We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
HUNTED PEOPLE (LE LOUP GAROU)
Direction: Friedrich Feher. Camera: Ewald Daub. Scenario: Feher and Fraenkel. Art Direction: E. Scharf. With Eugene Klopfer, Hans Feher, Vladimir Sokolov, Magda Sonja, Camilla Spira, Friederich Ettel, Emilia Unda.
Little seems to be known of how this picture came to be made, when or where it was produced, or even who sponsored it. It opens with a fancy impression of Marseilles — the docks, the narrow streets, the steel bridge, the ministry of justice — and then by means of a viaduct along the coast takes us to the little village of Longville. Here a stout, middle-aged and prosperous joiner has just been married for the second time. He has risen in the world and has secured for his new wife the pretty daughter of the mayor. But while the nuptial festivities are at their height the local gendarmerie has identified the husband in a photograph of the bridal pair published in the Press as none other than an escaped convict. According to the law of France, the husband cannot be reimprisoned if he has eluded capture for ten years. Needless to say, the ten years are up all save for two days.
A gendarme presents himself at the house. Immediately the jolly joiner knows the game is up, but he decides to make a run for it. Accompanied by hib small son, Boubou, he contrives to get away from the guarded house by hiding in a coffin (a good piece of cinema, this) while his wife and guests are making merry. He gets an illicit lift on a train, escapes in a tunnel and wanders about the streets of Marseilles. At every corner he hears a broadcast description of himself and his son. He secures a change of clothes for them both from a pawnbroker (admirably played by our old friend Vladimir Sokolov), sleeps with the down-and-outs in the docks, is disturbed by the fort sentries, makes a dash for the fair-ground, where the legless lady in a freak show turns out to be the sister of the woman he is supposed to have murdered and who really committed the crime herself.
In all this you will see ordinary melodrama without any distinction. But there are three things which lift the film above the conventional: the treatment, the acting, and the music.
In these days of "come up and see me" entertainment it is seldom we come across a film which is built up on an analysis of a single mood. For that we must go right back to the tradition of the early Germans — to The Street, New Year's Eve, The Cab and Phantom. The events in Feher's film are immaterial. There is one situation at the beginning; the rest is logical conclusion. The fast-moving sequences are simply a framework on which to hang a study of fear.
122