Commentary

In the Golden Era of Hollywood (1934-1954), filmmakers learned to make difficult topics into films which were acceptable for all audiences. Under the guidance of the Production Code Administration (PCA), obscene plays and books were made into mature but tasteful films such as “These Three” (1936) and “Casablanca” (1943). Every once in a while, despite the PCA office’s best attempts, a film would slip through which was technically acceptable but still had a disturbing trace left from its dark source material. I found such a film in 1953’s “Lili.”

This film stars ballerina Leslie Caron as lonely, young, and innocent Lili Daurier and Mel Ferrer as her brooding, sinister leading man. Upon first viewing this film, I was struck by the unsettled feeling with which it left me, as if there were a dark undercurrent beneath its seemingly cheerful surface. My curiosity piqued, I did some background research and uncovered the disturbing source material: author Paul Gallico’s two warped puppet fantasies, “The Man Who Hated People” and “The Love of Seven Dolls.”

The Story

Sixteen-year-old French orphan Lili Daurier (Caron) arrives in a provincial town seeking work at a bakery, only to learn that the baker has died. A shopkeeper lures her in with the offer of a job but then tries to take advantage of her. She is rescued by a charming carnival magician, Marc (Jean-Pierre Aumont), who is in town shopping with two fellow carnival performers, puppeteers Paul Berthalet (Ferrer) and Jacquot (Kurt Kasznar).

Enamored by the magician, Lili follows them back to the carnival, where Marc gets her a job as a waitress. When she is fired the first evening, she contemplates suicide but is stopped by Berthalet’s quartet of puppets. She loves them instantly, not seeming to realize the brooding Berthalet, whom she had previously dubbed “the angry man,” is the one behind them. When a crowd gathers, charmed by Lili’s natural interaction with the puppets, Berthalet senses a potential goldmine and hires her to be a regular part of the show.

Jacquot tells her that Berthalet is a former ballet dancer whose career was cut short by a leg injury from the war. Frustration over his lost career and shame from his limp have driven him to hide behind a puppeteer’s curtain and made him into the embittered drunk Lili now sees. Although she is touched by this story, she is still frightened of Berthalet, who does little to ease her fears by remaining cold and distant. Little does she know that he is secretly in love with her, but is unable to express his feelings except through the puppets.

A Svengali Tale

What could be so disturbing about this little puppet tale? Classic literature is full of stories like “The Phantom of the Opera” which feature a deformed man who cannot express his love for the leading lady outright. In most stories of this kind, he doesn’t end up with her. I think there’s a very good reason why.

Let’s delve a little deeper into the film’s plot. Here we have a man who is undeniably unkind and controlling. While refusing to show Lili any affection, he controls and manipulates her feelings through his puppets, playing on her innocent belief in them. When she decides to leave him, he tries to draw her in again this way. With sudden realization, she pulls back the curtain between them. He tells her that he is the puppets, with each one representing a facet of his spirit. She is unmoved, as the spell is finally broken. However, after she has left, she daydreams that life-sized version of the puppets dance with her. One by one, she leaps into their arms, and they turn into Berthalet before vanishing. She runs back to the carnival and into Berthalet’s arms. They kiss as the film ends. This is a classic Hollywood ending, but an unsatisfying one when tacked onto this film.

I am not one to fuss about age differences, as I think the issue is greatly exaggerated in modern culture. However, Lili is only 16, while Berthalet is at least 30. Can we really say there is love between them? He has only succeeded in manipulating her emotions to the point that she believes she loves him. Any film whose leading lady is almost taken advantage of and contemplates suicide within the first 20 minutes can hardly be considered a fun musical comedy. Bronislau Kaper’s score, while lighthearted at times, also has moments of intense drama. The music which plays as Lili runs back toward the carnival at the end made me certain she would find him dead by suicide or some similarly dark ending. In addition, the encounter with the shopkeeper at the beginning casts an unshakeable shadow of doubt over all the male characters. I had the impression throughout the film that all the men were ultimately out to take advantage of Lili and couldn’t be trusted.

