Liliom is the non-musical version of the later and much more famous "Carousel" by Fox in the 1950s. The stories are basically the same. A peasant girl, Julie (Rose Hobart), is in love with Liliom (Charles Farrell), barker at carousel. Liliom is a womanizer, a man who takes money from women and then dumps them, and he is seemingly the "kept" man of Mme. Muscat (Estelle Taylor) who puts up with all of this as long as she has possession of Liliom as much as anybody could.
They take just one walk together and apparently get married. Liliom loses his job at the carousel because of taking up with Julie, and just sleeps all day while Julie waits on him hand and foot. She never reproaches him, but his aunt does plenty, as she sees him as just a loafer. I can't say that there is anything wrong with her vision.
When Liliom finds out Julie is pregnant he decides to take up his low-life friend's (Lee Tracy's) plan to rob the paymaster of a nearby factory. But this easy job turns nasty when the paymaster has a gun and fights back. Instead of being captured by the police and getting ten years in prison, Liliom chooses to kill himself and plunges a knife into his heart.
Now the "after death" scenes with Liliom and the magistrate of death are the best scenes in the film. Played with great aplomb by H.B. Warner, it is probably the best role he had in talking film. Liliom wants a chance to return to earth to do a good deed for his wife and child. H.B Warner - and myself for that matter - wonder why he didn't do that good deed when he was alive. Actually Liliom fascinates the magistrate, and he allows him to go back to earth ONLY after he completes ten years in hell. Funny how that sentence is the same length as the prison sentence he would have had if he had just given up to the police during the robbery, but at least he would still be alive.
The ending is quite unsatisfactory, with some nonsense about how some people can beat you and beat you and it not hurt a bit. Julie's words, and she is STILL turning down the steady and kind carpenter after all of these years. Buried in this film somewhere is a moral about blind deep love for someone who may be no good versus picking a mate like you are picking out a pair of sensible shoes - those shoes would be the carpenter.
Charles Farrell is really miscast as Liliom. His voice is just too high for me to take him seriously as the lazy womanizing ruffian. He was one of the many casualties of talking film, as Fox tried to make use of their contract players from the silent era, and some of them worked out and others did not.
Now some good words. The art design is amazing. The train that picks up the dead, the train to hell, the passengers on the train of the dead with the upper class dead complaining about having to mingle with the working class like they are still alive and have their money is all fabulous. So is the score, which is unusual for a 1930 film. The film industry overreacted for a couple of years to the anti musical backlash of audiences and completely removed scores from their films, but this one remains intact. Lee Tracy as the wise cracking petty thief is really good here. You can see glimmers of the greatness that is to come over at Warner Brothers.
I'd mildly recommend this film, because it is odd to see director Frank Borzage make a misfire, but this is one of them. Borzage liked to make films about relationships, about how some relationships are only seen in their true form by the people that are actually in them - Liliom tells the magistrate he really did love Julie. But this final business about beatings being OK is just bizarre.
They take just one walk together and apparently get married. Liliom loses his job at the carousel because of taking up with Julie, and just sleeps all day while Julie waits on him hand and foot. She never reproaches him, but his aunt does plenty, as she sees him as just a loafer. I can't say that there is anything wrong with her vision.
When Liliom finds out Julie is pregnant he decides to take up his low-life friend's (Lee Tracy's) plan to rob the paymaster of a nearby factory. But this easy job turns nasty when the paymaster has a gun and fights back. Instead of being captured by the police and getting ten years in prison, Liliom chooses to kill himself and plunges a knife into his heart.
Now the "after death" scenes with Liliom and the magistrate of death are the best scenes in the film. Played with great aplomb by H.B. Warner, it is probably the best role he had in talking film. Liliom wants a chance to return to earth to do a good deed for his wife and child. H.B Warner - and myself for that matter - wonder why he didn't do that good deed when he was alive. Actually Liliom fascinates the magistrate, and he allows him to go back to earth ONLY after he completes ten years in hell. Funny how that sentence is the same length as the prison sentence he would have had if he had just given up to the police during the robbery, but at least he would still be alive.
The ending is quite unsatisfactory, with some nonsense about how some people can beat you and beat you and it not hurt a bit. Julie's words, and she is STILL turning down the steady and kind carpenter after all of these years. Buried in this film somewhere is a moral about blind deep love for someone who may be no good versus picking a mate like you are picking out a pair of sensible shoes - those shoes would be the carpenter.
Charles Farrell is really miscast as Liliom. His voice is just too high for me to take him seriously as the lazy womanizing ruffian. He was one of the many casualties of talking film, as Fox tried to make use of their contract players from the silent era, and some of them worked out and others did not.
Now some good words. The art design is amazing. The train that picks up the dead, the train to hell, the passengers on the train of the dead with the upper class dead complaining about having to mingle with the working class like they are still alive and have their money is all fabulous. So is the score, which is unusual for a 1930 film. The film industry overreacted for a couple of years to the anti musical backlash of audiences and completely removed scores from their films, but this one remains intact. Lee Tracy as the wise cracking petty thief is really good here. You can see glimmers of the greatness that is to come over at Warner Brothers.
I'd mildly recommend this film, because it is odd to see director Frank Borzage make a misfire, but this is one of them. Borzage liked to make films about relationships, about how some relationships are only seen in their true form by the people that are actually in them - Liliom tells the magistrate he really did love Julie. But this final business about beatings being OK is just bizarre.