★★★
“The original Barbie”
The subtitle is not a joke. Lilli began her life as a comic – just a single drawing, with a line of her saying something funny – in the German newspaper Bild. Drawn by German artist Reinhard Beuthien, it ran from 1952-1961. With her child-like face, perfect slim figure, and long blond hair that she carried as a ponytail, Lilli was an attractive young woman. Also, she was saucy, sexy, independent and single: not at all as you would imagine young women to be in 1950’s Germany. It’s unsurprising that “Bild-Lilli” had her fans, and that dolls in her image would be produced from 1955 on. Though these were originally meant not as toys, but for marketing purposes.
When Mattel co-founder Ruth Handler went to Germany on holiday in 1956, she discovered the dolls and wanted to bring them to the American market. She had her designers create a new doll based on Lilli, and released her under the name “Barbie” in 1959. It seems Handler was afraid of copyright claims by the original producers. For Wikipedia tells us: “Mattel acquired the rights to Lilli in 1964, and all the promotional and merchandising activities related to the character were discontinued after then.” So, yes: while Mattel changed details here and there, Barbie was originally indeed a German girl named Lilli. Though looking at the All-American girl Barbie embodies today (also her animated movies, as well as the recent live-action one), it’s hard to recognize Lilli in Barbie nowadays.
However, long before the sale of rights, in 1958, Lilli had her own live-action movie. [I wonder if Mattel buying Lilli is why I haven’t seen this movie on TV for 30 years or more. It has never been released on videotape, DVD or Blu-ray.] This starred Danish actress Ann Smyrner, who won the role in a contest. Smyrner spoke only a little German, so was dubbed by German voice actress Margot Leonard. She would go on to fame for also dubbing Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot, Honor Blackman and Diana Rigg – basically, everyone young, female and sexy in 1950s and 60s cinema. I mention her especially, because I think that without her voice, Lilli might not have worked so well as a film character.
In this story, Lilli works as a reporter for a newspaper. Her introduction is already notable, driving an elegant sports car at high speed into a parked vehicle. When a policeman tries to fine her, she flatters and confuses him, kisses him on the cheek and leaves. In the newspaper office, she resists the flirtation of her boss with a move – is it early martial arts? – that leaves him on the ground. Really, we had not seen a female character like that in a German movie. It might have been slightly different in America, with some female characters in westerns and swashbucklers, but here, this was new. Although things were about to change, as I remember Lieselotte Pulver, whose Spessart Inn series of films began the same year.
Lilli is sent to report on a missionary congress in Sicily, getting there by ship. Honestly, I sincerely doubt this movie was filmed there, because we hardly see any Italian landscapes here. You see signs in Italian painted on walls indicating this is a hotel, a restaurant and so on. It’s meant to convince you that you are there because… well… it’s written in Italian language, so it must be Italy, right? Most of the scenes are inside on sets, and all of these might well have been in a German film studio. Also, some characters speak German with a fake Italian accent. It might have been convincing for a German audience in the 50s, but these feel kind of hilarious nowadays. (Although we still get German actors playing Italian characters, at least they leave out the fake accents now!) The opening credits say “Produced in the Arca studios, Berlin”, a facility which also produced a movie set partly in Africa!
But let’s be fair. For a 50s movie, Lilli’s adventure is quite exciting. She meets an old man (Siegfried Schürenberg) onboard the ship, who asks her for a favor and soon turns up dead in his cabin. She finds money printing plates in her room. Her investigations in Sicily lead her to a car garage where a traitor from a gang (Friedrich Joloff) is killed. As one of the murderers tries to abuse Lilli, he accidentally tears off her dress, leading to Lilli running away in her lingerie, causing a commotion in the streets until friendly sailors bring her back to the hotel.
Another body appears, this time in her hotel room, and she gets friendly with potential love interest Mr. Morton (Hoven). He turns out to be up to no good, offering the gangsters a hand in getting the printing plates – most of these gangsters (including the gangster lady, below) are obviously not smart enough to deal with Lilli. When her little Italian friend is kidnapped, the big bad turns out to be the priest who accompanied her already on the ship (Peters). Lilli escapes, and has her sailor friends beat up the criminals in their own pub. The movie ends with the gangsters arrested, and Morton turns out to be Lieutenant Collins of Interpol, working undercover to help capture the villain. As Lilli already had Collins tied to a chair, she leaves her love interest struggling to free himself – a bit of revenge on her part.
Thinking about it, Lilli seems to spend most of the movie’s runtime escaping from some dangerous place or situation. She shoots with a gun at a vase, and engages in a – for the 50s – acceptable car chase. She even drives backwards, and fakes her own death by tossing the car down a slope, Dr. No style. Though probably not acceptable for today anymore, she does it all in high-heels. But that trope is ironically subverted, when after that big chase, one of her high-heels breaks. This seems to be a bigger nuisance for her than the chase! But I have to say: for a German production, in a time when there were virtually no local crime films and no one would have understood the meaning of an “acti