Polenblut: A relic of old-school operetta

Is it worth your time?

If you have a thing for old European operettas and don't mind a film that feels like it’s been stored in an attic for eighty years, then sure, give it a go. It’s definitely not for the impatient viewer who needs constant kinetic energy. If you hate slow-burn social dramas or people singing at each other in formal gardens, you should probably skip this one entirely.

Honestly, watching Polenblut felt like stumbling into a fancy dress party where I didn't know the rules. The whole plot is basically people being very dramatic about money and estates, which feels quaint compared to the high-stakes stuff we watch now. It’s got that stage-play energy that never quite lets you forget you’re watching a movie adaptation.

Anny Ondra is doing a lot of the heavy lifting here. She has this way of looking at the camera that makes you think she knows exactly how silly the situation is. It’s the kind of performance that keeps you watching even when the script gets a bit bogged down in the minutiae of debt and land ownership.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Polenblut (1934) through its definitive frames.

There is a moment in the second act involving a garden party that lasts for what feels like an eternity. It’s not necessarily bad, just... very long. You can practically see the extras getting tired of standing in the background. It made me think of the aimless pacing in Happiness Ahead, though this has a much more rigid, aristocratic structure to it.

Some of the interior sets look like they were built out of cardboard and sheer optimism. I love that, actually. It gives the whole thing a tactile, homemade feel that CGI just ruins in modern flicks.

Odd observations:

• The mustaches in this movie deserve their own billing. They are truly something else.
• There is a scene where someone is pouring wine that goes on for a weirdly long time. I wonder if they just ran out of things to film that day?
• The music swells at the exact moment you expect it to, every single time. It’s comforting in a very predictable way.

It isn't a masterpiece, and it doesn't try to be. It’s just a piece of theater caught on celluloid, capturing a specific moment in time where everyone was very concerned about their neighbor’s wallet. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in The Thrill Chaser, but slowed down to a crawl and dressed in fancy velvet suits.

Is it a bit dusty? Yeah. But it’s got a weird heart to it. 🎩