For The Trunks' admirers, Granowsky's production was a breakthrough in an otherwise arid filmmaking environment; it was, Der Film commented, “a commentary on its time,” its strength being its reliance on symbols and images rather than on its realist qualities.21 Less politicized commentators refused to see anything more in this left-wing production than a good-natured comedy about small-town attitudes.
In February 1932, the film was cut by almost half and re-released in April with a new title, Building and Marrying (Bauen und Heiraten). According to the trade press, the filmmakers had heeded their critics and made substantial edits to tighten the structure and plot.22 In fact, the reasons were more sinister. When the film was re-released, it was without opening credits. The credits had listed several Jewish performers along with Erich Kästner's songs, all of which offended the censors. Also stripped was its portrayal of the decadence into which Ostend swiftly slipped. None of the sequences featuring Hedy was excised, which suggests the censors did not know she was Jewish.
Writers on Granowsky tend to dismiss his films, seeing them as little more than cash cows pulling down the end of an illustrious theater career, but The Trunks was a major release. When the film's message was not being debated, critical attention focused on its technical aspects and their contribution to the development of sound film. Its star to be watched was perceptively noted as Peter Lorre (Aribert Mog, later to star with Hedy in Ecstasy, also played a small role). Lorre's performance imbues the film with its sense of decadence; his insinuating, unctuous persona is compelling. What is perhaps most interesting for the purpose of this book, however, is the underlying assumption that Hedy Kiesler was a name familiar to audiences. Only Variety sounded a sour note: after commenting that Granowsky's film was “original in its idea and outstanding for photography” as well as “intentionally intellectual,” the reporter noted that “among the players is the young Viennese actress, Hedi [sic] Kiesler, introduced over here with much propaganda. She does not carry out the advance heralding.”23
Granowksy was inundated with offers of more film work after the release of The Trunks, but he had meanwhile married a wealthy German woman and moved to Paris to found his own company. “His first picture, Le Roi Pausolle[actually Les Aventures du Roi Pausole or The Adventures of King Pausole], a musical revue, was the most expensive picture made in Europe up to that time. And his private life was as sumptuous as his films. The waiters at exclusive Paris bars hadn't seen such tips since the legendary champagne bouts of the Russian grand dukes in Mont-martre.” But, “All the luxury and success did not make Granovsky happy or deaden his longing for Russia. He refused to admit it. The close air of the dictatorship made it impossible for him to work, he said, but in the free atmosphere of Paris and London he could not breathe.”24 His wife left him and he died in 1938, a poor man.
The Trunks opened belatedly in Vienna on 4 June 1932. The critics were delighted; several compared it favorably to We Don't Need Money or Fun and Finance (Man Braucht Kein Geld), Hedy's next film. Indeed, it seemed that appreciating Granowsky's film suggested that Viennese society possessed a more cultured outlook than Berlin: “We have heard that in Berlin it was pretty unanimously dismissed. But we savages are better people and for us Granowsky's grotesqueries were a delightful surprise.”25 Although Hedy remained mostly unheralded, one critic offered that Hedy Kiesler was supposed to look pretty and she did, and another mentioned her as part of the excellent cast.26
Hedy stayed in Berlin to work with producer Arnold Pressburger on his new film We Don't Need Money which was shot quickly in November 1931. A founder of Allianz-Tonfilm, Pressburger hired Carol Boese to direct his latest project. Boese had none of Granovsky's political credentials; the high point of his career was his codirection (with Paul Wegener) of the expressionist classic Der Golem (1920). Otherwise, Boese is best remembered for his routine comedies. Adapted from a play of the same name by Ferdinand Alternkirch, We Don't Need Monejrevisited the themes of wealth accumulation and distribution familiar to audiences of The Trunks. The story centers on the activities of a shopkeeper named Brandt in the small town of Groditzkirchen. When some speculative investments in oil drilling go wrong, he and the local bank official, Schmidt (Heinz Rühmann), devise a plan to save face. Brandt announces that his millionaire uncle from Chicago, Thomas Hoffman (Hans Moser), is due to arrive shortly. But when Hoffman arrives with seven huge suitcases, he has just one $10 gold piece in his pocket. “No one must find out,” Schmidt insists. Schmidt ensures that Hoffman stays at the best hotel in town, but there he keeps the unfortunate visitor a virtual prisoner. With the myth of investment now personified, the bank official and the shopkeeper can obtain limitless credit and the two exploit this nonexistent capital until Brandt becomes wealthy and Groditzkirchen becomes an industrial city of extraordinary influence. The swindle also enables Schmidt to court Brandt's beautiful daughter Kathe, played by Hedy.
In We Don't Need Money, Hedy is again presented as a sweet young woman, without the slightest hint of the glamorous beauty she would project in her Hollywood years. The script required her to perform with an ensemble, which she did with reasonable competence, although she expressed herself mostly by rolling her eyes. Her vocal delivery, however, was hampered by a tendency to become shrill in long, heated speeches. Even in this early part, her character is no pushover and when Schmidt kisses her, she slaps him across the face. As was true throughout her career, the young Hedy Kiesler appears happiest when her character has ticked off a would-be lover and put him firmly in his place. She is also considerably taller than Rühmann, which only adds to the comic effect. In one scene, she appears rather startlingly in a bathing suit turning somersaults in her bedroom, an activity that emphasized her almost androgynous figure.
The film was an enormous success, which was attributed to the strong original script written by Karl Noti and Hans Wilhelm and led to its comparison with The Trunks; both films, it was said, were not just genre films but also expressed strong personal visions. We Don't Need Money, however, was credited as “livelier, funnier and less complicated” than Granowsky's production.27 The film managed, a Lichtbildbühne critic suggested, to stay topical without reminding audiences of the miseries of life. Not normally noted for his light touch, director Carl Boese had acquitted himself well.
Hedy Kiesler, the Lichtbildbühne critic added, looked good enough to eat (“zum Anbeißen hübsch”) and showed talent.28 This focus on the rising talent's looks over her acting skills foretold reviews to come. German Variety was in agreement: Hedy Kiesler was “enviably young and slim.”29 The Kinematograph critic was more circumspect: “Hedy Kiesler really has nothing to do other than show off a couple of pretty costumes. She will have to content herself with being part of the general praise for the film.”30 Der Film was even less encouraging, noting that Hedy's acting had “no dramatic appeal.”31 Thunderous applause greeted the final credits at the premiere in Berlin's Capitol cinema on 5 February 1932, and the film enjoyed a long run in both Vienna and Berlin. It also opened in the Hindenberg Theatre in New York in November 1932, where it played in a German version. The New York Times was as enthusiastic as the German press had been and welcomed the performance of the young Hedy Kiesler, “a charming Austrian girl.”32
In Vienna, the film premiered on 22 December 1931, in time for the holiday season. On opening night, the audience laughed long and loud and the closing titles were met by rounds of applause. Here was a film, most reviewers agreed, that treated the current economic crisis with wit and intelligence. The appearance of Hedy Kiesler, now inevitably referred to as Max Reinhardt's protégée, had been widely anticipated in advance. She looked charming, the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung noted, “but her acting is a little self-conscious.”33 Meanwhile, Viennese authorities realized that posters adorning the city walls declared, “We don't need money.” In a moment of humorlessness, they ordered them to be removed.
In Berlin, Hedy stayed with Joe and Mia May, whose lives were to become peculiarly entwined with hers. Joe May was born Julius Otto Mandl in Vienna in 1880, which made him a cousin of the equally wealthy Fritz Mandl, Hedy's future husband. Unlike Fritz, however, Julius frittered away his share of