"Martin Roumagnac" Throwback Review

 

by Daniel White

There is a scene in Martin Roumagnac (1946) where Blanche Ferrand (Marlene Dietrich) becomes hysterical, frustrated at the hypocrisy she has encountered living in a provincial French town. Trapped and desperate to escape, she opens all the birdcages in the shop she works in, freeing all the birds. It's a mad, exhilarating moment that elevates the movie to near greatness.

Unfortunately, it's about the only time this plodding, talky flick gets there. Too bad, because all the ingredients are on hand to create a sumptuous souffle. Unfortunately there is no master chef available to stir the pot.

Appearing in her first European film in over 15 years with her then lover Jean Gabin (who plays the title character), must have seemed like a surefire win to La Dietrich. She had performed tirelessly for the Allies during the war, covering thousands of miles, selling war bonds, and devoting herself to helping her adopted country, the United States, triumph. What better way to show her solidarity with the victors than to make a film in France, a country that had suffered much under German occupation.

On paper, Martin Roumagnac sounds right: a bored, sophisticated temptress takes up with a common, uncouth building contractor, resulting in disaster for both. But in traveling from paper to moving picture, somebody forgot to provide the steam for the trip. And this potential firecracker ends up being a run of the mill pot boiler.

Which is too bad, for Dietrich and Gabin are an attractive couple and complement each other nicely. Glammed-up Marlene and rough-around-the-edges Jean were born to spark on the silver screen. And there are a couple of scenes where those sparks begin to sizzle up and flame. One is set in an isolated barn in the country, another in a hotel room in Paris. But practically everything else that happens is as dull and lifeless as the dirt beneath bricklayer Gabin's fingernails. The film was not a commercial or critical success, and Dietrich and Gabin's relationship ended soon after it was released. Which is too bad, for if any cinematic couple deserved a second shot at shining on celluloid, it was these two.

Competently directed by George Lacombe (who also had a hand in the uninspired screenplay), the film does contain a robust musical score by Marcel Mirouze and Giovanni Fusco. But a handful of stirring trumpets are not enough to rouse this tired tale.

With Margo Lion as Roumagnac's worried sister, and Daniel Gelin, as a young school teacher besotted by Miss Dietrich, Martin Roumagnac is available on YouTube.