Trouble at the Source

Author Paul Gallico’s short story “The Man Who Hated People” was published in the Oct. 28, 1950, issue of The Saturday Evening Post. New York City girl Milly is the main performer on the popular “Peter and Panda” TV show, in which she performs unscripted alongside six puppets. The puppeteer behind the show is Crake Villeridge, a former hockey player whose career was cut short when two players skated over his face, disfiguring him. While enchanting her with his puppets, he makes Milly’s life miserable by constantly berating and humiliating her in front of the crew. After meeting a kind man, Milly decides to marry him and leave the show. As she crosses the empty stage one last time, she finds the puppets waiting for her; they beg her to take them along. The wisest puppet tells her they’re all a part of Crake, and shame has forced him to hide behind them. Milly calls to Crake and embraces him, deciding to leave the real world forever and live in his “Never-Never Land of mind.”

Gallico’s expansion of this story, the novella “The Love of Seven Dolls,” was not published until 1954, a year after “Lili” was released. Its review in The New York Times began: “Those audiences still making their way to see ‘Lili’ may now read the book from which this motion picture was adapted.” While there is some debate as to whether the film or novella came first, this quote implies that Gallico was working in conjunction with the Hollywood writers, providing them with source material from his yet-unpublished novella.

It tells the story of French waif Mouche, who came to Paris to become an actress but wound up a stripper. However, when she is fired for failing to impress male customers with her plain appearance, she plans to commit suicide. She is stopped by seven puppets in a carnival booth. The puppeteer is Michel Peyrot, an evil man who grew up on the streets with no affection of any kind and “would, if he could, have corrupted the whole world.” He gives Mouche a job but is continuously tortured by her innocence, even as she makes his show wildly successful. Since he finds her purity an affront to his own black heart, he begins regularly abusing and taking advantage of her. To his frustration, she remains perpetually innocent through it all. When they at last make it to the big time and are performing in a theater, Mouche meets young acrobat Balotte and begins going out with him. After Balotte proposes, she decides to leave the show. As she is leaving the theater that night, she observes the puppets agreeing to set fire to themselves since she’s left. When she begs them not to do it, the wisest puppet tells her the tale of a man split into seven souls, each resting in one of his dolls. Moved, Mouche pulls back the curtain to reveal Peyrot. Convinced that only she can save him from himself, she swears she loves him and will never leave him.

Undercurrents

This dark, explicit novella is a far cry from its screen adaptation. However, I knew there was something more to this movie than meets the eye. When I explored its source material and found the passage when Peyrot first violates Mouche’s innocence, I wasn’t surprised. While Berthalet’s mistreatment of Lili consists only of unkind words and one slap in a moment of anger and jealousy, something of Peyrot remains. This could be due, in part, to the casting of Mel Ferrer in the role. He is most well-known nowadays for his marriage to famous actress Audrey Hepburn, toward whom he was allegedly manipulative, controlling, and even abusive. I believe it after seeing him in this film. Occasionally, you come across a performance which is just too real. In this part, Ferrer seemed to be playing himself, and he brought out an element of the original character which was not in the screenplay. It was supposedly after seeing him in this film that Hepburn first developed a crush on the older, thrice-divorced actor, before she ever met him. There is a definite change in Berthalet when two agents say his present career will take him farther than his previous one in ballet, and he says some sweet, touching words about Lili. However, when face-to-face with her shortly afterwards, he remains cold and angry, so his supposed transformation in the earlier scene feels pointless.

I do wish they hadn’t given it such a stock MGM ending. If they had even included a little dialogue at the end, like in the written stories, it would feel more complete. However, the generic running into his arms and kissing him, with no dialogue at all, is an unsatisfying conclusion to such a complex love story. They chose to show Lili’s realization of her love for him through the dream sequence with live versions of his puppets. This is the only romantic or even affectionate moment they share in the whole film, and having it take place in her imagination only drives further the notion that it’s all a fantasy.

It is my belief that this film was not handled by PCA head Joseph Breen, since any film which he worked on personally would likely have gone just a bit further in the self-regulation process. However, while the undertones are there, they still remain undertones. One can only imagine what this film would be like without the PCA’s guidance. Every unsavory detail of the novella would be splashed across the screen in lurid detail. Instead, we have an artistic musical piece which, while it may have some troubling details in the plot, remains a fun Code musical for most of its runtime. It also is the only version of the story which includes a redemptive arc for the puppeteer.