"Her Majesty Love" (1931): A Wobbly But Charming Early Talkie Romance

"Her Majesty Love" from 1931… listen, if you're even thinking about diving into this one, you already know what you're in for. This isn't for your average Saturday night popcorn crowd. If you love digging into early talkies, especially those pre-Code romances with a touch of European flair and some really dramatic acting, then yeah, give it a shot. You'll find a charming, if sometimes wobbly, little picture here. But if silent film acting styles or musicals that feel a bit like stage plays make you itch, then honestly, just skip it. You'll be bored stiff, probably.

The story itself is classic melodrama, really. Fred, this big-shot industrialist, falls head-over-heels for Lia, who pours drinks in a lively Berlin cabaret. His family, of course, absolutely loses their minds. They're all about appearances and who you marry, you know? They practically bribe him to ditch her, and for a minute, he actually does. But love, or something like it, pulls him back. Only problem is, Lia's already found out about his little agreement and moved on. It’s pretty straight forward, but it gets the job done.

What sticks with me is the energy of those cabaret scenes. They feel genuinely alive, even through the old film grain. Käthe von Nagy as Lia just lights up the screen there. She’s got this sparkle, this sass, that makes you understand why Fred would throw everything away for her. You see her singing, and she's not just pretty; she's got this defiant air about her, like she knows exactly who she is, even if she's just a bartender. ✨

Then you cut to the Wellingen family estate, and it's like a different movie entirely. Everything is so stiff. Adele Sandrock, playing one of the older family members, is just fantastic in her disapproval. Every wrinkle on her face seems to scream "How dare he?" Her eyebrows alone could win an Oscar. 😂 There’s this one dinner scene where they’re all sitting around, trying to convince Fred to do the "right thing," and the silence between their pronouncements is just thick. You can almost feel the movie trying to convince you this moment matters.

Francis Lederer as Fred… he’s got a tough job. He has to be torn, but also a bit of a weakling. When he's trying to win Lia back, there’s a moment where he looks truly lost, almost bewildered by the mess he’s made. It’s not a grand, sweeping gesture, but a small, defeated slump of his shoulders. That little detail really got me.

The musical numbers are a mixed bag, to be fair. Some are genuinely catchy, making you tap your foot a bit, while others feel a little tacked on. There's a particular song early on where the camera just locks onto the singer, and it goes on about 20 seconds too long. You just sit there, wondering if the director forgot to yell "cut." It's charming in its awkwardness, though. It’s a snapshot of how they were figuring things out, sound-wise.

And the pacing! Oh, the pacing. Sometimes it zips along, especially in the cabaret. Other times, it just... sits there. You get a lot of lingering shots on people's faces as they process information, which can be lovely, but also a test of patience. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, just different. It forces you to look.

There’s a small, almost throwaway scene with Lia’s father, played by Paul Rehkopf. He’s so unassuming, but he carries this quiet dignity. When he realizes what Fred’s family has done, his disappointment isn't loud; it's just this heavy sadness in his eyes. It makes you feel for him more than some of the bigger, flashier arguments.

The ending isn't a huge surprise, if you know your melodramas. But the way it plays out, with Lia making her choice… it feels earned. Not overly dramatic, just a quiet firmness. The film doesn't try to wrap everything up in a neat bow. It leaves a little air in the room, which I actually appreciated. It lets you think about what she really wants, not just what everyone else expects.

It’s a curious piece of cinema, this one. A bit of a time capsule. You see the rough edges of early sound, the stagey acting that hadn't quite adapted to the camera yet, but also these flashes of genuine emotion and storytelling. It’s not perfect, but it’s got a heart to it. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.