Austria Made in Hollywood by Jacqueline Vansant

Abstract

Reviews 248 waxeslyricalabouttheAmericancharacter,hissweepingjudgementsrevealtheir own fragility, for example when he translates ‘common sense’ as ‘Gemeinsinn’ rather than, as would be the idiomatic equivalent, ‘gesunder Menschenverstand’ (p. 56). His reviewers struggle with his posturing; they praise his intelligence and unfailing energy, but suspect that he has not yet fulfilled the promise they detect in his writings. Among the obituaries, ten in total, are texts by Rudolf Kayser, Franz Blei and Robert Musil. Most of them emphasize Müller’s vitality, his directness (associated often with a new American-European type), his impatience, lack of ‘Weltanschauung’ and corresponding activism without apparent purpose; yet the most frequently used label is ‘Widerspruch’ (pp. 204 and 213), with the ‘Zerrissenheit seiner Seele’ evidence for the ‘Verhängnis, daß unsere Zeit gerade ihre Besten und Ehrlichsten so verwirrt, daß sie nicht mehr weiter können’ (pp. 199–200). Müller’s literary and essayistic output, his life and the (apparent) mode of his end are thus viewed as symptomatic of the confusion of his times, and this contemporary assessment still retains currency today. Müller continues to intrigue as a child of his time, an epitome of contradiction. The explicit aim of the volume under review is to provide a more complete basis for future research, and this is quite clearly achieved. By filling some biographical gaps and bringing the unsolved questions regarding Müller’s life into sharp relief, the biographical essay that opens the volume provides a summary of its scope. A second goal is to attempt a provisional evaluation of the current state of Müller research; a literature survey of the Müller scholarship of recent decades plus bibliographies of primary and secondary writings will be welcomed by colleagues. The volume might not restore Müller to the premier ranks of the Viennese klassische Moderne, but it contributes additional facets to the literary landscape of the Austrian capital during the second and third decades of the twentieth century when the cultural scene was probably as diverse, contradictory, rich, weird, productive and asynchronous as never before and never again. To that, Robert Müller’s output and turbulent life are eloquent testimony. Florian Krobb Maynooth and Stellenbosch Universities Austria Made in Hollywood. By Jacqueline Vansant. Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2019. 208 pp. £75. 978–1-57113–945–0. Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, cinema, and especially the ‘dream factory’ of Hollywood, has played an unrivalled role in shaping perceptions of nations, including Austria. The film that has done most for the country’s image abroad is undoubtedly The Sound of Music, with which Vansant’s study opens and concludes. Yet, as Austria Made in Hollywood illustrates, there are numerous films — many of which have fallen into obscurity — that are similarly worthy of our attention, revealing how images of Austria have been refracted on the Hollywood screen at different points in history. Reviews 249 The study’s five chapters proceed broadly chronologically, covering five decades of Hollywood depictions of Austria from the 1920s to the 1960s. There is a notable omission of Carol Reed’s The Third Man (1949), which Vansant leaves out ‘because the American input and context had minimum impact on the [...] decidedly British final product’ (p. 19). This downplaying of the US influence on the British–US co-production is debatable, as the two main protagonists of the film are Americans (in contrast to Graham Greene’s original novella where they are British). Scholars such as Anne-Marie Scholz in From Fidelity to History (New York: Berghahn, 2013), have firmly grounded the film in contemporary American popular culture. Nevertheless, the delimited focus on films about Austria exclusively made in the United States during Hollywood’s golden age allows Vansant to fill a significant gap in scholarship. The first chapter examines two films, Merry-Go-Round (1923) and The Wedding March (1928), by Viennese-born director and actor Erich von Stroheim. Vansant explores how Stroheim’s depiction of a decadent upper class in Habsburg Austria is a commentary on the Prohibition era, with images showing practices such as the consumption of alcohol and prostitution, although set in an exotic location, confronting American viewers with ‘behaviour not necessarily foreign’ (p. 28...