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Fun In a Chinese Laundry
The brilliant director's personal summary of his extremely chaotic ride through the Hollywood machine, including vivid and interesting accounts of the making of his more obscure pictures (e.g., Anathan), his infamous non-involvement with Duel in the Sun,
348 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1965
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
January 2, 2014
"It took more than one man to change my name to Shanghai Lily," says Dietrich in "Shanghai Express," expressing, as Pauline Kael remarked, her most memorable cine line. The villain in the piece, a Chinese revolutionary played by the Swedish-American Warner Oland, monotones, "The white woman stays with me." Another classic line, except to boring PCers. When asked why she's going to Shanghai, Lily-Marlene replies, "To buy a new hat."
The man responsible for all this, and Dietrich herself, was dir Josef von Sternberg, who fused glamour, sin, shamelessness, humor and art in 7 pix he did in the 30s with his Berlin discovery. To critics, his films with and without Marlene provide the greatest cinematic adventures. His stories may be trivial (so what), but he never viewed content as Important (so there). For Sternberg (1894-1969), his works represent visual bravura. His China, Morocco, Russia are artificial, but there's not a scene or shot that doesn't whack an emotional experience. He is a [visual] poet, asserts Andrew Sarris, who creates dreams.
Marlene's career went on for decades as she worked w Lang, Wilder, Hitchcock, but JvS's career came to a dead halt in the early 40s. Born into poverty he grew up in NYC as movies were developing; as an apprentice, he became a master of light & shadow. His "authorship" of a film - unlike that of muddied others - is visible to the blindest eye. He even authored (or invented) himself.
A grand poseur, he added the "von" to his name, liked to wear riding boots on the set, a foulard and beret, and strutted around. The posing is evident in his always-me, always compelling (ghost written) and always bizarre memoir in which he takes credit for : everything . He won't mention a scriptwriter like Jules Furthman (who worked w Hawks,) a master DP like Lee Garmes (who filmed pix for Hawks, Hitch, Ophuls, Vidor), or costume designer Travis Banton (whose trousers, slips, frocks, veils for Marlene added to her Dreaminessy, albeit always asexual presence in all her films : I don't think anyone ever had fancies about bedding her--). The JvS ego crams every page, along with bluster, fibs and, yes, wisdom.
He reminds us that a director must please a horde of viewers in such diverse cities as London, Paris, Karachi and Christchurch. He also perceives that audiences do not improve with Time. "Imagine, Sophocles competing w a performer who rotates his pelvis." As for film actors and acting, he stresses that films are not shot in continuity. Because lighting, camera positions and editing are critical, "a film actor cannot be held responsible for the performance on screen." ~~ As for the script : to obtain financing, you must submit a script, yet "words cannot describe an image , the motion picture has a vocabulary of its own, which does not resemble words on paper."
JvS worked at Paramount, which, in its heyday, was noted for its stylish, worldly films via its connection with UFA. Lubitsch & Billy Wilder and later Sturges were Paramount directors. (Metro preened a gross, luxe Americana). Finding Dietrich, not exactly an ingénue, in Berlin (married w child) JvS transformed her not only into a Star, but also into a Presence, which she was smart enough to keep for the rest of her life. She learned from him all about the importance of camera angles, lighting and costuming. (Years later when working w Hitch, she supervised the same during "Stage Fright." Hitch's crew ran to him in panic at what she was doing. Leave her alone, he said, she knows. He also let her choose her own wardrobe.) Marlene approved of the JvS invention.
JvS does not diss anyone. The most fascinating section deals with the never-finished "I, Claudius" project for Korda in 1937, which is studied in a BBC doc now on YT. From get-go there was a strain between JvS and Laughton, who may not have relished, as shooting began, playing a fat, mincing queen, which he was in real-life (whatever that is). Laughton & JvS had rows, which delayed the shoot; the budget soared. Then Anglo-Indian actress Merle Oberon, the object of Korda's affection (he hired JvS to give her, as Messalina, the Dietrich treatment), suffered facial injuries in a car accident and Korda shut down the film. It was dubbed, "The epic that never was." Meantime, war clouds gathered over Europe...
