Svengali (1954)

‘The English may not know much, but they know the difference between a singer and a tomcat.’

While living in Paris with two friends, a painter falls in love with an artist’s model who is sitting for a sculptor in the studio upstairs. Romance blooms but then she falls under the spell of a sinister pianist who uses his hypnotic powers to turn her into a great singer…

George du Maurier’s novel ‘Trilby’ first published in serial form in 1894 was such an international hit it was immediately adapted successfully for the stage. The Edison Motion Picture company filmed excerpts of one of these productions, arguably giving the world it’s first two horror films. Multiple silent versions were filmed, although all but one are now lost. This British version from 1954 was the second attempt at a sound adaptation and stacks up rather poorly against the better known 1931 American release with John Barrymore.

Handsome young artist Billie (Terence Morgan) is indulging his artistic visions in Paris, along with fellow Englishmen, Taffy (Paul Rogers) and The Laird (Derek Bond). Amongst their circle of friends is the swarthy musician, Svengali (Donald Wolfit) and violinist Gecko (David Kossoff). One day when the duo are giving an impromptu recital, in the hope of scrounging from the trio, the music draws in Trilby O’Farrell (Hildegard Knef) who is modelling upstairs for sculptor Durian (Hubert Gregg).

‘Talk to the hand…’

It’s love at first sight on all sides as she charms the entire room and becomes not only a friend by also a helpmate, keeping house for the untidy bachelors. It’s not exactly a surprise when Morgan corners her at a raucous house party and proposes marriage but their tete-a-tete does not meet the approval of a jealous Wolfit. Morgan’s mother and clergyman uncle are not in favour of the match and convince Knef, to take a powder. Morgan chases after her but is seriously injured when hit by a carriage in the street. Back to England, his health continues to decline alarmingly, and his friends try to locate Knef to turn him around. Meanwhile, she has taken shelter with Wolfit, who is determined to make her into a concert singer using his strange mental powers.

This is a project with some serious flaws, caused by some of the creative decisions taken behind the scenes. Director Noel Langley was primarily a writer; he worked on ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (1939) among other major Hollywood features, and he has sole credit for the script here. However, he has chosen to attempt an adaptation of the entire novel, and, although this is usually commendable, Du Maurier’s work is not a good fit for this approach. The signature part of the tale; Svengali’s mesmeric influence on Trilby, only appears in the final quarter of the book and so the audience has to wait for the last 25 minutes of the film for it arrive. Before then, we have to put up with the limp romance between Knef and Morgan, and he is so miserable and childish, it’s hard to buy into her feelings for him.

‘Frankly, Trilby, I don’t give a damn.’

And it doesn’t end there. Events in the novel take place over five years, but the film never demonstrates the passage of time. If you are unfamiliar with Du Maurier’s original story, then the results inevitably seem choppy and poorly edited. The film feels hurried as a result, and the audience is left feeling that parts of the story may be missing. The truth is that the connective tissue in the original novel is so inconsequential and dull that it’s understandable why Langley chose not to include any of it. These issues were neatly sidestepped by J Grubb Robertson, who scripted the 1931 version because he decided to focus heavily on the Svengali-Trilby relationship and give far less screen time to the rest of the book.

The other issue is with the casting. If Neff’s presence was a dealbreaker of some kind, then at least some effort could have been made to explain why she is the only Irish girl in Paris with a thick German accent! She was also 29 at the time of filming and is obviously too old for the role of the teenage Trilby. Similarly, the actors playing the trio of English artists are all in their mid-thirties. This would be fine if the parts were rewritten as age-appropriate. But they’re not. As it is, Morgan comes across as hopelessly immature for his age, acting like a sulky teenager while Knef tries to pull off the wide-eyed ingenue without much success. These seemingly odd decisions were quite probably down to the time when the film was made. In pre-code Hollywood, the notion of an intimate relationship between the middle-aged Svengali and a teenage Trilby (Barrymore and co-star Marion Marsh played their own ages in the 1931 film) may have been acceptable, but this was 1950s Britain. Almost certainly, it would have been regarded as utterly inappropriate.

‘I’m sorry to mention it, but I think the two of you may have an alcohol problem…’

Fortunately, Wolfit’s presence as Svengali is eminently watchable. It’s an offbeat mixture of scenery-chewing and genuinely effective moments and injects the picture with some much-needed energy and life. A wildly successful but notoriously difficult and temperamental stage actor, he was often accused of surrounding himself with mediocre actors in his company’s theatrical productions so that his performance would always shine brightest. And there’s a sense of that here, although it’s doubtful he had such control over the casting here.

The presence of the frightfully English supporting cast (no French accents permitted!) does provide an opportunity to do a little star spotting. There are many familiar faces from British cinema and TV; the wonderful Michael Horden in a tiny bit as Morgan’s uncle, David Kossoff as Wolfit’s musical partner, comedian Alfie Bass and future leading man Michael Craig. There’s also a small bit from Harry Secombe, who would shortly form famous radio comedy troupe The Goons with Peter Sellers, Spike Milligan and Michael Bentine. And, hang on, isn’t that TV’s Sherlock Holmes, Jeremy Brett in an unbilled appearance at the student party? Yes, it was his first role, and he does get a couple of lines.

‘Excuse me, but what did you make of the curious incident of the dog in the night-time?’

Knef began acting in German films at the end of the Second World War and was briefly courted by Hollywood, but only came to real prominence due to her nude scene in ‘The Sinner’ (1951) which drew angry protests from the Roman Catholic Church. Subsequently, there was more than one attempt to launch her screen career in America, but her nationality was always a hindrance. However, she enjoyed success on Broadway in ‘Silk Stockings’ and has a later career as a successful singer.

An awkward and clumsy adaptation that does have some good points but can’t possibly hope to overcome some of the poor creative decisions made behind the scenes.