People on Sunday « Pistols@Noonish

People on Sunday
Reviewed by J. Lunden on June 29, 2011

People on Sunday, a 1930 silent film, has a peculiar history. What we know is that the film was an early independent collaborative between a group of young German and Austrian filmmakers, many of whom would eventually move on to legendary careers. This included master noir directors Robert Siodmak (The Killers) and Edgar G. Ulmer (Detour), as well as the great Billy Wilder (Sabrina, Some like it Hot, Ace in the Hole, Sunset Blvd., etc.). However, the chronicling of this collaboration is somewhat suspect because even with the historical records and interviews available, it’s still unclear who among these filmmakers actually directed, wrote and produced the film. This is due to the fact that most if not all of the persons involved (including a host of other filmmakers I’ve not listed here) have given different accounts of the production, sometimes even denying the participation of one another. While these questions offer an intriguing—though likely unsolvable—historical puzzle, I won’t launch an investigation here. Instead, let us simply appreciate the result of the work. And for the purpose of this review, I’ll simply repeat the most common assumption that the film was co-directed by Siodmak and Ulmer and written by Wilder. I look forward to your emails.

People on Sunday takes place in pre-Depression Berlin and offers a vibrant portrait of the city that may be unfamiliar to those who’ve only experienced postwar German cinema. The filmmakers accomplish this through the use of documentary footage that is used to frame the whimsical fiction that runs through the film’s center. The footage of the unique people and places of Berlin offers a delightful (and, at times, melancholy) base for a concocted Sunday afternoon romp.

The story focuses on the lives of five urbanites: a taxi driver and his lethargic wife, a playboy, a record shop girl, and an aspiring actress. While the taxi driver’s wife spends the majority of the film dreaming in her bed, the other characters converge upon Nikolassee Beach for a Sunday afternoon of cheeky flirtations and jealousies. But as this is an avant-garde work, the opening title card informs that the “actors” in the film had never appeared in front of a camera before and that they have all since returned to their day jobs. Regardless, they play themselves well.

We may never know the real history of People on Sunday and, sadly, we are left with a compromised version of the film. The original negatives were lost and the version we have today was cobbled together from various found sources. Still, I am grateful for the surviving elements, and appreciate the tireless conservationists who’ve rescued what pieces they could. Even in its truncated form, People on Sunday remains a wonderful film about a city full of people who are, as Loverboy so eloquently put it, workin’ for the weekend.

People on Sunday comes to Blu-ray in its original standard aspect ratio of 1.33:1. The transfer utilizes the AVC codec, takes up 23GB of space on the disc, and has a video bitrate of 34.95Mbps.

As I mentioned in the review, the film’s original negative was lost and the version we have today was pieced together from various sources. Normally when this happens, the fluctuation in quality can be quite distracting. However, the EYE Film Institute’s restored negative looks rather amazing here. There are scratches and the film is peppered with debris and other spots of damage, but these hindrances are almost never distracting and I would guess that this is the best the film is ever going to look. The black and white images look splendidly detailed, with rich grain and solid contrast. It is a very attractive presentation.

I should note that the transfer is actually 1080i, but I honestly didn’t notice any distracting combing or judder. I’m unsure why the transfer is interlaced, but I don’t count it as a serious issue.

People on Sunday is presented here with two 24-bit uncompressed stereo tracks. (The Mont Alto track is 2304Kbps. The Kats-Chernin track is at 2304Kbps.)

Two scores have been provided for the film. The first, by The Mont Alto Orchestra, was recorded exclusively for Criterion in 2011. The second score was composed by Elena Kats-Chernin and was conducted by Frank Strobel, with the Czech Film Orchestra. Both scores sound excellent via their respective uncompressed 2-channel presentations. Personally, I prefer The Mont Alto Orchestra score.

The German intertitles are accompanied by English subtitles in glorious white.