This memoir is idiosyncratic : tough, humorless, vain and yet, and yet -- you can't stop reading because, like a kind of lit'ry porn, you're waiting for The Money Shot.
The man responsible for all this, and Dietrich herself, was dir Josef von Sternberg, who fused glamour, sin, shamelessness, humor and art in 7 pix he did in the 30s with his Berlin discovery. To critics, his films with and without Marlene provide the greatest cinematic adventures. His stories may be trivial (so what), but he never viewed content as Important (so there). For Sternberg (1894-1969), his works represent visual bravura. His China, Morocco, Russia are artificial, but there's not a scene or shot that doesn't whack an emotional experience. He is a [visual] poet, asserts Andrew Sarris, who creates dreams.
Marlene's career went on for decades as she worked w Lang, Wilder, Hitchcock, but JvS's career came to a dead halt in the early 40s. Born into poverty he grew up in NYC as movies were developing; as an apprentice, he became a master of light & shadow. His "authorship" of a film - unlike that of muddied others - is visible to the blindest eye. He even authored (or invented) himself.
A grand poseur, he added the "von" to his name, liked to wear riding boots on the set, a foulard and beret, and strutted around. The posing is evident in his always-me, always compelling (ghost written) and always bizarre memoir in which he takes credit for : everything . He won't mention a scriptwriter like Jules Furthman (who worked w Hawks,) a master DP like Lee Garmes (who filmed pix for Hawks, Hitch, Ophuls, Vidor), or costume designer Travis Banton (whose trousers, slips, frocks, veils for Marlene added to her Dreaminessy, albeit always asexual presence in all her films : I don't think anyone ever had fancies about bedding her--). The JvS ego crams every page, along with bluster, fibs and, yes, wisdom.
He reminds us that a director must please a horde of viewers in such diverse cities as London, Paris, Karachi and Christchurch. He also perceives that audiences do not improve with Time. "Imagine, Sophocles competing w a performer who rotates his pelvis." As for film actors and acting, he stresses that films are not shot in continuity. Because lighting, camera positions and editing are critical, "a film actor cannot be held responsible for the performance on screen." ~~ As for the script : to obtain financing, you must submit a script, yet "words cannot describe an image , the motion picture has a vocabulary of its own, which does not resemble words on paper."
JvS worked at Paramount, which, in its heyday, was noted for its stylish, worldly films via its connection with UFA. Lubitsch & Billy Wilder and later Sturges were Paramount directors. (Metro preened a gross, luxe Americana). Finding Dietrich, not exactly an ingénue, in Berlin (married w child) JvS transformed her not only into a Star, but also into a Presence, which she was smart enough to keep for the rest of her life. She learned from him all about the importance of camera angles, lighting and costuming. (Years later when working w Hitch, she supervised the same during "Stage Fright." Hitch's crew ran to him in panic at what she was doing. Leave her alone, he said, she knows. He also let her choose her own wardrobe.) Marlene approved of the JvS invention.
JvS does not diss anyone. The most fascinating section deals with the never-finished "I, Claudius" project for Korda in 1937, which is studied in a BBC doc now on YT. From get-go there was a strain between JvS and Laughton, who may not have relished, as shooting began, playing a fat, mincing queen, which he was in real-life (whatever that is). Laughton & JvS had rows, which delayed the shoot; the budget soared. Then Anglo-Indian actress Merle Oberon, the object of Korda's affection (he hired JvS to give her, as Messalina, the Dietrich treatment), suffered facial injuries in a car accident and Korda shut down the film. It was dubbed, "The epic that never was." Meantime, war clouds gathered over Europe...
This memoir is idiosyncratic : tough, humorless, vain and yet, and yet -- you can't stop reading because, like a kind of lit'ry porn, you're waiting for The Money Shot.
March 12, 2021
Josef von Sternberg was an interesting fellow, a mix of an Austro-Hungarian gentleman and a choleric megalomanic. An eccentric, he points out how he always was kind of at odds with the studio system because he was dedicated to the craft of filmmaking - and of course his own ideals. In his autobiography he articulates his theories about movies, actors, directing, studio system in detail. There is a sense of sarcasm all over it which is a delightful read. To him, basically the default mode for a human being in the film industry is an idiot or an asshole with very few exceptions he also singles out.
