Popular Culture Review Vol. 10, No. 2, August 1999 | Page 69

Jacques Tourneur^s Films 63 Marshall aid) is expressed through the statements given by Bernhardt. In this way, he is an idealized representation: a type rather than a psychologically developed character. He doesn’t offer analyses of Nazism, but instead expresses the (naive) belief in the essential goodness and universality of man, regardless of race. This is what American audiences wanted to hear, and yet because the film’s release was delayed, even these liberal sentiment s were obsolete in American society in 1948. One of the most interesting aspects of the film is the subtle undercutting of American positivism. Ostensibly, there is a privileging of American character and world view, yet this is often undercut by the mise en scene. This is signified by Tourneur’s use of the German locations. The ruins may be the symbols of the death of Nazi ideology, yet they also represent an air of mystery and intrigue, a sign that the old continent can't be taken over by American ideology. The Ameri cans may, to all accounts, control a part of Frankfurt, but they will never be able to truly eradicate the older Frankfurt. Tourneur reminds the viewer of this in the scenes where Lindley and Lucienne (Merle Oberon) search for Bernhardt. It is significant that both get lost in the maze of ruins that dominate the landscape. It is not surpris ing that the “American” sergeant who seems to know his way around actually turns out to be German. Through Tourneur’s melancholic tone and Lucien Ballard’s superb cinematography, an air of crumbling decadence and mystery is evoked, and Frankfurt remains inscrutable. The refusal to yield fiilly to the “invaders” is a theme that is also present in I Walked with a Zombie, and is evidence of Tourneur’s belief in the coexistence of “parallel worlds”. There is a constant feeling that the Germans will never fully cooperate. This is seen in a number of scenes: from the woman who sees Bernhardt on the bus as he arrives in Frankfurt (and rushes to tell the Nazis that he’s not dead) to the woman who faints at the station (thus causing a diversion which allows the kidnappers to abduct Bernhardt). Perhaps the best example is the silent hostility that greets Lindley and Lucienne in the underground nightclub. The hostility isn’t just on the part of the Nazi sympathizers, but is also seen among the general German audience there. I would argue that the film is not implying that all Germans, with the exception of Bernhardt, are still pro-Nazi. Rather it points out the impossibility of imperialist practice, however benevolent that imperialism might be. The Marshall Plan may well have had altruistic mo tives, yet it also signified a kind of imperialistic control. Tourneur’s film seems to suggest that any country’s attempt to impose their laws/ideologies on another’s is bound to be met with resistance, whether it be subtle or overt. In this subtle under cutting of the American positivism represented by Lindley (and Bernhardt) Berlin Express's liberal message is in danger of collapsing from within the film. Is this film the “no” to the “yes” of the Marshall plan? Is the ostensible liberalism actu ally hiding a deeper sense of distrust? One could argue that this ambiguity is conscious: an attempt by the producer and director to capture American society’s