The Icarus Films April 18, 2023 DVD release of a 4K restoration of the 1946 Marlene Dietrich French film "Martin Roumagnac" (later released as "The Room Upstairs") provides good reminders.
Ala every Icarus release, "Rougmanac" passes the foreign-language test of being a movie that could be made line-for-line and shot-for-shot in the US. The bigger picture (pun intended) is that this one reminds that they don't make 'em like that anymore.
The pristine audio and video of this must-own restoration truly highlights the use of black-and-white and the Oscar-worthy deliveries of the Oscar-worthy dialogue.
One of the most fascinating aspects of this film is that is adheres to the US Hays Code despite being made more than 5,000 miles from Hollywood in a country that is known for its risque movies (and postcards). There is no question that the lady is a tramp. However, merry widow Blanche Ferrand (Dietrich) keeps her clothes on and is never actually seen in bed with any of the "strangers" on whose kindness she has always relied ala a more infamous Blanche of novel, stage, and screen.
Additionally, writer/director Georges Lacombe ensures that the bad actors in misdeeds only get aptly schooled. This is particularly true regarding our titular contractor who pays a heavy price for falling under the spell of Blanche.
Our story begins with shades of "Beauty and the Beast." It is an ordinary day in the sleepy French village where Blanche and her uncle own a bird shop.
Our father figure playfully teases a young boy who is delivering eclairs while Blanche is finishing up a nooner with the married deputy mayor. This soon is followed by a local educator stopping by to symbolically purchase only one of a pair of lovebirds. Blanche equally symbolically informs him that separating the bonded pair would be fatally cruel.
The plot thickens when Blanche meets Martin at a fight that evening. The symbolism this time includes a not-so-lucky four-leaf clover and a subsequent "Cinderella" style search by Martin for his "princess."
The Hays Codes fully exerts itself when seeking shelter in a barn during a first date leads to a scene of the barn door slamming after the horses symbolically have left their stable relationships. This leads to Martin building a luxurious villa for the cow who is providing milk. An early lesson for this working-class hero is that essentially putting a ring on it leads to the cow running dry.
The mid-point of the film also is when the oft-mentioned but previously unseen "counsel" enters the picture. This once only partially available suitor is free now that his wife has bought the farm.
This presents our pet-shop girl with having to choose between building a life with the one who is almost out of love but is telling her that he loves her in so many ways and a partner-in-crime who has the brains to her looks and offers opportunities to make lots of money. She also has the option of choosing door number three.
This conflict results in a confrontation that continues the homage that "Rougmanac" pays to "Citizen Kane." Passions run hot and mistakes are made.
This leads to an exciting trial that indicates that the French judicial system is much more informal than its US counterpart. The outcome supports that theory that justice is not blind, it just looks the other way. We do learn that Martin did love Eva Braun, who was just some girl who was on the make.
The epilogue involves the final lesson of the day. This message is that it ain't over until the "fat lady" gets her justice.
The overall big picture is that "Rougmanac" is a perfect example of post-war European cinema in which everyone is exhausted, cynical, and looking for love in all the wrong places. The awesome timeless social commentary in the form of looking down on gypsies, tramps, and thieves is the icing on the cake.