With some distance Jo's work is pretty impressive to this day especially how he was able to preserve his artistic thrumbprint all through his career. We also get to know his beginnings as an assistant who by accident got to direct his first feature film, which was independently produced (a complete novelty) which got him the attention of Chaplin. Sternberg also has travelled quite a bit and still chose to just minimally research his subject matter to create it all from imagination. And watching Shanghai Express, his detailed fantasies are proof of an educated, open mind.
His portraits of Marlene Dietrich (with whom he had a very complicated personal and artistic relationship oscillating between hate and devotion), and Emil Jannings also are highlights. He singles out how Dietrich always labeled him his creator in the most charming words only to spoil and provoke him and to make herself immune against all attacks.
My picture of this fascinating man now is more complete. He must have been a difficult person but of course very original, eccentric and all around inspirational. From his austrian ancestry to his love to Japan, you get his vivid prose. He paints a rogue portrait of himself that must be taken with a grain of salt, because he kind of is an actor himself.
8/10
With some distance Jo's work is pretty impressive to this day especially how he was able to preserve his artistic thrumbprint all through his career. We also get to know his beginnings as an assistant who by accident got to direct his first feature film, which was independently produced (a complete novelty) which got him the attention of Chaplin. Sternberg also has travelled quite a bit and still chose to just minimally research his subject matter to create it all from imagination. And watching Shanghai Express, his detailed fantasies are proof of an educated, open mind.
His portraits of Marlene Dietrich (with whom he had a very complicated personal and artistic relationship oscillating between hate and devotion), and Emil Jannings also are highlights. He singles out how Dietrich always labeled him his creator in the most charming words only to spoil and provoke him and to make herself immune against all attacks.
My picture of this fascinating man now is more complete. He must have been a difficult person but of course very original, eccentric and all around inspirational. From his austrian ancestry to his love to Japan, you get his vivid prose. He paints a rogue portrait of himself that must be taken with a grain of salt, because he kind of is an actor himself.
8/10
Read
December 22, 2010I love biographies about movies and early Hollywood. This one is fun for awhile because Josef is a royal douchebag. He spends the whole time trying to unpretentiously take credit for every single aspect of everything he has ever been involved in. He loves insulting people and then trying to sound gracious about other people's defects. It's fun but after awhile it isn't.
April 12, 2023
"One who praises as great art only that which has become popular and about which there can no longer be any dispute is qualified to discuss art only with a child. [...T]his idea is most common, that it is the mission of art to appeal to the uninformed, and unless it does so it is not art. This claim can be made for a circus performance or for liverwurst, but not for anything so intricate as a work of art. [...] But the most pronounced flaw of all is the mistaken notion that the transference of beauty is the fixed goal of art, or that beauty is a concept common to all. Beauty and fashion are often the same. The brain does not have to be cudgeled to think of something that might be beautiful to one person while revolting another. 'All thoughts of a turtle are turtles, and of a rabbit, rabbits,' to quote Emerson."
I am woefully unversed in Von Sternberg's work, but I shall rectify that now I know he has the prerequisite quality of a great artist, namely an interesting mind.
I am woefully unversed in Von Sternberg's work, but I shall rectify that now I know he has the prerequisite quality of a great artist, namely an interesting mind.
May 18, 2022
This is memoir at its finest. In every line, the great director’s values and reason sparkle in clear expression. Acerbic, erudite, and witty, von Sternberg’s book is a pleasure to read for the humour alone. Yet in his reasoning tone, the assessments of the history of the cinematic arts and the absolute functions of the director within this make for an incredibly instructive read. One is challenged, livened, and enlightened by Fun in a Chinese Laundry.
May 13, 2023
Marlene Dietrich's director gives great insight into movies, actors, acting, directing, etc. He writes well so I didn't have to skip too much.
