Salto in die Seligkeit: A charming, dusty relic

If you're looking for a high-octane thriller, keep walking. Salto in die Seligkeit is for people who like their cinema with a bit of dust on the lens and a whole lot of earnest 1930s optimism. If you hate slow-burn character pieces or black-and-white musical numbers that feel like they belong in a different century, you’ll probably find this unbearable.

The whole thing is basically about a guy who can’t catch a break, turns into a retail worker, and suddenly life is sunshine and rainbows. It’s simple, maybe even a little too simple.

There’s this one scene where he’s trying to sell something—I forget what, maybe shoes?—and the way he moves reminds me of the manic energy you see in A Social Celebrity. It’s that desperate kind of performing that’s meant to be funny but feels a little sad when you realize he's just trying to survive.

The department store setting is honestly the best part. It has that weird, cavernous feeling where everyone is acting like they’re in a stage play, even when they’re just folding shirts. The camera just sits there and lets them do their thing.

It’s not as punchy as Swat the Crook, which I watched last month, but it has this weird, persistent charm. The lead actor, Felix Bressart, has a face that tells you everything you need to know about being broke and tired. He doesn't even need to speak.

• The music is… fine. Don't expect to be humming it later.
• The flower girl character is mostly there to look concerned.
• The lighting in the store is oddly moody for a comedy.

Sometimes the movie stops dead for a musical interlude that adds absolutely nothing to the plot. You can tell the filmmakers just really wanted to show off the sets. It’s distracting, but in a way that feels honest. They were proud of their work, even if it slowed the story to a crawl.

It reminded me a bit of the pacing in Oh, Daddy!—you really have to settle into the rhythm of it. Don't check your watch. If you do, the spell breaks immediately. 🤷‍♂️

I wouldn't say it's a masterpiece. It’s just a nice, weird little window into a world where getting a job at a store was the ultimate happy ending. We've all seen this story a thousand times, but there's something about the way they do it here that feels... well, human.