted throughout with songs written by Erich Kästner). Some attributed the production's aesthetic to the influence of Rein-hardt's theater, while others saw in the cinematography reminders of the Soviet cinema. Still others questioned the need to spell out the meaning of the satire.19 This prompted the question of The Trunks' political message, which Lania said was intended as a critique of capitalism.20 Given the recent collapse of Germany's industrial base and the country's subsequent revitalization through credit and speculation, capitalism was certainly ripe for satire.
For The Trunks' admirers, Granowsky's production was a breakthrough in an otherwise arid filmmaking environment; it was, Der Film commented, “a commentary on its time,” its strength being its reliance on symbols and images rather than on its realist qualities.21 Less politicized commentators refused to see anything more in this left-wing production than a good-natured comedy about small-town attitudes.
In February 1932, the film was cut by almost half and re-released in April with a new title, Building and Marrying (Bauen und Heiraten). According to the trade press, the filmmakers had heeded their critics and made substantial edits to tighten the structure and plot.22 In fact, the reasons were more sinister. When the film was re-released, it was without opening credits. The credits had listed several Jewish performers along with Erich Kästner's songs, all of which offended the censors. Also stripped was its portrayal of the decadence into which Ostend swiftly slipped. None of the sequences featuring Hedy was excised, which suggests the censors did not know she was Jewish.
Writers on Granowsky tend to dismiss his films, seeing them as little more than cash cows pulling down the end of an illustrious theater career, but The Trunks was a major release. When the film's message was not being debated, critical attention focused on its technical aspects and their contribution to the development of sound film. Its star to be watched was perceptively noted as Peter Lorre (Aribert Mog, later to star with Hedy in Ecstasy, also played a small role). Lorre's performance imbues the film with its sense of decadence; his insinuating, unctuous persona is compelling. What is perhaps most interesting for the purpose of this book, however, is the underlying assumption that Hedy Kiesler was a name familiar to audiences. Only Variety sounded a sour note: after commenting that Granowsky's film was “original in its idea and outstanding for photography” as well as “intentionally intellectual,” the reporter noted that “among the players is the young Viennese actress, Hedi [sic] Kiesler, introduced over here with much propaganda. She does not carry out the advance heralding.”23
Granowksy was inundated with offers of more film work after the release of The Trunks, but he had meanwhile married a wealthy German woman and moved to Paris to found his own company. “His first picture, Le Roi Pausolle[actually Les Aventures du Roi Pausole or The Adventures of King Pausole], a musical revue, was the most expensive picture made in Europe up to that time. And his private life was as sumptuous as his films. The waiters at exclusive Paris bars hadn't seen such tips since the legendary champagne bouts of the Russian grand dukes in Mont-martre.” But, “All the luxury and success did not make Granovsky happy or deaden his longing for Russia. He refused to admit it. The close air of the dictatorship made it impossible for him to work, he said, but in the free atmosphere of Paris and London he could not breathe.”24 His wife left him and he died in 1938, a poor man.
The Trunks opened belatedly in Vienna on 4 June 1932. The critics were delighted; several compared it favorably to We Don't Need Money or Fun and Finance (Man Braucht Kein Geld), Hedy's next film. Indeed, it seemed that appreciating Granowsky's film suggested that Viennese society possessed a more cultured outlook than Berlin: “We have heard that in Berlin it was pretty unanimously dismissed. But we savages are better people and for us Granowsky's grotesqueries were a delightful surprise.”25 Although Hedy remained mostly unheralded, one critic offered that Hedy Kiesler was supposed to look pretty and she did, and another mentioned her as part of the excellent cast.26
Hedy stayed in Berlin to work with producer Arnold Pressburger on his new film We Don't Need Money which was shot quickly in November 1931. A founder of Allianz-Tonfilm, Pressburger hired Carol Boese to direct his latest project. Boese had none of Granovsky's political credentials; the high point of his career was his codirection (with Paul Wegener) of the expressionist classic Der Golem (1920). Otherwise, Boese is best remembered for his routine comedies. Adapted from a play of the same name by Ferdinand Alternkirch, We Don't Need Monejrevisited the themes of wealth accumulation and distribution familiar to audiences of The Trunks. The story centers on the activities of a shopkeeper named Brandt in the small town of Groditzkirchen. When some speculative investments in oil drilling go wrong, he and the local bank official, Schmidt (Heinz Rühmann), devise a plan to save face. Brandt announces that his millionaire uncle from Chicago, Thomas Hoffman (Hans Moser), is due to arrive shortly. But when Hoffman arrives with seven huge suitcases, he has just one $10 gold piece in his pocket. “No one must find out,” Schmidt insists. Schmidt ensures that Hoffman stays at the best hotel in town, but there he keeps the unfortunate visitor a virtual prisoner. With the myth of investment now personified, the bank official and the shopkeeper can obtain limitless credit and the two exploit this nonexistent capital until Brandt becomes wealthy and Groditzkirchen becomes an industrial city of extraordinary influence. The swindle also enables Schmidt to court Brandt's beautiful daughter Kathe, played by Hedy.
In We Don't Need Money, Hedy is again presented as a sweet young woman, without the slightest hint of the glamorous beauty she would project in her Hollywood years. The script required her to perform