March 22, 2013
Josef von Sternberg was a filmmaking genius, an artist. His autobiography is an fascinating/entertaining glimpse into a man who was much misunderstood in his day - and since. Must see his films first - the pre-sound collection from Criterion, "Three Silent Classics," plus his icon-making work with Marlene Dietrich, "The Blue Angel," "Morocco," "Dishonored," "Shanghai Express," "Blonde Venus," "The Scarlet Empress" and - especially - "The Devil is a Woman" - also "The Shanghai Gesture" with Gene Tierney and Walter Huston.
July 24, 2012
I think you should read this, if you haven't already.
January 18, 2013
One of the worst books I ever read in my life.
Read
May 13, 2018Marlene Dietrich called him "the main I wanted to please most", and it is through their collaborations that Josef von Sternberg is most well-known today. Their films are undeniably impressive (The Scarlet Empress, 1934, is a personal favourite), but von Sternberg details his long and iconoclastic career in this volume, named after an early Edison film.
The chapters where von S. describes his attempts to tame Emil Jannings are hilarious, and worth the price of admission alone; witness descriptions like this:
Another highlight is von S.'s discussion of I, Claudius (1937), the aborted British production starring Charles Laughton and Merle Oberon.
On the negative side, the sections where von S. talks about his view of the role of the film director vis-à-vis that of the actor dragged for me. Von S. considered the film director the final (indeed, sole) creator of a film, the actors little better than automata: merely clay in the director-sculptor's hand. Certainly an interesting topic, but I could have done with fewer pages devoted to it.
Von Sternberg also takes the time to counter some of his critics, citing specific quotations along the way. In fact, rarely have I have read an autobiography with such footnotes (devoted not just to articles about von S himself, but also other things that he mentions). Von S is taking aim, certainly, but he also seems to rather enjoy quoting his detractors:
Really, who wouldn't relish having their work described in such a way? Von Sternberg clearly enjoyed being something of a provocateur. Describing his experience working with William Powell (in The Last Command, 1928), he writes,
Von Sternberg is a very sharp writer, and I'm surprised to see another reviewer call Fun in a Chinese Laundry humourless, because I thought there was actually quite a lot of humour in it, as shown in the quotations above. One could call von S. arrogant, but perhaps "sure of himself" is a better descriptor; at times, glimpses of self-deprecation show through. One thing is for certain: he had a clear vision that he always remained committed to.
The chapters where von S. describes his attempts to tame Emil Jannings are hilarious, and worth the price of admission alone; witness descriptions like this:
I was touched by this request from a proud and capable actor whom I had told in no uncertain terms that I considered him a horrible affliction and a hazard to any aesthetic purpose.
Another highlight is von S.'s discussion of I, Claudius (1937), the aborted British production starring Charles Laughton and Merle Oberon.
On the negative side, the sections where von S. talks about his view of the role of the film director vis-à-vis that of the actor dragged for me. Von S. considered the film director the final (indeed, sole) creator of a film, the actors little better than automata: merely clay in the director-sculptor's hand. Certainly an interesting topic, but I could have done with fewer pages devoted to it.
Von Sternberg also takes the time to counter some of his critics, citing specific quotations along the way. In fact, rarely have I have read an autobiography with such footnotes (devoted not just to articles about von S himself, but also other things that he mentions). Von S is taking aim, certainly, but he also seems to rather enjoy quoting his detractors:
In a recent book he [Lewis Jacobs] became even more discerning and scholarly. Discussing my work, he writes: "The whole thing reminded me of the galvanic twitching of a corpse."
Really, who wouldn't relish having their work described in such a way? Von Sternberg clearly enjoyed being something of a provocateur. Describing his experience working with William Powell (in The Last Command, 1928), he writes,
He [William Powell] acknowledged his debt to me by specifying in the new contract that was offered that he was never to be assigned to one of my films again, thus proving no exception to the long list of actors who had been outraged by my tuition.
Von Sternberg is a very sharp writer, and I'm surprised to see another reviewer call Fun in a Chinese Laundry humourless, because I thought there was actually quite a lot of humour in it, as shown in the quotations above. One could call von S. arrogant, but perhaps "sure of himself" is a better descriptor; at times, glimpses of self-deprecation show through. One thing is for certain: he had a clear vision that he always remained committed to.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews